Margarita, rocks, salt
I don't want it to sound like all we girls do is drink...we don't. We do other things, really. Like um, well, there's ah, let's see, um... Hmm, maybe we don't do more than drink. LOL Anyway, last night we were out at a great neighborhood Mexican restaurant who just happens to have a great margarita special on Monday nights. So, yeah, last night we drank. And drank. And then drank some more. My head is not liking me very much this morning, and I'm sure theirs don't either. I blame it on the fact that we didn't eat dinner, whereas my friends are blaming me, since I was the one that kept ordering the damn drinks. Well, that and the impromptu gathering was my idea in the first place.
We discovered that we all have weird phobias. Chris is freaked out by cicadas and once threw me out of her house because one had landed on my T-shirt. Then, there's her condiment phobia. She cannot stand any type of condiment. The thought of mayonnaise, mustard or salad dressing makes her stomach churn. I'm sure she's having a hard time simply reading that previous sentence (sorry, honey!). Heather is afraid of Velveeta cheese touching her lips. I swear, I'm not making this up. She hates the feel of Velveeta cheese and I think the worst thing that could happen to her would be to be thrown into a vat of the stuff. Both of them hate the feel of things on their forearms, which really makes me wonder about them. I don't want it to seem that I'm picking on them, so here are two of my own. I am terrified of grates in the sidewalk. Bizzare, I know, but it's true. Don't know if there was some strange grate incident in a previous life, but I will cross the street to avoid walking over one. And the sound of nail clippers makes me want to put a sharp object through my eardrums. I was watching a movie the other night and one of the characters was clipping their fingernails and I had to eject the DVD because it disturbed me so much.
Anyway, enough about our silly phobias. Let's talk about the cute boy sitting at the next table. We've seen him there before, and there has been minor flirting in the past. We checked each other out, flirted and smiled all night long. His name is Jeff and, if the opportunity arrives, he could be a nice diversion. (It's funny how I lament about not getting any when it is a self-imposed dry spell. It's not that I don't want to have sex, I'd just rather not have one night stands. I went through that phase years ago and am not too particularly interested in going back. Not that I wouldn't, mind you, I'd just rather not.) Back to Jeff: he's not overly tall, but he's fairly thin and wears glasses...yummy. I love me a boy in glasses. Nothing happened last night, but I know where to find him, so no biggie.
Yowza, I'm off to find some Tylenol and the biggest bottle of water I can lug back to my desk. I can already tell that I'll be hiding in my office over lunch taking a quick nap.
We discovered that we all have weird phobias. Chris is freaked out by cicadas and once threw me out of her house because one had landed on my T-shirt. Then, there's her condiment phobia. She cannot stand any type of condiment. The thought of mayonnaise, mustard or salad dressing makes her stomach churn. I'm sure she's having a hard time simply reading that previous sentence (sorry, honey!). Heather is afraid of Velveeta cheese touching her lips. I swear, I'm not making this up. She hates the feel of Velveeta cheese and I think the worst thing that could happen to her would be to be thrown into a vat of the stuff. Both of them hate the feel of things on their forearms, which really makes me wonder about them. I don't want it to seem that I'm picking on them, so here are two of my own. I am terrified of grates in the sidewalk. Bizzare, I know, but it's true. Don't know if there was some strange grate incident in a previous life, but I will cross the street to avoid walking over one. And the sound of nail clippers makes me want to put a sharp object through my eardrums. I was watching a movie the other night and one of the characters was clipping their fingernails and I had to eject the DVD because it disturbed me so much.
Anyway, enough about our silly phobias. Let's talk about the cute boy sitting at the next table. We've seen him there before, and there has been minor flirting in the past. We checked each other out, flirted and smiled all night long. His name is Jeff and, if the opportunity arrives, he could be a nice diversion. (It's funny how I lament about not getting any when it is a self-imposed dry spell. It's not that I don't want to have sex, I'd just rather not have one night stands. I went through that phase years ago and am not too particularly interested in going back. Not that I wouldn't, mind you, I'd just rather not.) Back to Jeff: he's not overly tall, but he's fairly thin and wears glasses...yummy. I love me a boy in glasses. Nothing happened last night, but I know where to find him, so no biggie.
Yowza, I'm off to find some Tylenol and the biggest bottle of water I can lug back to my desk. I can already tell that I'll be hiding in my office over lunch taking a quick nap.
posted by kcterrilynn at 8:41 AM
6 Comments:
LMAO. Are you still drunk? LOL. This post is too funny. I too loathe mayonnaise and am scared of those damn grates. I never walk on them for fear of falling through or being electricuted. LOL.
I'm laughing so hard over here! Great post....and of course you know I condone margarita drinking any time. Mmmm...
I *hate* the sound of styrofoam squeaking or rubbing against another piece of styrofoam (like those old-school sytrofoam coolers). It makes me cringe!
Also that guys sounds cute. ;) I'm interested to find out of you hook up any time soon, girl.
Emeril had tequilla night the other night and here's the reference:
http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/show_em/episode/0,1976,FOOD_9959_38992,00.html
This one is called Red Passion, if you'd care to try it.
1/2 cup strawberries, hulled and quartered
2 tablespoons Cilantro Syrup, recipe follows
2 teaspoons rose water
1 1/2 teaspoons grenadine
Ice
1/2 cup pink grapefruit juice
2 tablespoons lime juice
1 ounce triple sec
2 ounces silver tequila
Fresh cilantro sprig, for garnish
In a blender, combine the strawberries, Cilantro Syrup, rose water, and grenadine and process until well blended and smooth, 15 to 20 seconds. Pour the strawberry puree into a large martini glass.
Put 3/4 cup ice into a cocktail shaker and add the grapefruit juice, lime juice, Triple Sec, and tequila. Shake well for 10 seconds to chill the ingredients. Strain into the martini glass over the strawberry puree. Garnish with cilantro sprig.
Cilantro Syrup:
1 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro leaves
In a 1-quart saucepan, combine the sugar and water and heat, stirring occasionally, until the sugar has dissolved. Once the sugar has dissolved and the syrup is hot, remove from the heat and add the chopped cilantro to the pan. Allow the syrup to cool for 15 minutes, then strain the syrup through a fine-mesh sieve. Discard the solids. The syrup may be made up to 2 weeks in advance and refrigerated in an airtight container until ready to use.
I cook way to much to be afraid of any food or kitchen implement. I am still afraid of snakes.
Why not just go up and ask the guy to lunch. Say,"I want to find out if you're as fascinating as I think you are. Can we go to lunch and talk?"
Maybe it leads to more than a one night stand? It's work on me, after I picked myself up off the floor.
Mmmmm, that sounds good, monty. I've printed it and am now eagerly waiting for a chance to bust it out.
Believe me, I am no stranger to asking out guys. (Maybe I should post some of my techniques for that. I've only been turned down once, and that was because he was engaged.) I'm not sure what's holding me back regarding this one. I'll give it a try when we see each other again...I'll let you know how it turns out.
I'll be rooting for you, go get him!
And, as for Emeril, if you use that URL, he also has a "mellow melon' drink that will knock various parts of clothing right into the hamper! Yes, indeed!
On the show, he was using Cabo Wabo tequilla, liberally! My kind of cook!
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