Lunatics Hanging Out of Trucks (Or How to Make an Orange Julius)

Remember on Friday when I said I thought I was coming down with a cold?

Yeah, well, I was kind of right.

I am sick, but it’s more of a nuclear germ assault affecting everything above my neck than your average garden variety cold. I’m actually going to the doctor today because I can hardly swallow, it hurts to speak above a whisper, and each day it gets worse instead of better.

When I woke up this morning I wanted to tear out my own tonsils with a kitchen knife but decided to make myself an orange julius instead. I didn’t have any concentrated orange juice in the house, so I had to walk up to the market on the corner to get some.

I threw on some fleecy pants that add at least five pounds to my legs, a huge cashmere granny sweater that gives me an ass for days, and I twisted my un-brushed hair into a makeshift bun. I was wearing my glasses and my chucks, and I generally looked (and felt) like all-around hammered shit.

As I was walking home, frozen OJ in hand, I heard incessant whistling over my shoulder. I looked over to see some lunatic hanging out of the side of a pick up truck waving at me. When things like this happen I often wonder why I ever bother to brush my hair or apply make up because I swear weirdos will nearly fall out of moving vehicles gawking at you no matter how heinous you look.

I’m sure there’s some lesson in there somewhere only I’m too tired to figure out what it is right now….

I was on the fence about whether it was culinarily responsible to post my orange julius recipe when I couldn’t actually taste the one I made this morning but decided to do it anyway because I’ve been drinking them since I was a kid and they always tasted OK before.

I’m sure this one was great too.

At least it looked like it tasted good.

At least it looked like it tasted good.

Orange Julius

4 oz Orange Juice Concentrate
1 C Whole Milk
8 Ice Cubes, Crushed
2 T Honey, Melted
1/2 tsp Vanilla Extract
1 C Water, optional*

Put all of the ingredients into the blender. Blend and enjoy.

And before I head to the doctor, here’s a cheerful break up song to add a little skip to your step. I can’t get enough of it even though I haven’t really broken up with anyone since February, and that was only sort of break up adjacent because we didn’t go out that many times.

Whatever.

The beat is awesome, and Kygo is everything.

* I like mine to have more of a kick so I skip the water, but you do you. 

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Michigan Men and Wolverine Women (Or How to Make Peet’s Maple Latte)

OK, this post has to be kinda quick because I have A LOT to do today. I’m on page 50 of my script rewrite, and I need to finish revising it this weekend. I also have a whole bunch of Grey’s Anatomy episodes to study for story structure, and I really need a massage because my body is a mess.

Oh, and I think I’m coming down with a cold.

In the spring. When it’s like 95 outside.

Whatever.

SO…

I usually limit my caffeine intake to one latte at dawn, but today I’m really dragging so I decided I needed a little more espresso in my life. Peet’s Coffee is by far my favorite in LA, and they have this totally amazing maple latte that I sometimes sip for a special treat. It’s actually made with real maple syrup (I asked), so it’s not as crazy on the glycemic scale as a Torani syrup. (This makes me happy.)

Plus, I’m half Canadian and everyone knows Canadians are genetically obligated to like maple syrup so there’s also that.

I didn’t want to schlep all of the way to Peet’s and shell out $4.75 for maple goodness when time and money were precious today, so made a maple latte at home.

See?

Here it is in my Michigan mug.

Here is my happy maple latte in my happy Michigan mug.

I made that vase for a Michigan Alumni Club event I threw last year, and the club gave me this mug as a thank you for my efforts. (Cute, right?)

Here’s another look at the latte up close — in case you don’t know what coffee looks like.

I love Michigan. And espresso.

I love Michigan. And espresso.

I know you’re probably all like, “Of course you love your alma mater. Whatever,” but I need to be honest with you.

I didn’t want to go to Michigan.

I was super, super angry my parents made me go to a state school for budget reasons, and I was very ungrateful for the opportunity to study at a top-rated university because I thought it was beneath me — and because I didn’t want to be surrounded by people from my high school who had lower test scores and lower GPAs than I had.

I also wanted to run away from my past and everyone from my high school who knew about it — only they were everywhere on campus. There were 324 of us in my graduating class, and 75 of us went to Michigan. At least 15 were in my dorm, and seeing them was hard for me at times.

In retrospect, they weren’t the problem.

My anger was.

I eventually made peace with Michigan, and now I’m also making peace with my past. Writing has played a huge part in my healing, and I’m so grateful God gave me the ability to express myself in this way.

I’m grateful I had to sit in my discomfort for four years in Ann Arbor because it made me stronger. And now I’m grateful for the opportunity to give voice to my story.

This quote I found in the Michigan Alumni magazine sums up how I feel about Michigan, and it means so much to me that a Michigan football player said it since writing a football script has helped me heal.

And that quote is held up by a magnet given to me by one of my oldest and dearest friends from high school who knows my past.

It’s held up by a magnet given to me by Kristy one of my oldest and dearest friends from high school who knows everything about my past.

I may not be a Michigan Man like that guy, but I am a Wolverine Woman, and not a very well-behaved one at that.

I never have been…

These magnets were given to me by Nicole and Sarah, two other warrior women who just happen to be Wolverines like me.

This photo of mouthy little me is held up with magnets given to me by Nicole and Sarah, two other Wolverine Women.

And by the way, I will never be well-behaved because I’m fighting for myself and for what matters to me.

So bring it on, world….

God, my maple latte, and I have got this!

Oh, and if you want to make your own maple latte to face whatever battle you’re facing, here’s how I did it:

Maple Latte

2 Espresso Shots
1 T Maple Syrup, Grade B
2/3 C Whole Milk, Steamed

Add maple syrup to espresso. Pour in steamed milk and enjoy!

Hail.

Mint Chocolate for My Mouth (Or Mint Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Balls)

Remember how I was all into the Cookie Dough Protein Balls from PaleOMG a few weeks ago? (If not, you can find the Balls for Breakfast post here.)

Well, I am still into them. WAY into them. Only, I was eating a handful one day and thought, “What if I put MINT in here?”

If you’re thinking, “Mint with almonds? Have you taken leave of your senses, woman?” I understand.

But go with me for a moment here because it’ll be worth it.

I promise.

Spence the Spinosauraus Can't STOP with these things.

Even Trudy the Triceratops can’t STOP with these things.

If you think Trudy and I are on to something with the mint in our mouths, here’s the recipe.

Mint Chocolate Cookie Dough Protein Balls

1/2 C Trader Joe’s Vanilla Hemp Protein*
2 T Coconut Flour
1 T Coconut Sugar
pinch of salt
1 T Almond Butter
2 T Almond Milk
1 1/2 T Coconut Oil, melted
1/2 tsp Pure Mint Extract
2 T Miniature Chocolate Chips, Semi-Sweet

Mix the first four ingredients together in a small bowl. Mix the almond butter, almond milk, coconut oil, and mint extract together in another bowl and stir to create uniform consistency. Add the dry ingredients to the wet and mix to blend. Fold in the chocolate chips.

Roll into balls and allow them to firm up in the refrigerator.

Try not to eat them before they set up….

Oh, and the other thing I’m into right now?

Is this song by Thomas Jack.

Please don’t get all uppity about the Chaplin film that contains this speech and give me a lecture on sensitivity. I just like the words in the context of the song.

*Trader Joe’s also makes a chocolate hemp protein. That would probably be good as well.