tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21444329222825672772023-11-16T05:54:13.467-05:00Eve vs. WilmsChristy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.comBlogger312125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-31928277808766389062018-09-29T21:56:00.001-04:002018-09-29T21:56:44.320-04:00$13,285,266It's been a couple of years since I've written. For those of you newly diagnosed or in treatment, my silence is a good thing. We're very busy doing normal things, not going to clinic. Visits to Duke are now only once a year, where labs are drawn and hearts are monitored. There are annoying side-effects from treatment that have popped up but nothing we can't handle at the moment. <br />
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Although we volunteered, this is the first year I have not done an Ultimate Hike as a participant. Weekends are filled with basketball, volleyball, track, Boy Scouts, dance, and general merriment. No time to train. I'm very happy that my last hike on the Foothills Trail in 2017 was with Matt, Daniel, and Natalie in Eve's honor for the whole 30 miles. It was a good note to end on. <br />
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Matt and I have been quite busy working on a project. There is a historic home in downtown Holly Springs, NC that we are turning into a restaurant. <a href="https://www.facebook.com/PimientoTeaRoom/" target="_blank">Pimiento Tea Room</a> is our current labor of love, and no matter how hard an undertaking it may be, it pales in comparison to dealing with childhood cancer. While this will cut into my normal fundraising time, it is with great excitement that once we are open, a regular portion of our proceeds will be designated for pediatric cancer research. And since I'm never shy about begging for money, if you know anyone who wants to join our investment team, you know where to find me!<br />
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Since I can't possibly NOT fund raise, even though I don't have the time to do something extreme that requires months of training, I found something extreme that doesn't require any training. On October 13, 2018 at 9:40 a.m., I'll be rappelling down the side of the 21c Hotel in Durham. It's called "Over the Edge" and all funds raised are benefiting Duke Children's Hospital. I've never rappelled, but I'm good at falling down things. Somewhere, there is a video of me tumbling down Monument Valley on a trip to Arizona as a child while there is no video of my parents trying to rescue me. I signed up for the second slot after the first rope check; I figured I would let someone double check the rope check for me. Want to donate? <a href="http://dccc.convio.net/goto/Christy" target="_blank">You can right here</a>! <br />
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Although it's the end of Childhood Cancer Awareness Month for a lot of you, a lot of us are all-too-aware the rest of the year as well. If people can get excited enough to give $13,285,266 to <a href="https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/ryangrepper/coolest-cooler-21st-century-cooler-thats-actually?ref=discovery" target="_blank">fund a cooler</a> on Kickstarter, surely we convince them that funding research to save an average of 71 years of life is just as exciting.<br />
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Imagine how many Victory Tacos could be eaten in those decades.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-43490546218148937772016-08-08T10:30:00.000-04:002016-08-08T10:30:29.035-04:00The Most Extreme Ultimate Ultimateness Pt. 3<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The <a href="http://evegriffith.blogspot.com/2011/10/most-extreme-ultimate-ultimateness.html" target="_blank">first time</a> I did the Foothills Ultimate Hike, I pretty much decided I was never going to do it again. Then that childbirth thing happens where you know there must have been pain but not enough to cover up all the good stuff that came out so you decide to sign up for it and have another baby.</div>
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The <a href="http://evegriffith.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-most-extreme-ultimate-ultimateness.html" target="_blank">second time</a> I did the Foothills Ultimate Hike, I pretty much decided I was never going to do it again; I remembered the childbirth a bit more vividly that time around. I came back to volunteer and participated as a hiker at Dolly Sods instead. Things were going according to plan.</div>
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But then my cousin came for Thanksgiving and he finally drank the Kool-Aid (it was flavored like beer). If someone says they'll hike, YOU SIGN UP TO HIKE, TOO. Even if it's the Foothills Trail and you were not planning on having another baby.</div>
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Eve is cured, yes. That is something to celebrate. But you'd feel like a total jerkface if you didn't continue to raise money and awareness so that other kids can be cured and celebrate, too. And a lot of kids ARE cured and it's wonderful! But a lot of kids who are cured have some pretty nasty late-effects that last a lifetime. Eve's late-effects so far have been mild in comparison to the many kids we've met along the way, but it doesn't change the fact that they are still there. On the drive down to Georgia, I put a reminder in my calendar to schedule an appointment with the dermatologist to remove a spot on Eve's back where she had radiation. <i>If she were my daughter, I'd definitely remove that, </i>he said. As I was literally clicking "save," a phone call came in. It was Eve's psychologist from Duke who has been following her post-treatment. Thirty minutes later, I was off the phone and had the number of another doctor I needed to call to schedule an appointment so Eve can start a trial of drugs to see if some of this chemo brain can be helped. It was a very well-timed reminder that we need to keep hiking so these kids don't get these shit treatments anymore. They are all shit. They are all outdated, dusty pieces of shit that work on some and not on others and all carry the potential to leave you with more shit than you started with.</div>
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So that was my motivation. No more shit for anyone. And a personal goal not to <i>actually shit </i>on the trail.</div>
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Friday night was the earliest I had ever gone to bed before an Ultimate Hike. I think I was asleep by 9:15, but not until <a href="https://www.facebook.com/christina.s.griffith/videos/10208131966191380/?l=7629603104340219677" target="_blank">I got all of my nerves out</a>. I had so much to be nervous about: my crappy knees, my period (day two, y'all), the fact that I signed my fourth grader up for a 30-mile hike. </div>
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Now Daniel, he was not nervous about anything. He was just popping M&Ms into his pie-hole, hand over fist like they were vitamins. A mom I met in Indiana at a hike had lost her son Ryan a few years ago and he was Daniel's age. She had a package waiting for him at the hotel filled with Ryan's favorite things, fun facts about Ryan, and special treats for Daniel to devour on the trail. She said it was the first time she had been shopping for a ten-year-old boy since Ryan died. Can you imagine what that must have felt like for her? I know most of you cannot imagine this and I'm happy for you! But I think you should take a moment to reflect upon the fact that more kids die from childhood cancer than any other pediatric disease <b>combined</b>. There's a saying, <i>The day before my child was diagnosed, I wasn't a cancer parent, either. </i>(Misery usually loves company but none of us want you in our clique, sorry. We just want your money. Research ain't cheap.)</div>
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You can see us on the trail head in an <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Ultimatehike/videos/998482990201584/" target="_blank">Ultimate Hike Live video</a>. Fun facts: Daniel was young enough that when his sister was on treatment, all he remembered was being able to drink unlimited juice and Matt B. forgot his boots and did the trail in the hike manager's much smaller shoes. THIRTY MILES IN SOMEONE ELSE'S [smaller] SHOES. That's how much Ultimate Hikers hate cancer.</div>
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Me, my cousin Matt, and Daniel, all very excited to be up so early.</div>
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Daniel's reasons for hiking.</div>
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So very dark because THE SUN WON'T COME UP FOR HOURS. Lazy, good-for-nothing sun.</div>
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You see that red light? That's Melanie and I bet you still weren't awake yet. You and the sun and your sleeping in.</div>
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These are my feet. I haven't worn my hiking shoes in a while. You can hike in whatever makes you feel good, as long as that include pants. I've seen enough weird things on the trail for you to sneak up on me not wearing pants again.</div>
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OMG I HAVEN'T HURT MYSELF YET! IT'S A MIRACLE! A MIRACLE OF THE VERY SHORT-LIVED VARIETY!</div>
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Taken on a pee break.</div>
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More pretty things to look at while peeing and not trying to fall down that hill.</div>
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Melanie is hiking to work out some nervous energy on account of upcoming scans for her daughter. The most she hiked before the Foothills trail was 16 miles so she had another 14 miles of bonus energy to burn!</div>
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Here we are with Bill, who also had knee problems so he was basically the person I cussed to very loudly in my head whenever we went downhill. I think I heard him cuss back. Damn knees.</div>
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Melanie introduced me to <i>30 Seconds of Gratitude, </i>where you make a short video that you can calm down or meditate to. Mine never lasted more than 15 seconds and got progressively shorter because I had to pee a lot, but I can look at this picture for 30 seconds and hear the water rushing. It's relaxing, although just the memory of the rushing water kind of makes me have to pee.</div>
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If you can imagine the most perfect weather for a hike, then you can imagine yourself in this picture. If you can imagine me saying something inappropriate, then you can imagine yourself next to me in this picture.</div>
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Seriously, why haven't you signed up for this hike yet? Spoiler alert: there are no dead hikers floating down river. We all survive! You can survive with us, too!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRk8bacSBNv_K5G8ey3bpKCP6M5usEIpP4Fzglk2tUJHuysO74sVnLBPMYHAKNjSXZU2-SLaXH_IAvKzhQjSiNzyc3XZPV9orh_qIRHc7BIoVr4Kq4AH28LfCZYrxOxVgAdOP43uTz7RI/s1600/14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRk8bacSBNv_K5G8ey3bpKCP6M5usEIpP4Fzglk2tUJHuysO74sVnLBPMYHAKNjSXZU2-SLaXH_IAvKzhQjSiNzyc3XZPV9orh_qIRHc7BIoVr4Kq4AH28LfCZYrxOxVgAdOP43uTz7RI/s320/14.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Come on, my fourth-grader did this. You can do this. Granted, my fourth-grader does take after me so obviously he's an incredible addition to the human race, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't also give it a try. You're a pretty good human.</div>
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We're on a beach! You could be on this beach with us. I mean, we can't stay there all day because you know I'm going to have to pee.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCK5e1uH9QCk15CgCPYA4RZIBGuw0daE0-60-rQZWv3pkMXwzCadRMeGYFijM-WXQruZt_JEHl-ruir7Hcmy6ZT0Bz8cuwKj8Q3uKEN-di0hgS089kqySlAtU-vOR9UFORd3tRYVhDS9M/s1600/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCK5e1uH9QCk15CgCPYA4RZIBGuw0daE0-60-rQZWv3pkMXwzCadRMeGYFijM-WXQruZt_JEHl-ruir7Hcmy6ZT0Bz8cuwKj8Q3uKEN-di0hgS089kqySlAtU-vOR9UFORd3tRYVhDS9M/s320/16.jpg" width="319" /></a></div>
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Here's another 30 seconds of gratitude. Don't drink too much water before staring.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vBcO6EAHaG0ZKre-uNthIff6QJX7AazvHGjYqcB4olYanWXuDlUNwBSvEv33OWKHthbyAKYKiJ3rZst8SLEFx5E2OmK2nmUquw8syNPqJaSGjPLrnkuwwo6aDNI7DrS6Xqwu8pXkW9s/s1600/17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5vBcO6EAHaG0ZKre-uNthIff6QJX7AazvHGjYqcB4olYanWXuDlUNwBSvEv33OWKHthbyAKYKiJ3rZst8SLEFx5E2OmK2nmUquw8syNPqJaSGjPLrnkuwwo6aDNI7DrS6Xqwu8pXkW9s/s320/17.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Melanie and I stuck together the whole hike, except those ten minutes when I left to find her because I thought she went ahead with Daniel. Turns out she was behind just trying to make a 30 Seconds of Gratitude video without me in the background saying I had to pee.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPK1K4GU7d5Wb2xJYuBPomOylpozyqCEOsl352PpNNmUooFus_QHbnU6ldjDxo0WLs4mhTFq1UBNtGJvK5qIRhSNNvJw9TXKdMbPA5eZIBSQ1-g2d-Ua7n_4dHrlx56GbmjKPt_KzxZM/s1600/18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPPK1K4GU7d5Wb2xJYuBPomOylpozyqCEOsl352PpNNmUooFus_QHbnU6ldjDxo0WLs4mhTFq1UBNtGJvK5qIRhSNNvJw9TXKdMbPA5eZIBSQ1-g2d-Ua7n_4dHrlx56GbmjKPt_KzxZM/s320/18.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Not one complaint from this kid. And <a href="http://evegriffith.blogspot.com/2015/11/heres-how-i-got-on-line-for-7500.html" target="_blank">still as hydrated as ever</a>.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8c8U6yFXP1Atm1NSwkPnrGwkYUA27e9l818EQjAJcMp6zx2mOb7NIp7bQ8bh7yVn5EOkuxmNAGCeNWptgIPEBHtC0gTQgrpE7nLoLkSZ-t93Iu6c52S4VePsAaFYDAATZUEP3y_c2uQw/s1600/19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8c8U6yFXP1Atm1NSwkPnrGwkYUA27e9l818EQjAJcMp6zx2mOb7NIp7bQ8bh7yVn5EOkuxmNAGCeNWptgIPEBHtC0gTQgrpE7nLoLkSZ-t93Iu6c52S4VePsAaFYDAATZUEP3y_c2uQw/s320/19.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This one is safe to stare at for 30 seconds because there's no sound of rushing water.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitChpgr2lxSZKQtI3phlbkM5vMaXg4O397R0GYDA7Tfugme0OunvXyIHqUjff7h5iqTtyvz-nau_JnPaNi6huwTiS9g0iExvCw69JlMqOrk_cGF7T6WDpsWNGZp6ofHgKPDQGCfIXsDVs/s1600/20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitChpgr2lxSZKQtI3phlbkM5vMaXg4O397R0GYDA7Tfugme0OunvXyIHqUjff7h5iqTtyvz-nau_JnPaNi6huwTiS9g0iExvCw69JlMqOrk_cGF7T6WDpsWNGZp6ofHgKPDQGCfIXsDVs/s320/20.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This large wolf-like creature is Samson and he is the best animal I have ever met. I have no idea who his owners are, but I've seen him at the third station of the Foothills Hike for a few years. This year he led me, Daniel, and Melanie through the last eight miles of the hike all the way to the finish line. He jumped in the water and didn't even smell like wet dog; he was a magical unicorn in a dog costume, as I'm pretty sure when he marked the trees there were rainbows shooting out of his dog weenie. Even more bonus points to Samson for not putting his nose where it didn't belong, even though it was obviously that time of the month for me since we were on an Ultimate Hike. (Obviously.) Dogs can be so effing rude sometimes, but this one had manners.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvCKZvTnaA27oVZaBVxH6HoPFjY98lbedxxKzzrgRamrovIE9YIifqj6ZHLN1Zyx2JfTR3SeAShUeScsfJWQsEsxws3jAgZz7rCvt4rh3iUkxtcQDrGpL_p6Pe7RZywRTBRNja0YslBs/s1600/21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWvCKZvTnaA27oVZaBVxH6HoPFjY98lbedxxKzzrgRamrovIE9YIifqj6ZHLN1Zyx2JfTR3SeAShUeScsfJWQsEsxws3jAgZz7rCvt4rh3iUkxtcQDrGpL_p6Pe7RZywRTBRNja0YslBs/s320/21.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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You're welcome!</div>
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Best hike ever, and I say this as someone hiking with the knees of an 80-year-old and the uterus of a 35-year-old.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFIKFfMsLsS3Dl89yYLBxEbiqbNXQiauS9DA2c_G32npbB_Elh5oFklzQtuLtqkfna-ujmnQtNyXkRomw_orwmuTOUCQkbrEWkSsDqo-grf-F6gn4PMooFyO82EBtcw15nGzOt7A-Zh4/s1600/23.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFIKFfMsLsS3Dl89yYLBxEbiqbNXQiauS9DA2c_G32npbB_Elh5oFklzQtuLtqkfna-ujmnQtNyXkRomw_orwmuTOUCQkbrEWkSsDqo-grf-F6gn4PMooFyO82EBtcw15nGzOt7A-Zh4/s320/23.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Am I moving each hour? Of course. Almost eleven liters of water and I was moving from this tree to that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvqlG8Sss3I4DyI4PI3vB23JEtaXxQuG_cd_40EX4_Zv74G7o35jaFJnHjBQYh39qf2zbTSz8i2kxH8qN-wvbUhqXNObOzBzOS0kMh4uptMNxVVRAx9QW0WxH3rj5Ukz3r8x_pO_zIIc/s1600/24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLvqlG8Sss3I4DyI4PI3vB23JEtaXxQuG_cd_40EX4_Zv74G7o35jaFJnHjBQYh39qf2zbTSz8i2kxH8qN-wvbUhqXNObOzBzOS0kMh4uptMNxVVRAx9QW0WxH3rj5Ukz3r8x_pO_zIIc/s320/24.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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I'm so proud of this kid, but so upset that my ten-year-old has to take on the responsibility of raising funds so other kids his age don't have to die. The government only gives 4% of research dollars to childhood cancer, and childhood cancer is <i>not just one disease</i>. Try to divide the 4% between all the different types of pediatric cancers and you're dealing with fractions of pennies on the dollar. We need more than 4%. We need more Daniels. You should be a Daniel. Please be a Daniel.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pIMBSyhCam-QN12u5hzIp-Ufjjcu4aJxU_bOvyk-z9mHoKZKTEv0D3pvWXFxvf4eTySeNxlX-0FckKRLPNEg7EY8gUpoPDflRbcQd9dmMq8fhMYMRgxcrwIl4Fsu3mJQiUF4RsbRvUk/s1600/26.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_pIMBSyhCam-QN12u5hzIp-Ufjjcu4aJxU_bOvyk-z9mHoKZKTEv0D3pvWXFxvf4eTySeNxlX-0FckKRLPNEg7EY8gUpoPDflRbcQd9dmMq8fhMYMRgxcrwIl4Fsu3mJQiUF4RsbRvUk/s320/26.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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...or you can be a Natalie! She is signed up to hike Dolly Sods again this weekend. You can <a href="http://www.curesearchevents.org/goto/natalie" target="_blank">visit here</a> to donate if you'd rather sleep in and use indoor plumbing.</div>
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And guess what? I didn't even poo on the trail. #PersonalGoals</div>
Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-60504235384511815052016-06-20T09:02:00.000-04:002016-06-20T09:03:21.205-04:00Definitely Maybe<i>Thanks to Facebook memories, I got a bunch of notifications that this article I wrote for <a href="http://www.touchedbycancermagazine.com/" target="_blank">Touched by Cancer</a> magazine had been published four years ago. As we prepare for some upcoming visits with doctors to tackle a couple of late-effects, this seemed worth revisiting.</i><br />
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To say that raising kids denotes eighteen-plus years of uncertainty is an understatement. Will they grow up to be well-adjusted? Will they bring home friends that I approve of? Will the school system reassign them to a new school for the third time before the fifth grade?<br />
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Perhaps the most uncertainty I've faced as a parent started the moment the pediatrician felt a lump in my daughter's abdomen. <i>The </i>lump. A lump of utmost significance.<br />
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Maybe she was just constipated. Maybe it was a cyst. Maybe it was that crayon that I was sure she swallowed whole. But out of all the c-words it could have been, it was cancer. <i>That </i>much was certain.<br />
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Fast-forward to the hospital. There was something growing on her kidney. It <i>could </i>be neuroblastoma. It <i>could </i>be Wilms tumor. Wilms has a good prognosis, we are told. No one mentions the prognosis for neuroblastoma.<br />
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We walk through the looking glass into a world where absolutes are non-existent.<br />
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Scans upon scans upon scans give clues that it is probably Wilms tumor and she will be treated as this is the case. After all, you can't be certain until the tumor comes out and it is sent to pathology. <br />
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The typical treatment for Wilms, the cancer with the good prognosis, is to immediately remove the affected kidney and then follow with chemotherapy. She would certainly go into surgery the next day for some life-altering operation.<br />
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Until more scans revealed that the cancer was in <i>both </i>kidneys. This isn't the Wilms with the good prognosis we were prepared for. This is the five percent of kids who have the dubious honor of having a cancer with a <i>fifth </i>stage. And while Wilms patients typically have one tumor in each kidney, my daughter had thirteen masses between the two. And we're not sure if they are all Wilms or some of them are nephrogenic rests that will one day turn into Wilms, but either way, you can be certain that it's not the Wilms with the good prognosis we were talking about when you came into the oncology clinic all teary-eyed two days ago. <br />
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We found that there was little else we could be certain of. As in, we have a 9:00 MRI appointment. As the clocks strikes noon we wonder aloud, what time will she be taken back? “Soon.” Silly me for assuming it would be 9:00; that was a rookie mistake. When will the next round of doctors be in to press on her belly? “Soon.” When will you allow her to eat or drink again? “Soon.” <i>Soon </i>is nurse-speak for <i>please stop asking us. We have no idea, but we guess it won't be soon at all.</i><br />
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When are you taking this cancer out of my daughter's major organs?<br />
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We waited for what seemed an eternity for doctors around the country to look at her reports and agree on a plan of action. I found this was the hardest time for me, being in cancer-limbo. There is something deeply unnerving about knowing that your child has something deadly in their body that doubles in size every ten days and just waiting. Waiting to hear what the next step is. I'm most certainly not great at waiting.<br />
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It was decided that she would get six weeks of chemotherapy before surgery. Or twelve weeks. Can't be sure until we get going and see how she responds to treatment. The hope was to shrink the tumors enough that parts of both kidneys could be saved. If kidneys wore shirts, they would most definitely read, <i>I'm kind of a big deal</i>.<br />
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The radiation-oncologist came in to visit us. <i>Just in case</i> we had to meet again at a later date. Is my daughter getting radiation? Maybe. Maybe not.<br />
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Will her counts be high enough to get chemo this week? Maybe. Maybe not.<br />
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Will a delay in treatment be detrimental to her outcome? Probably not. But maybe. Can't be sure.<br />
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Will she get all these side-effects on these consent forms I had to sign? Maybe. At least a few.<br />
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Will she need a kidney transplant? Too early to tell. A few kids have.<br />
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Will I be fishing my daughter's hair out of our spaghetti? Probably. But some kids don't lose it.<br />
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After the first six rounds of chemo, more scans showed that the tumors responded very well to treatment. This would lead us to believe that the histology would be favorable and surgery was just on the horizon. And we spent three whole days getting excited about finally having the big day where the cancer comes out.<br />
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Until it was decided to do it all over again and see if could be shrunk even further. I should have figured out this pattern by now, that whatever you think will happen, most certainly won't. Except when it does, but only after you think it won't. Oh, the cancer world is an oscillating fan that you might throw pennies into only to have them fly back at your face at warp speed.<br />
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The tumors didn't really shrink that much more for all of the extra poison we pumped into her tiny two-year-old body. Stuff so toxic that the nurses administering it have to suit-up.<br />
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In the end, we got the answers to most of our questions. In the end, they were only able to save part of one kidney. But the good news was that the initial pathology looked great and the tumors appeared necrotic. She would be subjected to a much less-intense chemo schedule for the next few months.<br />
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Until the final pathology came back with an anaplastic tumor, which is apparently a game changer, because we ended up having to meet the radiation-oncologist again. And no offense to that doctor, but I would have been fine if I never saw her again.<br />
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Never had to see any of them again. <br />
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For a week we went back and forth. The will she/won't she need radiation scenario put other situations into a more trivial light. Suddenly the matter of whether my kids' school has an active PTA seemed less and less important. We logged hours of conferencing with the oncologists and tried to make the best decision we could on the information provided. It was all so...uncertain. There wasn't a case like our daughter's for which to compare. Do we really want to risk aiming radiation beams at the small amount of kidney she has left? Do we want to risk letting a rogue cancer cell take over the small amount of kidney she has left?<br />
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We went all-in. There's so much pressure as a parent having to make the ultimate decision, especially one we didn't spend the better part of a decade at medical school learning about. If this was the right decision, we could sleep at night. If not, we had no one to blame but ourselves. <br />
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It's been years since we had to make those decisions. They seemed to be the right ones. My daughter currently shows no evidence of disease.<br />
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But the future? What does that hold for her?<br />
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I attended a childhood cancer survivorship conference, interested to learn about the late-effects my kid may experience. It took me a month before I was ready to look through my notes, because it was quite overwhelming to absorb what may lie ahead. If you were to look at what I wrote down, you would think I was <b>certain </b>that my daughter would experience every late-effect based on each bullet point <u>UNDERLINED AND CAPITALIZED WITH LOTS OF EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!</u><br />
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I can't be certain she won't get a secondary cancer. I don't know the extent of heart damage that has been done. Hopefully her liver will hold out through college. Bowel obstruction? A gastrointestinal bug will never just be a gastrointestinal bug again. Orthopedic issues from radiation through the spine? Maybe her backbone will curve into a giant question mark. How apropos.<br />
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I was happy to attend that conference because it meant my child is a <b>survivor</b>, even if I left feeling that everything I had to sign on those treatment consent forms was going to happen to her.<br />
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But maybe they won't. The only thing we're certain about is that we don't know, really. It's not like we had choices on the treatment. Either you treat and try to save your kids, or you don't. It's certainly no choice at all.<br />
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I really feel sorry for my daughter when it's her turn to start filling out her medical history, though. Perhaps one of the few certainties our survivors have is a future filled with hand cramps.<br />
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Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-29730788000250044112016-01-31T10:38:00.000-05:002016-01-31T10:38:59.178-05:00That time we ate our way to Indiana.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So, at this point in the game you may very well know that food is my love language and it is with this information that I present to you the time my friend Candi and I ate our way to (and from) Indiana. I am convinced that we may very well have taken this trip even if Candi had not signed up to do the Tecumseh <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/" target="_blank">Ultimate Hike</a> in Indiana because she is not only my hiking BFF, but also my food spirit animal. </div>
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This all happened the beginning of October, but I have a foodographic memory. And now here are pictures of what we ate and where we ate it.<br />
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<i>Thursday, October 1, 2015</i></div>
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Candi picked me up in her van, even though it had almost broken down on us the week before on the way back from a training hike. This is because my van is held together by duct tape and shakes violently at 72 mph. I will never be able to go back to the future in my van because you are going to see some serious shit once I hit 73.</div>
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Contrary to the <i>nightmare</i> I had the week before, where I was not packed (seriously, this is how boring my dream-state has become), I managed to fill an entire suitcase of stretchy pants just in time for Thelma and Louise to hit the road after the kids went to school. AN ENTIRE SUITCASE. A large one. The one I took on my honeymoon. Granted, I just packed <b>one </b>whole duffle bag for me and the three kids for our last Ultimate Hike adventure, but this time was different. This time I had to account for clothing getting stained with whatever greasy eats I shoved in my pie-hole.</div>
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Oh, and I made sure to wear compression socks like an old person because that's how I roll. I didn't want the car trip cankles. We also packed a lot of vegetables to snack on between diners because I wanted to be able to poop. </div>
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The first stop was <a href="http://www.thesnappylunch.com/" target="_blank">The Snappy Lunch</a> in Mt. Airy, NC, which is basically Mayberry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLXHP1UIPK3fvR4uhU8LBKU43WT2dHJ9WSQUhAGyJDkdy4Zd79L5o-BAB_sDoBYGeCQjqHT-wsEnOXiZ1i2CHYsjA_E9eMYsVjG133n6WXiwAurW-rpNAE4sKY05NuCF1kgvg4MkXHI1Q/s1600/12045645_10206560347581897_9046469936345586417_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLXHP1UIPK3fvR4uhU8LBKU43WT2dHJ9WSQUhAGyJDkdy4Zd79L5o-BAB_sDoBYGeCQjqHT-wsEnOXiZ1i2CHYsjA_E9eMYsVjG133n6WXiwAurW-rpNAE4sKY05NuCF1kgvg4MkXHI1Q/s320/12045645_10206560347581897_9046469936345586417_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We ordered a Fried Bologna & Cheese, a Breaded Cheeseburger, and their Famous Pork Chop Sandwich.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lWUkD3eIXhCBxdHdpkgmH6deFuct4wOvkal3OoMI6390fryxYaLhVILqWFul4ZkHDVvRv2SBvDlpn7n2hv85qWprbWMzKnqNJJEOxhMfznEpOkzRINIutPu8s5jVKLE-wgHS8flDX68/s1600/12015000_10206560358222163_1175063540534499469_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lWUkD3eIXhCBxdHdpkgmH6deFuct4wOvkal3OoMI6390fryxYaLhVILqWFul4ZkHDVvRv2SBvDlpn7n2hv85qWprbWMzKnqNJJEOxhMfznEpOkzRINIutPu8s5jVKLE-wgHS8flDX68/s320/12015000_10206560358222163_1175063540534499469_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Fried bologna is my life, y'all. This was the best thing we ate. The breaded hamburger was described to us by the waitress as a "delicious taste of the Great Depression." Let's not mince words here- it's a doughburger. The chili and slaw on it were good, but it's like eating a bread sandwich. With the scant amount of meat in it, it could have passed as a vegetarian option. Lastly, the Famous Pork Chop Sandwich was good in that it had meat. It is also the most expensive thing on the menu, coming in at $4.05, so you better believe it comes with all the toppings (chili, slaw, mustard, onion, tomato). It's ok, but I don't know why it's so famous when they serve that banging bologna sandwich. Also, it will give you spicy burps.<br />
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And yes, the two of us ordered three sandwiches. But those three sandwiches cost less than $8. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiila5lk3u8mGlT8ftF5rwJharAcJ0joZeLF7PkLqnudyhZfGRqJ6vDg4Jq6O6LFG0cdzkktJgbYNBFYu7c0UTmZzLnOSwXkNv5EPGpkS1cmsdf2RBLiI9biAtwwdJ1K5lwtyYRXsJLPhw/s1600/12033004_10206560373542546_8376001404060460361_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiila5lk3u8mGlT8ftF5rwJharAcJ0joZeLF7PkLqnudyhZfGRqJ6vDg4Jq6O6LFG0cdzkktJgbYNBFYu7c0UTmZzLnOSwXkNv5EPGpkS1cmsdf2RBLiI9biAtwwdJ1K5lwtyYRXsJLPhw/s320/12033004_10206560373542546_8376001404060460361_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Get yourself the bologna sandwich (add tomato and cheese and, hell, go ahead and add mayo and ketchup to the thing if you're feeling fancy) and wash it down with a chocolate milk. This is not to be paired with craft beer or kombucha.<br />
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Between lunch and where we planned to end up at night, we stopped at <a href="http://www.tamarackwv.com/" target="_blank">Tamarack</a>, which, according to the road signs, is "The Best of West Virginia." <a href="http://blogsdir.cms.rrcdn.com/8/files/2013/12/tamarack.jpg" target="_blank">It's an interesting building to look at, and seems quite massive from the outside</a>. Once you are inside, you will find ugly shoes starting at $225, and by ugly, I mean seriously. Neon fish clogs. You will find $18k coffee tables. You will find a book called <u>Roberta Price Has Head Lice!</u> You will find good beer and terrible wine. You will also find that the building is like the black and white lodge from Twin Peaks in which you have no idea how you got all the way back to the ugly neon fish clogs when you just stepped inside. I highly recommend this place!<br />
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We reached our hotel in Barboursville, WV, which is not a destination location that I'm aware of, but does back up to a Cracker Barrel, so there's that. I was excited because the front desk gave us Toblerones. I think you would be excited if you arrived in Barboursville, WV and someone offered you a Toblerone, as well. You might even feel like the Barboursville Hampton Inn is the Best of West Virginia. After unloading the ungodly amount of luggage that we had packed, we headed into the city of Huntington to visit <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/central-city-cafe-huntington" target="_blank">Central City Cafe</a>*.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OOpVzAVyDg-aawvpFJDjTM_JDZvvI50SLgV91md9OGeRdUmtZU1kQUzgry5WdrGPcr3-HJINwqc_6p9v-sxAIFfLnSq8ZC-mE88QU-HPJNQhuu6OH1wCGqObC4KnrBPWvSiI7GWOaeE/s1600/12010755_10206561958382166_6590053816243754150_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OOpVzAVyDg-aawvpFJDjTM_JDZvvI50SLgV91md9OGeRdUmtZU1kQUzgry5WdrGPcr3-HJINwqc_6p9v-sxAIFfLnSq8ZC-mE88QU-HPJNQhuu6OH1wCGqObC4KnrBPWvSiI7GWOaeE/s320/12010755_10206561958382166_6590053816243754150_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Candi and I were the only customers there. Not that creepy, but a lil. Just three men from the cafe sitting at a table watching you listen to the music that is not playing and no one else to look back at you except an autographed poster of Guy Fieri, who looks as out of place as we do.<br />
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I had the meatloaf and Candi had the baked steak.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxKp6Cny3rLzmEF4dAuK9KMvrNB5Mm0NXjfK8nQQu5wV9jjPmfaf4ci1NclWXydOp06mayud8CytaJXNOKrpn-tq3tFk1YFu39YeXbTNOrXW0USDKV4WuiCKr-WlupREMX55FZfZjmvs/s1600/12095202_10206561968022407_2016005526789049087_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaxKp6Cny3rLzmEF4dAuK9KMvrNB5Mm0NXjfK8nQQu5wV9jjPmfaf4ci1NclWXydOp06mayud8CytaJXNOKrpn-tq3tFk1YFu39YeXbTNOrXW0USDKV4WuiCKr-WlupREMX55FZfZjmvs/s320/12095202_10206561968022407_2016005526789049087_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The food was okay, but it was like cafeteria food. In an old people's home. Old people are always adding bell peppers and celery to things that don't need bell peppers and celery. We boxed up our leftovers, because being prepared, we obviously came with a cooler full of beer that could store doggie bags and a full-sized strongman from the circus, and walked outside to take in the orgasmic smell of cheap white bread being baked in the Bimbo factory down the block.<br />
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Twenty minutes later when we arrived back at the hotel, I kicked back on the bed, opened up the box of half-eaten meatloaf, rested it on my bloated stomach, and polished it off as we watched <i>Flowers in the Attic</i> on Lifetime. I fell asleep next to the knife Matt packed me, because he was trying to make sure I was prepared in case we got accosted while eating soft-textured food. (The knife was dull, but rusty, and probably would have given a potential attacker quite the infection.) He also snuck a framed picture of two of my favorite men in my suitcase so, of course, I had sweet dreams.<br />
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<i>Friday, October 2, 2015</i><br />
The next morning, we got up, ate some hotel breakfast, and most importantly, GOT MYSELF SHOWERED AND DRESSED WITHOUT SOME KID OPENING UP THE BATHROOM DOOR AND LETTING ALL THE STEAM OUT. That was a personal highlight. <br />
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On the road toward Kentucky, I checked Facebook and saw a memory from that date in time a few years before, and it was nothing but a thread of covers and samples of <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FTQbiNvZqaY" target="_blank">Africa</a> by Toto, which just happens to be my second favorite song of all time. So for two hours, we listened to nothing but covers and samples of Africa until we saw a sign for alcohol, and of course we followed it for no other reason than it was a sign for alcohol and why the hell not.<br />
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We arrived at the <a href="http://www.woodfordreserve.com/distillery/our-distillery/" target="_blank">Woodford Reserve Distillery</a> in Versailles, KY and the drive there was gorgeous. If you plan on going to a whiskey distillery in old-money Kentucky, make sure to have <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_FGNvdFW5Q" target="_blank">this version of Africa</a> playing as you drive past all the horse farms. <br />
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I don't really drink bourbon but I do eat the free samples of bourbon-filled chocolates at the part of the distillery where they try to sell you $200 bottles of bourbon. (Lemme know if there's a gin trail that is closer to home than London and I'm all in.) I did bring Matt back a bottle of something because I'm the nicest and especially because of circa 2000 Johnny Depp.<br />
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And afterward, I also did what you are not supposed to do and got into a vehicle where I did not know the driver. He wasn't waving lollipops out the window or anything, but he had a short bus and it said "2COOOL BUS" on it. And I had to know what was inside. (This is probably why Matt put a rusty knife in my purse.)<br />
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There were three things inside: cow print, a large screen television, and the stench of stale beer. It smelled like college. This guy is living the dream, driving rich drunk people around Kentucky and tailgating. Also, his business name is <a href="http://www.busshizzle.com/" target="_blank">Tha Bus Shizzle</a>, which I would like to hear old white people say as they are sipping on expensive bottles of bourbon. "Driver, have Tha Bus Shizzle move on to the next distillery, posthaste!" <br />
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Our next stop was at <a href="http://www.whitelightdiner.com/" target="_blank">Rick's White Light Diner</a> in Frankfort, KY.<br />
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We HAD to visit after watching this video:<br />
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If you did not watch that video, go back and watch that video.<br />
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The place seats a dozen, maybe a dozen and-a-half people. You will get to talk to Rick if you are there because there is nowhere for him to hide.<br />
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Candi got the Muffaletta which was really yummy. I only took a bite because I was too busy making love to my Shrimp Po' Boy.<br />
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Omgeezie. This thing will give you the vapors. GO TO KENTUCKY AND EAT THIS. They put some kind of chipotle mayonnaise on mine because when you go here and they ask you questions about what you want on it, you just tell them to make it however it should be eaten. Don't be a picky bitch. Have a little trust. It will make you smile THIS BIG.<br />
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That's not fake-happy. That's real happy. That's a damn good place to eat. <br />
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Don't take someone here who has a hard time walking down steep steps because they will kill themselves trying to go to the bathroom in the basement, which could very well double for the slaughter room in a snuff film, but it may be worth it because the Po' Boy is to die for.<br />
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High off of good food, we got back in the van and drove to Indiana.<br />
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<i>Saturday, October 3, 2015</i><br />
Candi hikes 30 miles.<br />
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<i>Sunday, October 4, 2015</i><br />
We ate victory breakfast at the Clarion Hotel in Columbia, Indiana. It was the most interesting hotel I've ever stayed in. You'll just have to trust me on the details. But when we got off the elevator to go to our room, we were always pleased to see this balcony/patio/deck off of some lucky guest's room:<br />
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The balcony didn't overlook anything. You literally get off the elevator and can step over the railing and help yourself onto this balcony. I don't get it, but we had fun trying to get it. Here are some things we thought would be worth doing on this balcony:<br />
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-Drink coffee and read the paper wearing a bathrobe, hair in towel turban.<br />
-Eat a plate of chicken wings while listening to the game on a very loud radio.<br />
-Have a family cookout with our husbands in white aprons, holding a pair of tongs in one hand and a bottle of Budweiser in the other, tending to the George Foreman Grill.<br />
-Sunrise yoga.<br />
-Installing a clothesline for our delicates.<br />
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(This balcony/patio/deck may have been the least strange thing about this particular hotel. I highly recommend it!)<br />
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We departed Indiana and headed for <a href="http://www.burgerboydiner.com/" target="_blank">Burger Boy</a> in Louisville, KY.<br />
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It was an especially nice day to sit outside and feast on patty melts, fried chicken sandwiches, and cheese fries. FRIES TOPPED WITH NACHO CHEESE. The best kind of cheese. Dear god, I love nacho cheese.<br />
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It was good, although under-seasoned, which I've never experienced in a diner before. A heavy hand with the salt shaker made things alright, though. Works with tequila, too.</div>
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I think we are starting to look tired. Candi, from hiking. Me, from nacho cheese.</div>
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On our way to more food, we got distracted by more signs pointing toward alcohol. I tried something very expensive at <a href="http://fourrosesbourbon.com/" target="_blank">Four Roses</a> that the salesperson was trying to sell me, which still tasted like bourbon, which I still do not drink. It took me 30 minutes to finish the teeny pour, and I had added to water to that. I declined to buy any more booze for Matt, because it turns out I'm not the nicest, but now we own this Four Roses tasting glass that the girl behind the counter apparently didn't feel like washing and said I could keep.</div>
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Candi bought the good stuff. Her husband gave her permission to buy all the brown liquor.<br />
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After finding it difficult to come across diners that were open on Sundays, we stumbled onto <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/rosies-restaurant-rush" target="_blank">Rosie's Restaurant</a> in Rush, KY. And I'm so glad we did.<br />
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Candi and I were the only ones not chain smoking in the place, and apparently were the only ones nervous when a man walked in with his oxygen tank. Then a newborn is hauled in with her parents! OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE, AND SO IS THIS PRECIOUS BABY. Spoiler alert: we didn't blow up, but that's not for lack of trying from the rest. That was our nearest death experience on this trip.<br />
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I may have died happy, though. Because of bologna salad.<br />
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When you see the phrase BOLOGNA SALAD written on a chalkboard, you order it. Our waitress, in her doughy innocence, described it as being similar to "hobo salad," which meant she assumed we were familiar with something called "hobo salad." I can only guess that hobo salad is a specialty in that part of Kentucky. She also recommended eating it with french fries, because that's a thing. Dipping fries into hobo salad. I asked for crackers instead.<br />
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Y'ALL. This bologna salad was delicious. It may very well look like cat food, and it very well may be cat food, but bologna and mayonnaise and sweet pickles and onion is the only way I'm going to eat hobo salad from here on out. It was the surprise dish of the trip. Hobo salad.<br />
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Everything was well-seasoned here, presumably because everyone here chain smokes and can't taste anything that doesn't have a week's worth of sodium. Candi got chicken and dumplings while I got an open-faced roast beef sandwich and THIS is exactly what I had been wanting the entire trip. Cheap white bread topped with reconstituted potato flakes, brown gravy from a packet, and deli meat. This was my favorite of the whole trip.<br />
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We ordered dessert and it sucked, but damn if that roast beef and bologna weren't the reason for the season.<br />
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Since we were already the most out-of-place customers there in that we couldn't master that signature Kentucky accent (although maybe a Marlboro Red hanging off our lips would have helped), it made sense that we would stand up and take a selfie just to make ourselves stand out even more. I was on such a goshdamn bologna high that I didn't even care. More hobo salad, please and thank you.<br />
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We arrived back at the Barboursville Hampton Inn and feasted on more Toblerones because Toblerones are delightful.<br />
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<i>Monday, October 5, 2015</i><br />
I had to lather/rinse/repeat and then repeat it again and after drying off, found that a third repeat may have been called for in getting the smell of Rosie's out of my hair. <br />
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It wouldn't be an Ultimate Hike weekend without a visit to <a href="http://locations.crackerbarrel.com/wv/barboursville/" target="_blank">Cracker Barrel</a>. And there just happened to be one behind us because refer to <i>Thursday, October 1</i>. <br />
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This is the first time I have ever ordered breakfast at a Cracker Barrel. (I'm a die-hard country fried steak/hash brown casserole/fried okra/turnip greens kind of girl.) On this day in history, between two pieces of toasted sourdough, I had a fried egg, bacon, cheese, lettuce, tomato, pickles, and mayonnaise. And hash brown casserole because I'm my own woman and I do what I want.<br />
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And it was glorious. There should be a bible verse about this sandwich somewhere. I would memorize that and use it in internet comments and win all the arguments. <br />
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Dear god. My face is swelling from all the salt.<br />
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Of course, we did go back to Tamarack, the Best of West Virginia (although I think the fabulous people who give away Toblerones at the Barboursville Hampton Inn should put their name in the hat) and Roberta Price was still there and she still had head lice. We watched a couple of dudes blowing glass and wow. It's so cool. But more importantly, who are they making all of the glass angels for? Why are they making so many? There are still lots on the shelves. Unsolved mysteries abound in Tamarack.<br />
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We arrived in Whytheville, VA for lunch at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/SkeetersWorldFamousHotdogs/" target="_blank">Skeeter's E.N. Umberger Store</a>. I was really slowing down at this point. Thank goodness I had my compression socks on or else I would have had the Fred Flintstone feet.<br />
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I was so full that I could only order one sad little Skeeter dog with the works. I took a bite of Candi's reuben and her side of chili beans, which were both delicious, but I just couldn't shove any more food into my face. The hot dog was ok, but not "world-famous" like the sign proclaims. I know this because I'm betting most of you haven't heard of the Skeeter dog. A Big Mac is world-famous. Leonardo DiCaprio is world-famous. My love of tacos is world-famous. This was a red hot dog on a steamed bun with chili, slaw, mustard, and onions. It hit the small spot I had left in my stomach, but I'm never going to be like OMG THIS HOT DOG SHOULD BE KANYE WEST-FAMOUS.<br />
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The most memorable part of this adorable restaurant was that the bathroom was in the kitchen. I had to walk past a guy stirring a pot of chili to take a piss. Thank god for them that I didn't have to do anything else, because....there is no need for me to even finish that sentence. I don't care about where I poop, but it's unnerving to think of pooping where you can hear a spatula scraping a pan two feet away.<br />
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This is me about to tap out, and that is a giant hot dog behind us, like the ghost of road trips past.<br />
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Although <a href="http://www.foothillsbrewing.com/" target="_blank">Foothills Brewing</a> isn't a diner, it had two things going for it: it is my favorite brewery and it was on the way home. But there was no way I was going to eat any more food because see: entire post above.<br />
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Being indecisive to the core, I got a flight, not expecting it to be this much beer. It was about $8 and already starting out full, was more than I could drink.<br />
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Just kidding. I drank it all.<br />
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Since we were there, we couldn't <i>not</i> order something to eat. (God, we can talk ourselves into eating before we're even done chewing the last meal.) <br />
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Salsa. Beer cheese. Chips. <br />
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We ate all that, too. <br />
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And then we rolled out of the brewery like two six-pound sausages in five-pound casings because that's how we literally roll. <br />
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We are what we eat and I turned into a giant hot dog incapable of wearing pants with buttons.<br />
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I guarantee if you hike with us, you'll eat something yummy at one point or another. Click here to join <span id="goog_824372155"></span><a href="http://www.curesearchevents.org/goto/tacofh" target="_blank">Team Taco Foothill<span id="goog_824372156"></span>s</a> or <a href="http://www.curesearchevents.org/goto/tacods" target="_blank">Team Taco Dolly Sods</a>. If you can't hike this year, those links work great for donating. Do it for the bald kids! Do it for the tacos! Just do it already with ALL THE EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!<br />
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<i>*While I don't normally like to post or reference Yelp for any reason, many of these diners do not have websites. I still think people who post on Yelp are some of the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3O1sk3jA2Lk" target="_blank">most ridiculous people on Earth</a>.</i><br />
<br />Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-31577222453148272752015-11-12T15:43:00.000-05:002015-11-12T15:43:50.946-05:00Here's how I got on the line for $7500:Natalie really wanted to do an <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/" target="_blank">Ultimate Hike</a> with me. I've done several hikes, Eve had cancer, Daniel and Matt shave their heads for St. Baldrick's. Natalie wanted to do something (besides having cancer). I get it; because our bunch is such a loud-mouthed family about childhood cancer, Eve is usually center-stage. Nat just wanted to have her own way to contribute (again, without having cancer). So, sure. You can do an Ultimate Hike with me.<br />
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One day, when we were going out for a training hike, Daniel begged to go. He just did not want to stay at home and clean the nuclear fallout that passes as his room for whatever reason. I said <i>no</i>. He said <i>please</i>. I said <i>no</i>, but louder. He said <i>please</i> with a lot more e's. I said, <i>If you come, you cannot complain or slow us down. This is a no-whine hike.</i> He ran to get his shoes on and off we went.<br />
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On the ride there, Daniel asked if I would sign him up for Ultimate Hike. <i>NO </i>was the answer. <i>This is Natalie's year. Maybe next year if you don't whine today.</i><br />
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We ended up going a little over ten miles due to my habit of never knowing exactly where I am. There's not anything bad about always being lost because it just means you're training harder than you planned. Natalie looked like she wanted to throw darts at my face while Daniel ran circles around us. Have you ever let a dog run free at the beach to chase the seagulls? My son is that dog. My daughter was the pissed off dog owner who couldn't keep up with that dog. <br />
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When we were done and he bounced back into the house, I realized it'd be silly <i>not</i> to sign him up. Natalie could use someone her size to train with. It was difficult enough for me to shorten my stride enough so she could keep up with me. Giving the two of them a bag of Slim Jims and gummies and instructions to stick together might just be my best idea to date.<br />
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I'll be honest- when I first started training with Natalie, I had serious doubts she was going to be able to do the whole thing. We would have to stop every thirty minutes to tape up her feet and she'd move slower than a kid who was just told to go upstairs and clean their room. She would ask me if she <i>had</i> to recommit. Yes, Natalie. You begged for this. You have already reached your fundraising goal. You are doing this.<br />
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Naturally the next question was, "But do I have to do the whole thing? Didn't you say there are vans that you can jump into and skip sections?" And naturally my answer was, "You are going to train as if you are hiking the whole thing. It's a lot easier than cancer."<br />
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With each training hike, we'd learn something new. It took a while for us to figure out that Natalie's trail shoes were not only a lot heavier than a ten-year-old needed, but were giving her a ridiculous number of hot spots. Once we decided to all switch to sneakers, our speed increased significantly and no more stopping for tape. And, for what it's worth, I'll probably never hike in hiking shoes again. Besides the comfort factor, I'll now have much more money for necessities like nachos and bacon and bacon-covered nachos.<br />
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After each hike, I'd ask the kids what they learned. Answers included:<i> I really should have drank more water yesterday/I need to eat more when I hike/Never stop on an incline or Mom will yell at me.</i><br />
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Sure enough, the kids started making hiking their bitch. Imagine me at a taco bar; that's how they were on the trail.<br />
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Our last day of training was the famous Ben & Jerry's hike where we park at Ben & Jerry's, get on the greenway and hike 8-9 miles into Umstead State Park, eat lunch, and reverse it all until we return to Ben & Jerry's and eat disgusting amounts of ice cream. I don't even like ice cream all that much, but damn if I don't make it look like I'm just coming off a month-long broth-and-lettuce cleanse. <br />
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The first time we did the Ben & Jerry's hike, Natalie was so tired on the way back that she looked like a drunk who was trying to avoid a sniper, all zigzagging and droopy-eyed. This last training hike, she killed it. Training actually works. <br />
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In fact, she was killing it so hard that she was ahead of us a bit, leading the pack. And then there was screaming.<br />
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Murderous shrieking. <br />
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Someone was dying.<br />
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But it wasn't Natalie. It was Daniel. <br />
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That day we found out that usually the first person that steps on a yellow jacket nest doesn't get stung. (But everyone behind them will.)<br />
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Poor, poor Daniel. Yellow jackets are relentless. They just keep stinging you with those nasty barbs, over and over. My friend and I were also stung multiple times, and we all came running out of the woods <b>with purpose</b>. I have always said the only way I would ever choose to run is if there were a bear behind me or a Taco Bell in front of me. But now I know that I will also try to outrun a swarm of wasps, complete with flailing arms and a constant stream of bad words.<br />
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The lesson we learned that day was to start carrying Benadryl and also maybe hysterical screeching means that there are yellow jackets all up in Daniel's shorts.<br />
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So, basically we were ready for anything. Evil insects, long distances, bathroom breaks. (All of my kids have done <i>things</i> in the woods.) Matt and Eve were coming to volunteer, so we all packed up and headed to West Virginia. <br />
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One does not simply head to an Ultimate Hike without stopping at Cracker Barrel as there are so many lard-covered carbs to be had. Our party (and when you have 13 people in a van, it's definitely a party) was large enough that we got two waitresses, one for each side of the table. And then they would stand at one end and pass the plates down the table so everyone else could breathe and cough on your food before it got to you. Not before they reminded everyone to be careful, because these are HOT PLATES. <br />
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I'd say, including our visit to Cracker Barrel, we probably stopped between four and two hundred times to pee on the way up. Most of them were requested by my son who goes from zero to OH MY SWEET JESUS I'M LITERALLY DYING FROM PEE PRESSURE in about three seconds. (He is a very hydrated boy.) Two men in the van were encouraging him to use a Gatorade bottle, but that is disgusting and if I ever hear you make that suggestion again, I will buy a pre-packaged egg salad sandwich at the gas station and hide it under your seat while the van sits in the hot sun.<br />
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We arrived safe, no burns from hot plates or bruises from slapping some sense into people that think peeing in a bottle in a van full of people is an appropriate thing to do, and settled into the hotel. Natalie and I were roommates, and when I returned from going across the hall to tell Daniel goodnight, her eyes were red and watery. (Not allergies.) This, from the girl who may or may not have been told that she's dead inside, just like her mother. (If one is solely judging by our vastly different reaction to Mr. Miyagi's emotional, contemplative beach scene in Karate Kid II.) Nerves, terror, and tears mean a lot more when they come from someone who sheds them so infrequently. <i>I'm just so nervous!</i> I mean, not that she shouldn't be. That's a big hike for a little girl.<br />
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But we agreed that it wasn't cancer so it's not all that bad. It would be fun, and we promised to try to poop before getting on the trail.<br />
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So we went to bed for a few hours, woke up before a lot of you even went to bed the night before, and tried our bestest to poop and not be nervous.<br />
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It's just a really, really gorgeous hike. You have the honor of this incredible physical challenge made more meaningful by making real impacts on research AND you get to see this:<br />
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If you haven't signed up, you should totally do it if you like doing good things for others, with other good people. You don't really meet too many jerks on an Ultimate Hike weekend. Maybe a lot of inappropriate people, but I'm one of them so I can't be too judgy.<br />
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This is the back of Daniel's backpack:<br />
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Everyone wears a bib with their name and on the back there is space to write why you're choosing to do this hike. On training hikes, whenever the kids would get tired, we would talk about the kids who would love to switch places with us. (The ones on treatment.) Then we'd talk about the ones who died not because they lost a battle, but because they were failed by a lack of people willing to do important, tangible things to make life-saving research happen. Wesley was one of those kids that we talked about a lot.<br />
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Wesley's dad carried his ashes on this hike.<br />
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If you don't suffer from motion-sickness, below is a five-minute video of the first section of the Dolly Sods hike. A friend lent me her GoPro Hero 4 and we set it to time lapse, recording 30 frames per second, one frame taken every 2 seconds. This video is <i>slightly</i> less nauseating because I slowed it down 50%, but seriously...don't drink and watch.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/l52d0Iqo_OQ?rel=0" width="400"></iframe><br />
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Highlights of the video include getting lost and consulting the map (I'm always trying to make things more Ultimate), many pictures of my phone as I hike and snap, hike and snap, hike and snap, and a few seconds of stillness, where I was with Daniel having a moment.<br />
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Remember those yellow jackets? Well, Dan was pretty nervous about stepping into any brush-covered sections off the trail. Especially if his pants were coming down and he was going to...leave a trace. So, that took enough time for us to figure that out, in fact long enough for the two of us to get separated from everyone else. It wasn't until Dan was in the middle of giving back to the earth that two coaches came upon us. One jokingly shouted his mantra, "Always be moving!"<br />
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Little did he know there was a movement happening right there.<br />
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We got back on the trail and eventually caught up to the others in our pack, but not before Daniel yelled to anyone behind him <i>Don't look to your right!</i> a dozen times as he just stopped ON the trail, turned to his right, and started watering the wilderness. It was amazing how well-hydrated that boy was. Once we were back with Natalie and the others, I was in awe of how fast Natalie herself had learned to pee in the woods. Like, Roadrunner fast whizzing going on. #ProudMomMoments #TeamWeeThePeeple #MostHashtagsAreStupidExceptOnesAboutHikeAndTacos<br />
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There are a fair amount of <strike>boulders</strike> largish rocks that you have to hike over. While I'd have to remind Daniel to hike faster so I wouldn't trip over him on a straight, flat path, as soon as we'd get to these <strike>boulders</strike> largish rocks, he'd flit over them at 100 mph like Super Mario and I'd turn into my mother with things like <i>You're making me nervous!</i> and <i>You're going to break your neck! </i>and <i>Leave the trail to pee!</i> Like Hansel and Gretel, you could follow the trail of <strike>crumbs</strike> pee, determine what percentage likely evaporated, and have a pretty good guess as to how far ahead of you the child was.<br />
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My mom, Matt, and Eve were at the second aid station volunteering. Eve was busy waiting on everyone. Have I told you about Ultimate Pickles? They have been the vegetarian item at one of <span style="font-family: inherit;">our </span>Christmas parties in the past. You take a baby kosher dill, dip it in Frito-Lay <span style="font-family: inherit;">J<span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.4px;">alapeño</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; line-height: 22.4px;"> Cheddar Dip (my favorite canned cheese product!), and then roll it in crushed Doritos. Of course it sounds weird. But it's twice as good as it sounds, maybe three times if it sounds not-that-weird to you. Anyway, they are the official snack of Ultimate Hike and Eve loves to make them and she was, like I said, busy waiting on everyone. I roll up, sit down to change my muddy socks, and ask for a pickle. "Sure! The stuff's over there, Mom. I'm going to make this guy a sandwich." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.4px;">But he didn't even ask you for a sandwich yet! Just because I gave birth to you, doesn't mean that I don't deserve the same amount of attention that you are giving these other people that did not only NOT birth you with no working epidural but also did not pay eight billion dollars to the hospital for your life-saving medical care. After I made my own pickle because she was focusing on people that did not give birth to her, I noticed Natalie reading a letter from a loved one and she looked...<i>touched</i>. Of course, she folded it up and did not say much when I asked her about it because, you know, she's dead inside, but I found out from Matt that she was considering stopping at that aid station until she read it. So, obviously that letter must have been filled with a thousand tacos. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">For the last leg of the hike, I let my decaffeinated kids eat caffeinated electrolyte chews. Aaaand...they're off! If Daniel got in the back, I would tell him to get in between two adults in our group so he wouldn't be left behind. Once the caffeine kicked in, he started running. Our friend ran up to catch him and stay with him, but I wasn't terribly worried because if something happened to him ahead of us, we'd surely see his body on the trail. The rest of us clipped a speaker to the back of Natalie's backpack, pumped out some Queen, and occasionally said bad words that she couldn't hear. We kept on like the badasses we were and for the most part, still are.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">On the last stretch, you come to THIS:</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">And then you're totally listening to Freddie Mercury and you're all like, THIS IS IT! We really are the champions!</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">And then you're like, let's dangle our feet over for shits and giggles!</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #252525;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">And then you're like, NO, DANIEL, YOU'RE MAKING ME NERVOUS!</span></span></span><br />
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And then I'm like, my knees are weak but it's so pretty. Let's sit here and eat our way through these feelings for a few minutes.<br />
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And then a few miles later, Natalie came through the finish line, threw her poles down, and raised her arms in the air, all victorious-like. Despite her self-doubt, she kicked that hike's ass. Daniel bounced through, all high on a new love of caffeinated Gu (a gelatinous substance that resembles a can of pie filling without the fruit...basically, it looks like snot) and declared that he was ready to sign up for the Foothills hike next year. He declared this while peeing, of course. Youngest hikers in Ultimate Hike history is cool, but I'm fairly sure they will be remembered as the most hydrated hikers in Ultimate Hike history.<br />
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To be honest, $7500 seems like a good deal for all that.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/aKxGiLmdk1A?rel=0" width="400"></iframe>Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-47659880974723200112015-07-13T08:51:00.000-04:002015-07-13T08:54:32.700-04:00Clean pee for saleNINETEEN DAYS until I take Natalie (10) and Daniel (9) with me on their very first <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/" target="_blank">Ultimate Hike</a> in the Dolly Sods Wilderness. They are trying their hardest to raise twice the minimum so twice as many kids might be cured twice as fast.<br />
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How fast do we need research dollars? Well, Eve's tumors doubled in size every ten days, so...ASAP. Cancer doesn't take vacation.<br />
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<a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/ds15/daniel" target="_blank">Click here to donate to Daniel!</a> </div>
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<a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/ds15/natalie" target="_blank">Click here to donate to Natalie!</a></div>
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Watching the kids get better with each training hike has been amazing. The past two weeks, we've done three hikes, each about 14 miles. My kids pee more than I pee on the trail, and I pee a lot on hike day. I pee enough that I could bottle my pee and sell it on eBay to stoners looking for clean pee and Matt could retire early; if I bottled my kids' pee, he could retire tomorrow. There's a reason our team is called <i>Wee the Peeple</i>. Vouchers for clean pee will be given to each donor.<br />
<br />Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-34051494368830595812015-05-22T17:02:00.001-04:002020-09-28T13:21:48.760-04:00EpilogueSo, I've definitely not been the post-iest for a couple of years. We continued to go to Duke every three months for scans. Eve has had enough radiation to fuel a back-up generator at Shearon Harris. I laugh when people are scared of getting cancer from going through a machine at the airport; you have a better chance of getting cancer from being treated for cancer. We've been billed for CTs, MRIs, echos, x-rays, ultrasounds, some nuclear medicine scan that is so far removed from my brain that I couldn't pick it out of a line-up...<br />
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The past two years have been easy. Just ultrasounds and x-rays, blood work and pee cups. I am still the most proud mom on the block that my child can piddle in a cup by herself without getting it everywhere. She may not spell that well, but DAMN, that kid can fill a cup like a pro. Too bad this doesn't fall under Common Core.<br />
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For those of you who are late to the game, here's the Reader's Digest version:<br />
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<li>Eve's pediatrician felt a lump in her abdomen during her 2-year check-up. (She was asymptomatic. Please, don't skip these appointments for your children.)</li>
<li>We went to Duke where Eve was diagnosed with bilateral Wilms tumor (a pediatric kidney cancer).</li>
<li>Eve underwent months of chemo before having surgery, where she lost her right kidney and part of her left.</li>
<li>Eve completed radiation and more chemo after she recovered from surgery.</li>
<li>We have been going to Duke every three months for the past five years since she completed treatment.</li>
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Eve's case was always a little complicated. Of the 400-500 kids who get Wilms each year in this country, about 5% of them have it bilaterally, or in both kidneys. Only about 5-10% of Wilms kids have more than one tumor in each kidney. (Eve had thirteen between the two.) 10% of Wilms patients have anaplasia, or unfavorable histology; one of Eve's tumors was anaplastic, hence the need for radiation.<br />
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And also, the child liked to flip her port, so there were surgeries to fix that. Imagine something implanted under your skin that you could manipulate with your hands until it looked like it was going to pop out of your chest. Yes, it was uncommon and yes, it was gross. But she'll always be our beautiful, little complication. <br />
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There were times that I didn't show you the most pitiful of pictures because I didn't want to make you feel worse. I regret not showing you, because I think you really need to know what cancer looks like. I think you need to feel uncomfortable so you'll do something to help. You got watered-down glimpses, like this:<br />
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You got cute pics, like this:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>How cute! It's a 2-year-old holding all the vials they'll need to fill up with her blood <br />to see if her immune system is strong enough to withstand chemo today!</i></td></tr>
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You got to see that Eve made things look easy at times. </div>
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It's not easy for most kids. It can be quite traumatic. We lucked out with Eve.</div>
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You read stories of Eve getting knocked out with a variety of drugs. "Oh, did that kill Michael Jackson? Well, I'm sure our toddler will be fine." We made videos of Eve coming down from ketamine trips. </div>
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You haven't lived until you've seen your baby turn on, tune in, drop out.</div>
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You've seen scars and targets and tops of diapers that are filled with pee so toxic that we had to wear gloves to change her.</div>
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There were pictures of machine guns trying to kill mosquitos.</div>
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There were pictures upon pictures of Eve growing up in three-month increments before your eyes.</div>
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There were fingers always being crossed that she would drink that giant cup of contrast. (Contrast tastes like apple juice mixed with gasoline, by the way.)</div>
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But she did grow up, and that's thanks to people who have so generously funded childhood cancer research. Eve's outcome may have been very different if she had been diagnosed a few years before.</div>
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Eve's story, in her words last year:</div>
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Today, we had Eve's very last scans at Duke. Note the tutu. That tutu has gotten around.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcDZ_7bwyElwLnbpJitDZPA5a8SkP34oS8PJIu14EsEWaQJKUyWN0kLRALpfSrRCj62rqodqDzb99eicKcHXEv309HGsu9NH9G3b8nZZWmxjHw5uj0Ae6KBt-ftJAaukLC7RboDmlRQA/s1600/17950543276_d75c9217ff_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLcDZ_7bwyElwLnbpJitDZPA5a8SkP34oS8PJIu14EsEWaQJKUyWN0kLRALpfSrRCj62rqodqDzb99eicKcHXEv309HGsu9NH9G3b8nZZWmxjHw5uj0Ae6KBt-ftJAaukLC7RboDmlRQA/s320/17950543276_d75c9217ff_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This man, Dr. Dan Wechsler, has suffered through 5.5 years of inappropriate jokes from me. <br />
He is also one of the people who saved my daughter's life.</td></tr>
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I deeply want to thank everyone, without sarcasm or references to TV shows that have long-since passed, for continually supporting organizations that fund childhood cancer research when I beg you to. Which is all the time. </div>
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When will I stop asking? Well, until we can cure the two classrooms of kids who were diagnosed with cancer yesterday, the two classrooms who were diagnosed today, and the two classrooms who will be diagnosed tomorrow, never. I pledge to be that person on your newsfeed that you want to block but feel guilty about (rightly so) because of how many times I am asking you to fund life-saving research. </div>
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When your child is diagnosed with cancer, no matter what the odds are, for a parent it is always 50/50. Either they make it, or they don't. Sure, childhood cancer overall has about an 80% cure rate. But that still means 2 out of every 10 children don't make it. And that is the most horrible of all the horrible things in the world.</div>
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My kid made it.</div>
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We would like to celebrate this milestone by asking you to donate in honor of the kids who are still undergoing treatment and in memory of those who were failed. </div>
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I am doing my sixth <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/" target="_blank">Ultimate Hike</a> on August 1. But it's not just me. I'm bringing Natalie and Daniel, the youngest girl and boy to participate in hike history. We would love it if you supported our team, <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/faf/search/searchTeamPart.asp?ievent=1124887&lis=1&kntae1124887=F99D6B287719421DBD04D5F638136100&team=6227362" target="_blank">Wee the Peeple</a>. (You know this is the best pee-themed team name, ever.) We would love it even more if you signed up to come pee in the woods with us. But, if that's not your thang, we'll do all the peeing if you just do the donating. (Edited 9/2020: this is an old post, and we aren't hiking this year, but Natalie and Daniel went on to participate in many more hikes and raised many thousands of dollars. Thanks to all who supported them!)</div>
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Now, everyone go eat a Victory Taco. My girl is <b>cured</b>.</div>
Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-35315977017100226402015-01-28T15:21:00.000-05:002015-01-29T09:30:53.623-05:00SharonI'd love to tell you about my aunt.<br />
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My mom's sister lived fairly close to us when I was growing up, and I spent countless nights sleeping at her house. Her house of WONDERS. I grew up playing <i>Mike Tyson's Punch Out</i> on my cousin Kenny's Nintendo in between the times when his sister would make me watch scary movies that were definitely age-inappropriate. I still have Wendy to thank for me not being able to walk up the stairs in the dark for fear that Freddy Krueger might appear with his glove of death before the Fashion Police have time to show up and arrest him for that god-awful sweater.<br />
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My mom and Sharon were often mistaken for twins. I'd like to think this came in handy for all the times when I was "sick" at school and my aunt would come pick me up, but we all know back then that a hobo who just jumped off a train could stumble into an elementary school while sipping from a mason jar of moonshine without having to provide three different forms of identification before checking out a kid.<br />
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Sharon loved to tell everyone about the time she took me to the one-stall bathroom of Szechuan Garden while a long line of women tried not to pee themselves as I took my time and stripped completely naked to go potty, even though I was wearing a skirt. This is a habit I've long since outgrown, but every time we returned to the restaurant, we'd laugh over egg rolls at how embarrassed she was at seeing all of my clothes drop to the floor while the ladies behind her started shooting her <i>looks</i>. Because, as I've discovered after having kids of my own, you never want anyone to think that this is your kid when the kid is doing something ridiculous. You are only entitled to be embarrassed by those who have exited your own uterus.<br />
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She often took me with her as her plus-one to her annual company picnics at Gilbert Run. I remember Sharon would always produce from her purse a tube of Wham-O Super Elastic Bubble Plastic to blow throw a straw, and I also remember her pulling it out of my hair more than once. When her boss told tall tales about how he shot down enemy bombers in WWII, she would roll her eyes and tell me he was a lying asshole. I appreciated this candor, even though I was 8.<br />
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Sharon was an insane sleepwalker. And by insane, I mean that she would do (and say) the craziest shit. She loved her long nails and painted them any one of the many shades of bright red that she kept on her nightstand. I don't ever remember her taking any pills, but when she was asleep, Sharon was always looking for those damn pills. Always. She woke up one morning with ten different bright red dots on the palm of her hand, after searching for her pills in her nail polish caddy. I'm sure it was disappointing in the moment that they were all empty, but at least she didn't find a ball bearing to swallow.<br />
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I fondly remember the old three-tiered glass Christmas tree candy dish that was always filled with what I can only describe as old people candy. My aunt was not old at the time, but she managed to find the type of candy that I've only seen in nursing homes or Cracker Barrels. It was delicious, but it was sharp. If you put it in your mouth at the wrong angle, you would cut yourself. But I was allowed all I could eat at her house, mostly because I wasn't asking permission.<br />
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I drank regular Coca-Cola at Sharon's house. I ate Chips Ahoy! It's not that I'm excited about those cookies, I just believe their copyright includes an exclamation point at the end. (No pirate has ever half-heartedly mumbled "Ahoy.") I had my first blueberry Nutri-Grain bar from her pantry and promptly my second, followed by a brief wave of guilt before I waited an hour and had a third. <br />
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Her old kitchen reminds me of every family gathering where we microwaved BBQ chicken wings and ate pickles from the relish tray while waiting for the pizza rolls to cool off. The pizza rolls were forever obnoxiously hot. And there was always port wine cheese; we were fancy.<br />
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Sharon and David let me host birthday parties at their house, where a dozen screaming girls would barely finish swallowing their pizza before belly flopping from the diving board into the blue-tiled swimming pool. To this day, I've not seen another pool with that amazing tile. I got a lot of sunburns in that pool, and probably will have skin cancer as a result, but damn. That tile was <i>incredible.</i><br />
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I was convinced her house was haunted, although this could have resulted from the dozens of horror movies mentioned previously. The staircase gave me the willies. At the top of the stairs, there was a bathroom with a tub that had a sliding glass door. I would walk by and see the glass open before walking by again and seeing it closed. It may very well have been haunted. Or someone may have been messing with me. Either way, Sharon would tell me to go watch TV in her bedroom with the cats, where I'd be safe from the ghost.<br />
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The cats were always a big part of her life. Topaz was the old spinster of a cat, Patches was the pretty tabby, and Boots was the fattest thing you've ever seen. He would lie on his side and shovel food into his mouth. I spent a lot of time watching Home Shopping Network with Sharon and these cats when I couldn't take another <i>Children of the Corn</i> marathon.<br />
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When I did venture downstairs, it would often be to the red living room, where an electric organ was located. David used to sell them in a previous life. (He also once worked for the guy who invented Sea Monkeys.) I would bang out tunes, quite horribly, on this organ every time I visited. They eventually gave me the organ, and whether that's because they didn't want it anymore, or they just didn't want it anymore when I came around to visit is lost on me. Either way, I got the organ. It followed me from childhood to college, and at my organ playing zeitgeist, I could play the intro to <i>Bohemian Rhapsody</i>. Now I'm back to <i>Chopsticks</i>, because apparently playing a keyboard is not the same as riding a bike.<br />
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My favorite seat in her whole, entire house was the papasan chair across from the television. I thought this thing was the sweetest piece of furniture I had ever sat my ass in. Anytime I was there, Sharon would let me sit in it, although I don't really know if there was a line for the thing. I wouldn't mind getting myself a papasan chair today if they still weren't the size of a small satellite dish. I know the size of satellite dishes, because Sharon used to work for a satellite dish company. They had something in their backyard in the 80s that could have summoned extra-terrestrial life, four solar systems out. <br />
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We would often visit Disney World when we were in Florida visiting my grandparents, back before people spent the greater part of a year planning where they would stay and plotting out which restaurants they needed to make reservations for. We would just go, and Sharon would buy me frozen lemonade. And that was the extent of our planning. <br />
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Way back before I developed a debilitating fear of sharks and alligators, we'd go to Clearwater Beach where we'd feast on a picnic lunch of Publix fried chicken and macaroni salad. It'd always be overcast, and I'd always forget about sunscreen, and I'd always get sunburned. Not Sharon, though. She could sit outside in the heat for days at a time with nothing more than a Mary Higgins Clark paperback and a Diet Mountain Dew.<br />
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Christmas day was usually at her house. I vividly remember anticipating what was sure to be an awesome gift, destined to make me cooler than I had been the day before. Some of my most memorable presents from Sharon include a crimping iron (PLUS a curling iron with interchangeable barrels!), a Hypercolor sweatshirt where the black silhouette of a suit-clad man turned into a boxer-clad man the moment I blew my hairdryer on it, and of course, the pink and purple plastic Le Clic camera that thoughtfully came with a few rolls of Fuji 110 double-barrel film. <br />
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There were times I thought her eyes couldn't roll any farther back into her head when David would affect a limp and a Russian accent before asking the cashier at the grocery store if they accept rubles. She could really use that giant purse of hers as a weapon if need be. Or just when someone wanted to pay in Soviet currency.<br />
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Sharon was an excellent gardener; she would pull the weeds out of your yard for hours just because they were there and she couldn't sit still. Something was usually fidgeting on her, and I will always remember the sound of the friction of her pantyhose as she rubbed her feet together nonstop. It's a sound you can't un-hear.<br />
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She and my mom came down to visit me in college and we had a Mexican-themed party with my friends. I still have, and occasionally use, the quesadilla maker and fajita grill she gave me. This was also the time I learned to make the secret Braswell family margarita recipe of <i>put some ice in a cup, add some Jose Cuervo mix, and some tequila. Don't go skimpy on the salt. Woah, you keep making these really strong, Long Tall Sally. No, I'll finish it! </i><br />
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When I was going through my "anything with bamboo on it will help me control my qi" phase, Sharon bought me an Asian-inspired bedding set I had been eyeing for months from that giant JCPenney catalog you that had to purchase in the store for $5. Just-because. Natalie now uses it. <i>It's from the 90s, mom. It's <b>vintage</b>.</i><br />
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After we were married, Matt once came home from a business trip to Japan with an aerosol can of flesh-colored spray paint called "Air Stockings" that he had bought on a street market. The vendor pronounced the <i>Air</i> as <i>Ahh</i>, which Matt related to us sounded like "Ass Stockings." From then on, Sharon would always ask me if I was wearing my "Ass Hose," which sounds like a totally different product. <br />
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When I was pregnant with Natalie, she came down with my mom for the baby shower. They both forced me to lie on the floor while they tied my wedding ring around a string and dangled it over my belly, predicting that the baby inside would be a girl, because...science. They had apparently forgotten how putting a pregnant woman on the floor on her back is like turning a turtle on its shell. Once I finally got back up, we died laughing because I suddenly got the walking grandma farts, which is exactly what it sounds like. Shuffle-fart-shuffle-fart-shuffle-fart. They graciously took my gassy ass to the outlet mall, where I would have to sit down on a bench every few minutes because my back hurt so bad. Sharon would keep me company and make a fart joke at my expense, which would make me laugh hard. Which would make my back hurt that much more. Turns out I was in labor, but I remember the laughing much more than the pain. Although, we probably all remember the farting much more than the laughing.<br />
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A few years ago, Sharon had a stroke. She wasn't affected physically, but mentally. She was confused. She thought my grandparents were still alive. She believed she was living many states away than she really was. She lost her short-term memory. It was sad.<br />
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I do like the fact that she packed her suitcase in the middle of the night because the two of us were going to compete in a dance competition together. She would bring up the two of us doing this almost every time I called her on the phone. I didn't correct her because honestly, this was an awesome idea. We would have killed it. No one would be able to resist our besequined leotards. The smell of Aqua-Net would signify that we had arrived. <br />
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The kids and I took Sharon and David to lunch last August when I was home visiting family. The two of them together would always prove to be an interesting, memorable adventure as David was also suffering from Alzheimer's. If you didn't know them, you would think they were fine. Except, maybe, when they continually searched for the glasses and purse that were on Sharon's face and lap, respectively. <br />
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That was the last time I saw Sharon. She got progressively worse, being moved in and out of nursing homes and finally having hospice come in because she couldn't eat, drink, or move. They seemed to make her comfortable enough that she could finally say, "Peace out. I'm done!" And yesterday, she peaced out. <br />
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I know I'd be the absolute worst Vermont maple tree because I'm not sappy. I'm not your friend who cries. I'm what Matt refers to as "dead inside." I'm a laugher, and I have a lot of funny memories with her to laugh about. <br />
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In my heart of hearts, I do not believe that I'm going to meet anyone after I die. I love the idea that we all go back into the earth and push daisies to make someone else's time here more lovely. It's organic and beautiful. The thought of yellow roses, Sharon's favorite, growing from wherever I'm buried hundreds of years from now is comforting to me. Probably creepy to someone else with different beliefs, but they can get their own blog and wax on about that.<br />
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As with all things Christy, the two most important things to me are family and food. Both bring me a lot of happiness, so at the holidays, I'll continue to pull out my two favorite Sharon-recipes that she emailed me many moons ago. I know that anything you post on the internet is forever, so here is my way of keeping my aunt alive for much longer than I'll be here myself:<br />
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To: Christy</div>
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10 Layer Salad</div>
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Bottom:</div>
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lettuce</div>
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chopped celery</div>
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green pepper</div>
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onion</div>
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frozen peas</div>
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mayo to cover peas</div>
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1 tbls sugar</div>
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parmesan</div>
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shredded cheddar</div>
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fried bacon</div>
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Pumpkin Roll </div>
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Beat 3 eggs on high speed for 5 mins, gradually beat in 1 cup granulated sugar. Stir in 2/3 cup pumpkin and 1 tsp lemon juice, stir together 3/4 cup flour, 1 tsp ginger, 1/2 tsp nutmeg and 1/2 tsp salt. Fold into pumpkin. Spread in greased and floured 15"x10"x1" pan. Top with 1/2 cup firmly chopped nuts. Bake 15 minutes at 375. Turn out on towel sprinkled with powdered sugar. Roll until cool.</div>
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Filling</div>
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Combine 1 cup powdered sugar, two 3 oz. pkg. cream cheese, 4 tbls butter and 2 tbs vanilla. Beat smooth. Unroll cake and spread with filling. Roll again. Chill and slice. Good luck. It's really easy only messy when when you turn out of pan and powder sugar flies everywhere.</div>
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Love,</div>
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Sharon </div>
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We'll be going up to Maryland for the viewing and funeral soon, and my mom and I were discussing what people wear nowadays. <br />
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<b>Mom</b>: <i>I don't know that people really wear all black anymore to funerals. </i><br />
<i> Everything is different </i><i>now.</i><br />
<b>Me</b>: <i>A lot of people are calling them "celebrations of life" and wear whatever </i><br />
<i> the loved one's</i><i> favorite color was.</i><br />
<b>Mom</b>: <i>Then we'll have to wear lots of animal print.</i><br />
<b>Me</b>: <i>And shoulder pads. She could always rock a shoulder pad.</i><br />
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<br />Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-6687298647144979722014-12-19T11:32:00.000-05:002014-12-19T11:32:34.241-05:00Happy Holidays...or Happy Whatever Doesn't Offend you!<br />
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Also, my husband did not let me send any of these out, so I am virtually wishing you all the happy holidays. All of them.</div>
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We're still moving Mart Brent along the house, for those of you worried about it. Daniel caught Natalie touching the elf. I broke out my mad acting skillz, almost as awesome as my mad photoshopping skillz, and looked at Nat with horror and asked WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A THING?!? And then that girl looked at me with even more horror and said, MOM, YOU TOLD ME TO MOVE HIM! To which I countered, I DID NOT! I SURE HOPE YOU DIDN'T ROB HIM OF HIS MAGIC FOREVER!!</div>
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If Daniel figured it all out, he has been very polite not to ruin the fun for us. </div>
Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-73978168307393432612014-12-02T15:29:00.001-05:002014-12-02T15:29:51.134-05:00Mom of the Year 2014? Circle Yes or No.December 1st was a big surprise, mostly because I was under the impression that it was November 30th. The kids got up early and were downstairs running around. I heard giddy screams of "It's December 1st! He's here somewhere!" and "Mart Brent is hiding really, really good!"<a name='more'></a><div>
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(No, his name is not Mark. Our Elf on the Shelf is named Mart Brent. No shortening it to Mart- come on, that sounds ridiculous.)</div>
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I should have been prepared since the kids had been counting down the days until December 1st (when the elf arrives), but apparently I was too fixated on something besides not counting down to December 1st to realize that it really wasn't actually November 30th at all. It was Monday and my kids were up and scrambling for an elf that I have no idea where he hibernates the other eleven months of the year. </div>
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Matt pulls Mart Brent out of his dresser drawer. I cannot testify if this was his underwear drawer; I do not put away his laundry. In fact, I do not even know what the inside of his chest of drawers looks like. I like to think the top drawer is a place where Mart Brent can relax in a smoking jacket on his chaise lounge and listen to the sounds of cool jazz while he sips a nice Chianti. He's, of course, the most interesting elf in the world. </div>
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Deftly sliding the elf into his bathrobe, Matt starts down the stairs while I call the kids up the stairs. This is not unusual because I usually issue a minimum of three demands before school to come upstairs and clean up the underpants/dixie cups/gobs of toothpaste left shellacked on the sink. They cross paths, none the wiser that Mart Brent was about to get his faced stuffed deep into the Christmas tree. Moments later, the kids find the elf. Happiness ensues. Matt and I high-five.</div>
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I woke up the next day, which would be this morning, or THE SECOND DAY I WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE SURE THE ELF HAD MOVED, to Natalie putting a piece of paper on my face. I knew as soon as it happened that we had forgotten about Mart Brent. She gets up an hour earlier than anyone else in the house, so she would have had ample time to investigate his whereabouts, or still-here-abouts as it were.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNnm23Rg4dzGDMz4x64Qu0pNuadYpk2h2r2WOlUZEMBJz57HBK8mbiqNkPiGGw0LhX0iGcz0_vX0jNHEvpf-UsXj2fuSY1bKibiHL7PgVLL9Hh7dTr3_9zZ5bXYpTloUGEpjY0ZasIlc/s1600/15745258000_8b6135e62e_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvNnm23Rg4dzGDMz4x64Qu0pNuadYpk2h2r2WOlUZEMBJz57HBK8mbiqNkPiGGw0LhX0iGcz0_vX0jNHEvpf-UsXj2fuSY1bKibiHL7PgVLL9Hh7dTr3_9zZ5bXYpTloUGEpjY0ZasIlc/s1600/15745258000_8b6135e62e_o.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dear Mom,<br />Mart didn't move. He didn't eat his tiny party of his graham cracker. He didn't read Eve's note. I am starting to wonder if you and Dad are the ones moving him? Circle Yes or No.</td></tr>
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I'm not sure what I should circle, because it is definitely clear that Mom and Dad are NOT moving Mart Brent.</div>
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I was going to set an alarm on my phone to go off and remind me every night to move the elf, but then figured telling Natalie that <i>yes, Virginia, your mom does move the elf</i>, would be a lot easier because <strike>I am lazy and didn't want to set up reminders on my phone</strike> the girl would make sure he got moved every night. She promised to keep the secret and took the opportunity to hide it before Daniel and Eve got up.</div>
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I'm pretty sure Daniel knows, but he doesn't care enough to say anything. Eve will go to her deathbed believing in elves and Santa. If you tell her, I will cut you.</div>
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She still can't decide which way to write her Bs and Ds. Third children don't get the same amount of academic attention as the first and second. By the time you're at the third, you are so very, very tired and want to join Mart Brent in his penthouse.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDx-cHhKtRcYeds94Q4L1Z2Mlvrzp2GFlHh-YCo9TxmK0rqdfkskIVSk1xBi5WfrEveQ1lNQMQCktrENzTE5XGu-AWIpJNqCGX3Px8W_wRqetXFPtZ8DQ3m8Mq5q7h_ZsuEfo9qkpzKeA/s1600/15745484010_d9b3c67b73_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDx-cHhKtRcYeds94Q4L1Z2Mlvrzp2GFlHh-YCo9TxmK0rqdfkskIVSk1xBi5WfrEveQ1lNQMQCktrENzTE5XGu-AWIpJNqCGX3Px8W_wRqetXFPtZ8DQ3m8Mq5q7h_ZsuEfo9qkpzKeA/s1600/15745484010_d9b3c67b73_o.jpg" height="640" width="358" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dear Mart Brent,<br />You did a great job watching us. You are the best Elf on the Shelf. <br /> I have been very good. I love you.<br />Love, Eve.</td></tr>
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So, to those of you who hate the idea of the elf, I challenge you to come to my house and try to get Daniel and Eve out of bed on a school day that isn't in the month of December. Mart Brent is their reason for waking. </div>
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To those of you who take the time to have your elf make an absolute mess that you have to clean up before making another elfen mess the next morning, quit showing off. Just kidding, I really enjoy the pics, but your Instagram posts aren't going to make you Mom of the Year. </div>
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Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-78570007536953189722014-10-01T12:28:00.000-04:002014-10-01T12:38:50.400-04:00The Talk.The children asked innocently enough over dinner.<br />
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"How do the babies get in the mommy's belly?"<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
Matt shot Christy a look across the table. She raised her eyebrows and her shoulders simultaneously, answering, "The daddy puts the sperm in the mommy's egg, which is in her belly. Then it's kind of like a seed that starts to grow."<br />
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The children seemed content. Supper went on.<br />
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The week passed and all was forgotten of the question until the family of five was in the van on the road. From the backseat: "How does the daddy get the sperm into the egg?"<br />
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Matt, hands on the steering wheel, sideways glances at Christy. She is a wildcard. He doesn't know what she will say but prefers she say nothing.<br />
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Christy, in the passenger seat, ignores Matt's reddening skin and death-grip on her arm in his earnest attempt to squeeze her into silence. "They have sex."<br />
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Silence. Matt's knuckles whiten.<br />
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"What is sex?"<br />
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Matt's grip tightens. Christy slowly loses blood flow to her hand. "Sex is how the man gets his sperm into the woman."<br />
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Matt looks as though he is going to pass out behind the wheel and gives up all hope on not having the talk on the way home from the Food Lion with a six-year-old in the car. <br />
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Natalie offers, "I know what it is! Sex is when two people are on top of each other."<br />
Daniel adds, "And they are mouth-to-mouth."<br />
Eve infers, "And the sperm is so heavy that it falls from the mom's mouth into her belly."<br />
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Christy, despite Matt's pleas to <em>please just stop talking</em>, goes for it. "Sex is between two people who are, hopefully, in love and married. It's when the man puts his penis in the woman's vagina."<br />
<br />
Christy briefly wonders if she should add anything about homosexual couples, but now she has completely lost all feeling in her arm and her thoughts are interrupted with a chorus of "Ewwwww!" from the backseat. <br />
<br />
"And you'd do well to remember how gross it is when you get older." Christy is sure this should pacify Matt.<br />
<br />
Natalie asks, "Do you get pregnant every time you have sex?"<br />
<br />
"You could, but not necessarily." No, Matt still hates Christy right now.<br />
<br />
"So, did you and Dad only have sex three times?"<br />
<br />
"That's none of your business. We're not going to talk about that." <br />
<br />
Matt, having found elusive oxygen, exclaims, "Finally, we've found something you won't talk about!"<br />
<br />
<br />
Christy will happily give the introductory talk to your kids in her dirty, duct-taped van while driving around the greater-Holly Springs area for a donation to <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/fh15/christy" target="_blank">her Ultimate Hike page</a>. Because kids' cancer sucks more than your husband listening to you tell your children how they were made.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-46497795703261428252014-09-10T19:53:00.000-04:002014-09-10T19:57:09.349-04:00It's September! Be aware! Be very aware! But also please do something! Exclamation point!If you are friends with anyone on Facebook who has the unfortunate luck of being a childhood cancer parent, your newsfeed might already be filled with pictures of bald kids/pie charts of side effects/questionable clip-art of gold ribbons.<br />
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This is great! It's Childhood Cancer Awareness Month! <br />
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If you are friends with <strong>me</strong> on Facebook, I won't filling up your newsfeed with stuff you can know about cancer...I'd rather fill it up with stuff that you can <em>do</em> about cancer. YOU CAN TOTALLY SIGN UP TO DO THE <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/" target="_blank">ULTIMATE HIKE</a> WITH ME NEXT YEAR! Sure, you can share someone's infographic about childhood cancer, but it would be cool if you raised money to <em>change</em> that infographic about childhood cancer.<br />
<br />
I know the majority of people are way more afraid of the fundraising than they are the actual hiking. Which I completely get. Raising $2,500? That's one hell of a commitment. But what can that money do that your infographic can't?<br />
<br />
$100 can provide a day's worth of lab supplies for <a href="http://www.curesearch.org/Acceleration-Initiative-Grantees/" target="_blank">Acceleration Initiative</a> research.<br />
$250 can fund 6.5 hours of <a href="http://www.curesearch.org/Acceleration-Initiative-Grantees/" target="_blank">Acceleration Initiative</a> research.<br />
$1,000 can fund an entire week of <a href="http://www.curesearch.org/young-investigator-program/" target="_blank">Young Investigator</a> lab time.<br />
$2,500 can help CureSearch support five children on <a href="http://www.curesearch.org/Clinical-Trials/" target="_blank">clinical trials</a> for 1-2 months.<br />
<br />
<br />
Here's a quick breakdown of why you should give Ultimate Hike a shot right now:<br />
<br />
You only have to pay a $100 fee to register, so after that, it's <em>only</em> $2400 left to raise! <br />
<br />
Did I mention you can register for next year's hike, like, right now?<br />
<br />
So that's $2400 left to raise over...more days than I have fingers to count. The first of next year's hikes is May 16. You'd need a lot of fingers.<br />
<br />
Take Ultimate Hike for a test drive. You can sign up and don't have to recommit to the hike until five weeks before hike day. So basically, if you sign up today and then come five weeks before your hike, you decide for one reason or another you can't participate, that's ok. You don't have to recommit. All the money you've raised still goes to childhood cancer research. Everyone still wins. Except maybe you, because I was seriously going to teach you how to pee in the woods.<br />
<br />
If you decide you want to keep going and recommit to the hike, awesome! Virtual high-fives all around! You still have over a month <em>after </em>the hike to hit your goal. WHICH SHOULDN'T BE AN ISSUE IF YOU JUST GO AHEAD AND SIGN UP RIGHT NOW. <br />
<br />
In conclusion, sign up for <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/" target="_blank">Ultimate Hike</a>. I wouldn't ask you to do anything I wouldn't personally do, so that's why I've already got <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/fh15/christy" target="_blank">my page</a> up and running. You can do this. YOU CAN DO THIS. <strong>YOU CAN DO THIS! </strong><br />
<br />
And just think of all the tacos you can justify eating while training. You can do that, too.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-9744506590572209152014-05-19T10:01:00.000-04:002014-05-19T10:31:06.825-04:00Hey, you realize misspelled "recipes," right?No, I didn't. I was <em>trying</em> to spell <strong>receipts</strong>! And I did! Correctly! I win at the proofreading!*<br />
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This is still supposed to be <em><a href="http://evegriffith.blogspot.com/2014/04/the-promised-bacon.html" target="_blank">Let's Do Brunch: Vol. 1 of Non-Charleston Receipts</a></em>.<br />
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What <em>is</em> a <strong>receipt</strong>, though? It's just a really old word for <strong>recipe</strong>. I trust you won't ask me what a recipe is.</div>
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But what does Charleston have to do with any of this? Well, <em>Charleston Receipts</em> is America's oldest Junior League cookbook in print.</div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035099458/" title="IMAG0598 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMAG0598" height="320" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5503/14035099458_87492bd908_n.jpg" width="180" /></a>
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I know this because it's printed right there on the cover. Each section in <em>Charleston Receipts</em> begins with an introduction in the "voice" of a housemaid. </div>
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035188507/" title="IMAG0601_1 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMAG0601_1" height="299" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5196/14035188507_acc4e1e7e9_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My cookbook has some colorful language but nothing that might read as a Br'er Rabbit soliloquy from <em><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47ak4vjiNzw" target="_blank">Song of the South</a>.</em> </div>
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So, in summation, <em>Let's Do Brunch: Vol. 1 of Non-Charleston Receipts </em>is aptly named because it is <strong>not </strong>the oldest Junior League cookbook in print. Also because it's not racist.</div>
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-MRS. MATTHEW B. GRIFFITH (Christy Saunders)</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*Except for the back cover where I sure did not print the correct Instagram handle and had to print stickers up to put over the mistake. Other than that, I'm the best proofreader ever. I'll probably have it right by the time Vol. 2 of Non-Charleston Receipts is printed. Vol. 1 is going to be worth something someday, like an <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Inverted_Jenny" target="_blank">Upside Down Jenny</a>! And yes, I just compared my cookbook to a million-dollar stamp. It's that amazing.</span></div>
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Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-82516691039197328152014-05-15T14:35:00.001-04:002015-12-22T21:22:22.367-05:00That time we ate our way through Raleigh.The facts:
<br />
<br />
Matt and I were going to celebrate our tenth anniversary.<br />
Matt and I couldn't decide on <em>where</em> to fly to celebrate. <br />
Matt and I were sitting on the couch watching British soap operas.<br />
Matt and I were like, HEY, WE LOVE FOOD.<br />
[That was just an aside. We say that a lot.]<br />
Matt and I were like, HEY, WE LOVE RALEIGH.<br />
Matt and I finished watching another British soap opera.<br />
Matt and I were then like, HEY, LET'S USE THE PLANE MONEY AND SPEND IT ON FOOD <strong>IN</strong> RALEIGH.<br />
<br />
Thus, the plan for <em><strong>Foooooooooooood 2014</strong>,</em> or as I like to call it, "That time I carbed up for a hike that I am definitely planning on doing in August" was born.<br />
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The following is what we ate. If you are still using dial-up, this is going to take a while. If you are on a diet, maybe you should pass. If you are on a diet AND are still using dial-up, I bet at this moment you're drinking a Slim Fast wondering how the hell you cancel your America Online subscription.<br />
<br />
I didn't set out to write about this but lots of people have inquired. (I think secretly they want to know how many pant sizes I grew.) We didn't take notes because we are not those people. I just have a foodographic memory.<br />
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And so it begins.<br />
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<strong>Tuesday, April 22</strong><br />
Lunch: <a href="http://ac-restaurants.com/beasleys/food/" target="_blank">Beasley's Chicken + Honey</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055079271/" title="10250044_10202792759434548_9124239411649237184_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10250044_10202792759434548_9124239411649237184_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7102/14055079271_b4442a1538_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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This was the last day our kids were in school before track out, so we took Matt's mom out for lunch. That woman was going to stay with our kids for five days. Bless her heart. Let's buy her some fried chicken.<br />
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First off, I ordered some fried bologna. Bologna is awesome. I wish I had the funds to open up a restaurant and put it on the menu. It'd be right next to the fried gizzards.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055083102/" title="10264322_10202792761754606_7557295745422636797_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10264322_10202792761754606_7557295745422636797_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2926/14055083102_4c6915de90_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Matt went crazy over the mustard becuase it had sorghum in it and apparently he and sorghum have some kind of Craigslist Missed Connection-thing going on and now that they've been reunited he wants to know why it's been so long since he's had it. I dunno. I only get that excited over nitrate-filled processed meat. The <em>house made pickles</em> were a nice addition to the plate, although in my house, these go by their official Google name, <em>easy refrigerator pickles</em>. (Easy refrigerator pickles will be on the menu right after the fried gizzards.)<br />
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Matt ordered chicken and waffles which was good because <strong>I</strong> really wanted chicken and waffles. But just a bite. So he made the right decision. Susan ordered fried chicken with biscuits and sweet potatoes which only a person eight times her size could have attempted to finish. I got a vegetable sandwich because I was pretending like that fried bologna didn't happen, and an order of pimento mac and cheese to share.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055083112/" title="10176209_10202792782155116_4246390702729424560_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10176209_10202792782155116_4246390702729424560_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7404/14055083112_3d418e33a9_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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The fried chicken was pretty damn amazing. Maybe because it was A) fried and B) covered in honey. Susan peeled off her skin which made my heart ache just a bit, because everyone but Susan knows that is the best part of the chicken. That's why you order it fried. She did warn me she was going to do this, though it didn't make it any easier to watch. But the bird did take up about nine cubic feet of space on the table so I guess it was probably a good decision not to accidentally eat all of the skin and leave the meat unless you have access to a private place with impeccable plumbing. Matt's waffle was pretty good, and I'm not a huge waffle person. He swears it was the sorghum syrup. The mac and cheese was rich and delicious, but I couldn't eat more than a bite because<br />
<br />
THIS<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058285295/" title="10155411_10202792792195367_2655394359148369125_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10155411_10202792792195367_2655394359148369125_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7379/14058285295_f8308225a8_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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The world's best vegetable sandwich. Toasted sourdough, {sorghum} mustard, cheddar, avocado, sprouts, tomatoes, and my BFF, mayonnaise. It was a special that day so don't get all pissy with me if you go in and try to order this masterpiece and it's not being served. But it should be. Because why the hell would you create something so beautiful and then turn your back on it? You'd be a complete bitch. Don't be a complete bitch, Beasley's. <br />
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So many to-go boxes accompanied this meal. Don't go in and order as much as we did unless you are carbing up for a hike or maybe are under the influence of an appetite stimulant. Like prednisone, you pot heads.<br />
<br />
In summation, yum. This is the place for you if you like good food and drinking beer out of mason jars. I've seen lines that rival <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zzMcie7zgCE" target="_blank">Brunch Village</a> on the weekends so go on a weekday if you don't feel like waiting in line and having to smell those delicious hamburgers that they serve next door.<br />
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Post-lunch sips: <a href="http://ac-restaurants.com/joule/" target="_blank">Joule</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055078921/" title="10176031_10202792795435448_5588562223926524763_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10176031_10202792795435448_5588562223926524763_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5077/14055078921_4a2671d270_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I refuse to take pictures of coffee. Even if it has a cute little heart on it. YOUR PUMPKIN MOCHA LOOKS EXACTLY THE SAME AS THE DECAF TASTER'S CHOICE ON MY INSTAGRAM FEED. I got something called a Pourover which is described on the menu as <em>a method of manual brewing in which a thin, slow stream of water is poured over a filtered cone. Each coffee is dialed in to express the qualities that charmed us in the first place. This handcrafted experience may take a bit longer and is best when you have a few minutes.</em> Seriously, it said all that. My handcrafted experience was delivered by a guy who looked suspiciously (doppleganger-suspicious!) like Jason Schwartzman from <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HaKHp8glPc" target="_blank">Scott Pilgrim vs. the World</a>, complete with a cut under his eye. It just tasted like a decaf coffee to me. But the waiter was definitely pure evil. He must have worked hard to dial that in. *Charmed.*<br />
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Dinner: <a href="http://thefictionkitchen.com/" target="_blank">Fiction Kitchen</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058285195/" title="1907956_10202794859887058_8072505270647244458_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1907956_10202794859887058_8072505270647244458_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7401/14058285195_934d8b3c52_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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This is called Fiction Kitchen because everything inside is a fairy tale made up of quotation marked-meats. 100% vegetarian menu, much of it vegan, even more of it gluten-free. It's a hipster's wet dream.<br />
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The inside of the restaurant was one of my favorites as far as atomsphere goes. Crazy color schemes, unmatchy tables, servers who smile and nod and say <em>Right On!</em> Loved it. I could have been dressed up or wearing yoga pants and not felt out of place. Although some people do get dressed up IN yoga pants, and high-fives to y'all who try to pull that off.<br />
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Anyone who goes out with us would know that we don't usually order appetizers, but this was week <em>Mission: Food</em> so let's throw calories to the wind here and eat big or go home. I present to you, Spring Rolls with Spicy Peanut Sauce.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058734284/" title="IMG_20140428_212723 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_20140428_212723" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2896/14058734284_21c116cf58_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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These were nice and refreshing, especially since eight hours after lunch I was still not particularly hungry. WHICH IS QUITE UNUSUAL. The waiter told us to keep the sauce at the table as he took away our plates because "it may come in handy later." At this point, I was unclear if he was giving us the ol' Happy Anniversary wink-wink or if I would really have a use for this sauce with a dish that the sauce did not come with. <br />
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He wasn't a perv. It was for this, my Nori Rolls with Sashimi Tofu.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058285985/" title="IMG_20140428_212931 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_20140428_212931" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2910/14058285985_ee5f4dd54f_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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So the "sushi" roll was filled with brown rice, cucumbers, beets, vegan cream cheese (HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN?), and chutney. The first few pieces of it were definitely "earthy" and I do admit that on occassion I use the word "earthy" interchangeably with "dirt." Then I remembered the beets and suddenly they stopped tasting like grass and started tasting "earthy" as in "not dirt." Beets are <em>supposed</em> to taste like the earth. The "sashimi" tofu was seriously yummy, but if you don't like the texture of tofu, it's not going to convert you. The kale salad in the middle of all this fiction was what benefitted from the spicy peanut sauce. Because kale salad. KALE SALAD. Enough with the kale, already. WE GET IT. It's gosh-darn hip and healthy but in serious need of spicy peanut sauce. That stuff is the wink-wink right there.<br />
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Matt ordered the Tinga Tacos:<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055076912/" title="IMG_20140428_213028 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_20140428_213028" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7394/14055076912_3160f32ef2_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Made with mock chicken. I have no idea what mock chicken is made of. I don't really care though because I eat at Taco Bell all the time. The chicken amazingly had the texture of real chicken. At the tail end, I detected a slight cardboardy-taste but it went away quickly, and Matt didn't notice it at all. The corn tortillas were phenomenal and let it be known that white people should really stop ordering flour tortillas all the time because you're giving the rest of us a bad name. It came with black beans that Matt said were okay, but not as great as his tacos. He actually declared these the second best tacos he's ever ordered (after <a href="http://www.dostaquitosnc.com/" target="_blank">Dos Taquitos'</a> steak tacos) but would later admit he didn't really know if they were <em>that</em> good or if his expectations were just so low his mind was blown that "chicken" could be delicious.<br />
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Now, I am not a big sweets eater. I have a savory tooth. But you know, <em>Mission: Food</em> and all. This. This!<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055068351/" title="IMG_20140428_213220 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_20140428_213220" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2930/14055068351_2214cb92c0_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Some kind of vegan ganache pie with an almond crust and salted caramel. Mind blowing. I have made ganache a million and one times (chocolate + cream) and I have no idea how you are supposed to do it VEGAN. I don't care, though. Maybe it was me all being hormonal because of that bitch Aunt Flo but I took way more than the half-bite I usually eat of any dessert. This thing was good. And since it was vegan and gluten-free, I felt like I basically eating a salad. <br />
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Go here. Try it. It's cool. The cocktails are good. Tuesday is half-price bottles of wine night, so go on a Tuesday if you're scared of trying new "meat."<br />
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<strong>Wednesday, April 23</strong><br />
This is the day we officially left the house and temporarily moved into the Sheraton in Downtown Raleigh. This is probably the official date I can list as the day I would have gotten diabetes had I not already had diabetes.<br />
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Breakfast: <a href="http://www.urbanspoon.com/r/25/290830/restaurant/Inside-the-Beltline/Finchs-Raleigh" target="_blank">Finch's</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055082762/" title="1506701_10202797928323767_1057942243015110879_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1506701_10202797928323767_1057942243015110879_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7342/14055082762_f65decd5aa_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Matt wanted to take me to this Raleigh landmark before it gets torn down. It's been around approximately for...ever. It's one of those places where I wondered why I had never visited in all the years I've lived here but the answer was probably Taco Bell. The answer usually is Taco Bell.<br />
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Matt ordered some kind of hungry man breakfast (which I'm still confused to how he was not full after all the vegan food the night before) and I had a Western omelet with grits. <br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055082792/" title="10153869_10202798068167263_865317107048351842_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10153869_10202798068167263_865317107048351842_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2938/14055082792_fcb84afff4_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I have a soft-spot for Western omelets because my grandma used to make them for me when my parents would ship me down to Florida for a couple of weeks every summer, back when you could go to the gates to send your lovely kid off far and away for days and days of homemade omelets. I've never found one as good as Grandma made but if you're competing with a memory, you're rarely going to win. This omelet was close but it was really the grits that stole the show. Grits are a thing and they can be a really good thing if you know what you're doing. Otherwise, they're just a forgettable thing. DON'T FORGET THE GRITS.<br />
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Come here if you like using a bathroom that keeps the current day's copy of the News & Observer on the toilet tank.<br />
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Lunch: <a href="http://www.centroraleigh.com/" target="_blank">Centro</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058732894/" title="1513171_10202799596885480_6127913778911255172_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1513171_10202799596885480_6127913778911255172_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7450/14058732894_95fb374471_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I had eaten once before at Centro during <a href="https://trirestaurantweek.com/" target="_blank">Triangle Restaurant Week</a> and was impressed by every. single. thing. that came out of the kitchen. For lunch service, instead of being waited on, you just go up to the bar and order your food and then find a table. The menu is a lot more casual and limited but that's not necessarily a bad thing, especially if you're hoofing it in flip flops and are by nature, indecisive.<br />
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Matt ordered the special of the day, three chicken taquitos:<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058285005/" title="10310095_10202799284597673_2849645354885708511_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10310095_10202799284597673_2849645354885708511_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2896/14058285005_8615246c23_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I should have ordered these. They were incredible. I would have no shame going in there and asking for six taquitos. All for Christy.<br />
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I ordered the Torta with carnitas:<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078320493/" title="10308449_10202799287077735_5086386997507066862_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10308449_10202799287077735_5086386997507066862_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7095/14078320493_fe84afe953_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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The bread was delicious. I would have preferred some more texture in the sandwich, as the lettuce and onion's crunch were quickly lost among the refried beans, cheese, tomatoes, jalapenos, guac, mayo...ooh, now this sounds like a sandwich. I just poured a bunch of that spicy slaw that came with it onto the sandwich and that fixed everything. Slaw is underrated. It can save lives. Yeah, if you like a sandwich for lunch, but you also like access to a fantastic margarita, head to Centro. Dos thumbs up.<br />
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Dinner: <a href="http://www.stanburyraleigh.com/" target="_blank">Stanbury</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058732824/" title="10247282_10202801052961881_5596094634317350685_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10247282_10202801052961881_5596094634317350685_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7206/14058732824_c00d7b2122_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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The menu changes daily, as it should everywhere. There is no reason why you should be demanding chocolate-covered strawberries in December. Tomatoes should also be outlawed anytime that is not tomato season. If I run for governor, it will be on a platform of 1. Obamacaring Ticketmaster so we don't get screwed with those asinine "convenience" charges and 2. No pink tomatoes. Ever. Weak, pink tomatoes shipped more than three countries away will be subject to a heavy, heavy, heavy fine. Like, ACME anvil-heavy. No more bacon for you-heavy. Vote for Christy.<br />
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The first small plate we ordered was cheese. Which I'm sure was artisan, because COME ON. <br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055078231/" title="10300115_10202801081802602_8031770686297109014_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10300115_10202801081802602_8031770686297109014_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7042/14055078231_55ae87cddd_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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With names like <em>Point Reyes Blue</em> and <em>Red Hawk</em>, they'd <em>have</em> to be artisanal. And in this case, I won't even conjur up visions of Portlandia while I smirk, because I can't smirk-- because I'm smiling, truly smiling, because this cheese is so unbelievably good. Because, because, because, so, so, so very good. This cheese made love to my soul. And he didn't even need to come at me with spicy peanut sauce.<br />
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The next plate was fried oysters with sriracha sauce. Daaaaaaaaamn.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058284785/" title="10155910_10202801081202587_6289564660949406774_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10155910_10202801081202587_6289564660949406774_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7222/14058284785_99856d42fc_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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These were the best fried oysters I've ever had. Seriously. I grew up eating a lot of these boogers and these were <em>it </em>right here. They were cooked just past the line where they weren't raw (although I'd still have eaten them if they were) but they were still so juicy and briny and loverly. Matt said his fingers smelled like the ocean, which I like to think was from the oysters since I didn't see him shake hands with any mermaids. But this place was magical, so it wouldn't surprise me if a mermaid did ride up on a unicorn to deliver us a golden dragon egg as an anniversary present.<br />
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The following dish was a Vidalia onion bisque with the cutest itty-bitties of bacon and chives and a dollop of creme fraiche. I smacked my dead mammy.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058284475/" title="10151956_10202801291807852_6394367495967269560_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10151956_10202801291807852_6394367495967269560_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2912/14058284475_c538c33ddb_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I liked the addition of the bacon and chives because it added some different texture (in addition to being the food demi-gods <em>bacon</em> and <em>chives</em>) and the creme fraiche made my mouth zing all in its pants. My mouth gets bored easily so it was happy to be hosting such a fun party.<br />
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The sound of this next thing is going to make at least one of you throw up in your mouth a little but I'm sure it's just because your period is way late and not because you are disgusted by Crispy Pighead.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055078171/" title="10155317_10202801289967806_5822996908088821987_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10155317_10202801289967806_5822996908088821987_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2919/14055078171_19279d3201_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Holy things of all things holy. On the bottom were these creamy beluga lentils which I could have just eaten by themselves, but on top of that pile of awesome is the crispy pighead, which is really the pig's cheeks that somehow got off that poor pig's face and onto my plate. Then there's a mustard sauce which is hiding under the world's most perfectly cooked egg (Team Runny Yolk, y'all), and is finally topped with this sweet arugula salad that is without a doubt the loveliest arugula that has ever been invited to my mouth party. I know the menu must change but it's a bittersweet realization for me as I want to experience this again but fully trust whoever is sharpening their knives back there in that kitchen to serve me up some cheeks in an equally exciting yet different way. Let me stop waxing on. Go there. Eat this. Crispy Pighead not <em>yuck</em> but <strong><em>yum</em></strong>.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058732374/" title="10267776_10202801297367991_4609254367509503003_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10267776_10202801297367991_4609254367509503003_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5114/14058732374_e6471e36a3_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I'd have to say that you should definitely go to Stanbury if you like to try really great food. As in, you don't have a standing frozen burrito night in your weekly dinner rotation. We were sitting both inside and outside, which I realize doesn't make any sense, but if the weather is beautiful, you should go there and figure it out and high five me later. They have some great potent potables yet they will also decant forty ounces of the Champagne of Beers at your table. Fortunately they brought us some bubbly that didn't come from a gas station.<br />
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Post-dinner treats: <a href="http://www.escazuchocolates.com/" target="_blank">Escazu Artisan Chocolates</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055081992/" title="10308099_10202801348529270_1596391613279247583_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10308099_10202801348529270_1596391613279247583_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2924/14055081992_588a5797f2_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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This place is right next door to Stanbury, so you'd be a real numbnuts not to visit. It was hard to choose what to order, especially since I am not <em>that</em> into sweets, but the liquid stimulants they gave me back at the restaurant coupled with all the pretty bon bons did force me to ask how much it would be for one of everything. <br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035143486/" title="10269555_10202801356849478_2460508493206926282_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10269555_10202801356849478_2460508493206926282_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7325/14035143486_740aa66f6c_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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We didn't order one of everything but that's not for lack of trying. This is what we ended up with. I can't tell you what we got but you should probably just trust me that it was good and you need to go support your local chocolate economy. It's like a jewelry store but with CHOCOLATE. I'm amazed no one has broken into Escazu with a ski mask in the middle of the night. <br />
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<strong>Thursday, April 24</strong><br />
Breakfast: <a href="http://www.mecca-restaurant.com/" target="_blank">Mecca</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055077791/" title="10294268_10202804232601370_8965189945992897199_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10294268_10202804232601370_8965189945992897199_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2918/14055077791_d786072830_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Another place that has been here forever, if the beginning of time was in the '30s. We learned from the day before not to order anything with the words <em>hungry</em>, <em>man</em>, or <em>breakfast </em>in the title, especially in that order. I'll admit to still being a little full when we arrived. Not that that has ever stopped me before.<br />
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Matt ordered a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit and some coffee. I tried to order a decaf coffee but the waitress told me the only decaf they have is Sanka, so thanks to her for keeping it real.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035143326/" title="10277760_10202804272082357_3062630323095867575_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10277760_10202804272082357_3062630323095867575_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2902/14035143326_5e23ae278b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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This isn't terribly exciting looking but Matt made some light moaning noises, not enough to make you think that his tongue was going to need a cold shower, but enough to convey that it was well made. <br />
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I ordered a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich with mayonnaise and pickles.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035143346/" title="10291053_10202804319403540_5090069265649391189_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10291053_10202804319403540_5090069265649391189_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7320/14035143346_a361ed7bfa_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Because, duh. Mayonnaise and pickles! Delicious. <br />
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This is a cute place to go for simple, cheap eats. What you get is what you get- nothing more, nothing less. Also, we saw them serve a man a beer with breakfast, so there's that.<br />
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Lunch: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=%22https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078319273/%22%20title=%2210250277_10202805840841575_6120046856141532573_n%20by%20messy_chef,%20on%20Flickr%22%3E%3Cimg%20src=%22https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5175/14078319273_c8ddff1f0b.jpg%22%20width=%22500%22%20height=%22500%22%20alt=%2210250277_10202805840841575_6120046856141532573_n%22%3E%3C/a%3E" target="_blank">Bida Manda</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078319273/" title="10250277_10202805840841575_6120046856141532573_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10250277_10202805840841575_6120046856141532573_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5175/14078319273_c8ddff1f0b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I remember meeting the guy who owns this place through a mutual friend one night and when he told me what he was opening- a Laotian restauarant- my initial thought was <em>King of the Hill</em>. I could not remember ever seeing what Kahn and Minh ate so I had no idea what Laotian food was. But I knew I totally wanted it. Mostly because I always want food.<br />
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Matt felt like he needed some vegetables in his life so we got some summer rolls. They were fresh, definitely, and did not leave me feeling like I needed a nap, like I do after most meals. But I don't want to talk about the rolls; I want to talk about the red drink at the far left.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055077411/" title="1926796_10202805894762923_1828112555217433858_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1926796_10202805894762923_1828112555217433858_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7374/14055077411_aa186b1c84_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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It's what they call a "Srirachelada." Laotian beer with sriracha, lime, and pickle juice. OF COURSE WE WERE GOING TO ORDER THIS.<br />
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The first sip was good. I gave it a thumbs up. The second sip was okay. I gave it a shoulder shrug. The third sip was neither good nor okay. It gave me heartburn. If this was served as a shooter, I'd have sung its praises. A whole pint glass of this stuff is undrinkable. And this is coming from someone who likes to dip pickles in nacho cheese and Doritos. Someone who just ate pickles on her egg sandwich at breakfast! In summation, gross. Don't do it. I bet there's at least one dumbass who will read this and order it the next time they're there, though.<br />
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Like I said, Matt felt like he needed some fiber, so here's a salad.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035142886/" title="10170729_10202806061807099_8628587688852823265_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10170729_10202806061807099_8628587688852823265_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5074/14035142886_0203ac95cf_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I didn't eat any of this (you'll see why in a moment) but it looks really amazing, right? Herbs, spring rolls, tofu, shrimp, and peanut sauce. Okay, I did eat the peanut sauce. Matt said it was good as he was eating it, but days later would tell me that he wasn't <em>that</em> impressed with it. Because it was a salad. So that's basically his fault. I think he was just jealous that everyone else in the restaurant chose to eat carbs and he chose poorly.<br />
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Matt may have felt the need for fiber but I went ahead and ordered the Crispy Pork Belly Soup. <br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078318983/" title="10154066_10202806048886776_6144948506007698900_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10154066_10202806048886776_6144948506007698900_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2912/14078318983_5f10f5b37f_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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This is basically a coconut curry-flavored broth with rice noodles and some crispy pork belly on top. For such a flavorful and delicious broth, the noodles didn't have much flavor. I would have happily just ordered a pint of the broth to drink in place of the Srirachelada. I know people are going ape-shit over this soup because Billy Joel ordered it or something, but I don't care what Billy Joel or Charles Barkley, or even Jesus for that matter, eats. I want what I want when I want it. The pork belly was more on the chewy side than I would have liked but definitely full of that badforyou flavor I love. It wasn't a bad entree by any means, but I wouldn't order it again. I just wasn't as blown away as I thought I would be. I saw lots of other food that I want to try there the next time we go. Because I've already decided I'm going back and ordering that curry the lady next to us was making love to.<br />
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This place is for those of you who want to go to the first Laotian restaurant to open in the country. I know that because I heard a waiter tell that to a table. <br />
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Post-lunch sips: <a href="http://beneluxcoffee.com/" target="_blank">Benelux</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055077341/" title="10292139_10202806350854325_6133498065803669426_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10292139_10202806350854325_6133498065803669426_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5345/14055077341_cc14fabcbe_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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We walked over to Benelux Cafe for some coffee and a sweet, because I was apparently growing a sweet tooth on this food tour. I just can't be taken seriously anymore when I tell people I don't really like dessert.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078318743/" title="10259934_10202806393135382_5060050701593244881_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10259934_10202806393135382_5060050701593244881_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7412/14078318743_ec588ff428_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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OMGOMGOMG. This Benelux Pecan Bar was <em>Oh My Goddess</em> good. They had me at cream cheese and pecans. They kept me with cream cheese and pecans. They were never going to lose me. Ever. <br />
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The coffee was good, too. I think. I don't remember it being bad. I just remember the moans pushed some buttery crumbs out of my mouth. They probably could have served me motor oil and I wouldn't have noticed at that point.<br />
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I have to admit that I'm not a coffee connoisseur. I can't tell you the region or altitude of sub-Saharn Africa I prefer my beans to be grown in or how those beans are roasted or how those beans are blended. I drink decaf, so the choices aren't as vast for me. Which is fine. I would just stand there looking at the menu behind the barista with my mouth hanging open, anyway. What I don't like is Starbucks. I don't know what it is about Starbucks coffee, but I've never enjoyed a cup there. I usually go back and trade it in for tea. So that's the kind of person you're dealing with, here. I've never really had coffee I didn't enjoy anywhere else. I enjoyed the coffee here, Matt enjoyed the coffee here, and everyone mustached with cat shirts and Jamaican-colored beanie caps using the free wi-fi enjoyed the coffee here. Which was basically everyone but me and Matt.<br />
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This is a good place to go if you like to drink in coffee shops with couches and bicycles covered in yarn hanging on the wall. It's an even better place to go if you want to eat pecan bars and make gutteral sounds of pleasure on a couch under a bicycle covered in yarn hanging on the wall. <br />
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Dinner: <a href="http://www.second-empire.com/" target="_blank">Second Empire</a><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058283445/" title="10153916_10202808779475039_4641754901729720045_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10153916_10202808779475039_4641754901729720045_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2907/14058283445_c619292474_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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We have eaten at Second Empire in the past, but always in the dining room. For this meal, we reserved the Chef's Table. We were escorted to the back, where our table awaited us in the middle of the kitchen. Seriously, we were sitting<em> in the middle of the kitchen</em>. The staff encouraged us to get up and walk around and talk to them and see what was going on. <br />
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On the table was a menu that the chef had come up with for us that evening. When I made the reservations, I was asked what we liked or didn't like. It was easy to reply as the answers are everything and nothing, in that order. But please to make sure there is foie gras on the menu because I -heart- that stuff so much.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055080772/" title="1959376_10202808863757146_5595491333705957300_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1959376_10202808863757146_5595491333705957300_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7304/14055080772_a224264911_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Each course came paired with wine so YAY. You don't have to make any decisions. And did I mention there was wine? And it didn't come from Trader Joe's.<br />
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Also there were plenty of fancy cocktails that kept flowing from the bar to right in front of our plates. They were good to chug when it turned into Hell's Kitchen in there and the chef was yelling at people to get their shit together.<br />
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Anyway, I'm going to go ahead and call Chef Schurr a genius because everything that went into my mouth was a masterpiece. And it was all so theatrical. It was Masterpiece Theater but without the constant interruptions pleading for public support from viewers like you. <br />
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I'll put all these descriptions in italics because I am just going to copy them straight from the menu. I think it also makes it seem as fancy as it was in front of us.<br />
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First Course- <em>Pan Roasted Sea Scallop & Crispy Pork Belly over english pea & corn risotto, garlicky spinach, sweet potato puree, asian snow pea slaw, coconut & curry cream. Paired with Peju Sauvignon Blanc, Napa '13.</em><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055076951/" title="11895_10202808788755271_9035512488044262575_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="11895_10202808788755271_9035512488044262575_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7386/14055076951_4874f9c522_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Hot damn. This scallop was the most perfect scallop I've ever had in my life. It's a good thing I didn't see who cooked it because I had enough wine flowing that I would have gone over there and goosed them good. The pork belly was also the best I had ever had, which we were told had been cooked in Pepsi. This was crispy on the outside but melted in your mouth when you bit into it. It was the kind of food that you cut into teeny-tiny pieces because you didn't want it to end. It's been a couple of weeks but I can still taste it. I know there was a lot of <em>Mmm</em>ing going on. More than you could ever know.<br />
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Second Course- <em>Pan Seared Hudson Valley Foie Gras over creamy hominy grit & oregon mushroom ragout, corn puree, grilled collard greens, mango salsa, three vinegars. Paired with Kelin Constantia, South Africa '07.</em><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058283305/" title="10169400_10202808795475439_3167046849897740686_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10169400_10202808795475439_3167046849897740686_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7180/14058283305_66eaf94ab9_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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This may look similar to the first course but don't be tricked- they just really like drizzling sauces on the bottom and working their way up high to a bit of greens on the top. This was the first time I had whole hominy and WOWZA. I should have asked more about how they prepared it because it was incredible. But of course, I'm not here to talk about hominy. I'm here to tell you that the foie gras was, you guessed it, the best ever. I have to stop talking about it now because I am making myself extremely hungry and somehow a bowl of ramen isn't going to cut it at the moment.<br />
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Third Course- <em>Raspberry & Mango Sorbet</em><br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055080912/" title="10297936_10202808803235633_6180030641759712314_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10297936_10202808803235633_6180030641759712314_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7090/14055080912_db7ff784ca_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Yum. I guess this is exactly what I needed after all that glorious, glorious fat. I ordered a sloe gin fizz when this came out only because I had never had one and it had always sounded interesting and there was no wine with this course. It was pink so I had to drink it fast because I don't believe in pink drinks, although they aren't as bad as anything apple green. Tangent alert: A MARTINI GLASS DOES NOT A MARTINI MAKE. There are chocolate drinks, there are sour apple drinks, there are lemon drinks. Putting any one of these in a martini glass just makes it a chocolate or sour apple or lemon drink in a martini glass. I can't be seen with you in public if you insist on drinking something ridiculously colored in a glass that should only hold gin, vermouth, and an olive. You should be forced to drink that other stuff out of a Tervis Tumbler. <br />
<br />
But now I just realized that this sorbet was served in a martini glass. That's ok. They weren't trying to call it a raspberry-mango martini.<br />
<br />
Fourth Course- <em>Grilled Australian Lamb Rack with purple & fingerling potatoes & artichokes, creamy leeks & tuscan kale, roasted asparagus, asian eggplant, chipotle golden raisin jus. Paired with Vina Pomal Reserva, Rioja '08.</em><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055080802/" title="1480495_10202808808555766_2088862168509340114_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1480495_10202808808555766_2088862168509340114_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7225/14055080802_2172bd140a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Y'all. I can't even. I was getting pretty full at this point, since we were taking hours to eat and my stomach was like, yo! I was full an hour ago! But I didn't care. That raisin jus was fiiiiiiiiiiiine. The eggplant, yesssss! The lamb? Best lamb I've ever had. I even ate the leeks, and these turned out to be my favorite component of this course. When I was initially asked if there is anything we don't like, I didn't mention leeks. But I don't eat leeks. Well, I did, but once I was in culinary school and pregnant with Natalie, I had a heavy case of morningnoonandnight sickness. I had to make this mushroom and leek soup, and it all came back up. It took a year before I could even think about mushrooms again but leeks are the one food that literally makes me queasy, even to this day. Well, even to the day before they put these creamy leeks under the lamb. They were ahhhhhhmazing. This meal makes you add ridiculous amounts of extra letters. I now know that I want to reintroduce leeks into my diet again, and it's all thanks to Second Empire. I asked how they prepared them so I could make them at home, but I think the wine pairings erased that part of my memory.<br />
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Sad face that I couldn't be a member of the clean plate club. You'd be surprised to find out that sometimes I literally have to stop eating.<br />
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Fifth Course- <em>Empire Chocolate Souffle. Paired with Recchia Recioto Valpolicella-Valpantena '08.</em><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078318313/" title="10314676_10202808818996027_6223886880977153589_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10314676_10202808818996027_6223886880977153589_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5138/14078318313_4cb0c194f2_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Will you believe me if I try to tell you I don't really like sweets? You shouldn't anymore...they're growing on me, both in the literal and figurative senses. I would never <em>choose</em> to order it but if someone plops down a chocolate souffle in front of me at Second Empire, you can be damn sure I'm going to eat it. And I'm glad I was able to enjoy a couple of bites before my body threatened to revolt. Crap, I'm hungry for chocolate souffle right now. I keep having to take snack breaks just writing this post. I'm going to be five pounds heavier by the end.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058283175/" title="10262071_10202808854556916_9067838811272233050_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10262071_10202808854556916_9067838811272233050_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7209/14058283175_bcc3c589b1_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Definitely the priciest place we ate but worth every single penny. Try the Chef's Table if you want to get up in everybody's business. Don't eat all day in preparation so you can clean your plate. Or take some prednisone before you go. <br />
<br />
<strong>Friday, April 25</strong><br />
Breakfast: <a href="http://www.bigedscitymarket.com/" target="_blank">Big Ed's City Market Restaurant</a> <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055076351/" title="1794774_10202811339779045_5832491689516440809_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1794774_10202811339779045_5832491689516440809_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2930/14055076351_f739a54f63_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Neither of us ordered the brains or the unreasonably large hot cakes that they challenge you to finish in 45 minutes. I could picture Matt trying to take that challenge if we didn't have lunch plans that day. Instead, he had a western omelet with a side of grits with jelly.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058273635/" title="IMG_20140428_214415 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_20140428_214415" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2922/14058273635_8dfa513c40_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
I was surprised that he ordered an omelet because he swears he doesn't like them, but apparently Matt was inspired by my omelet earlier in the week. Big Ed must have made it good, because he says he would order another one if given the opportunity. Yay, eggs! The most diverse ingredient on the planet. Maybe the next food vacation will be a week of eggs and beer. Who's with me?<br />
<br />
I got a biscuit with fried chicken, eggs, and cheddar. That poor chicken had it coming from both directions.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035142096/" title="10155704_10202811430661317_1871567106569475093_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10155704_10202811430661317_1871567106569475093_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7381/14035142096_911b54dbde_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Yeah, it was as good as it looks, if not better. They sure know how to make a biscuit there. I have a feeling Ed must be <em>really</em> big with all this good food. Skinny Ed's City Market would be depressing. They'd probably serve kale salad with quinoa and millet cakes or something stupid like that.<br />
<br />
Go here. Eat a biscuit. Thank me later.<br />
<br />
Lunch: <a href="http://www.18seaboard.com/" target="_blank">18 Seaboard</a>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078317943/" title="10246774_10202812547969249_3731235035920554356_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10246774_10202812547969249_3731235035920554356_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5104/14078317943_88dd03783e_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
I had been to 18 Seaboard once before for dinner with a friend, and ordered the "Cracklin' Pork Shank" which comes served over spinach, blue cheese grits, and is topped with an apple-onion compote. This meal was so delicious that years later, I wanted to come try their lunch. I mean, it would have to be fabulous, right?<br />
<br />
Matt ordered a romaine wedge with bacon, blue cheese, and roasted tomato.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035141896/" title="10151132_10202812603410635_836720538555165652_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10151132_10202812603410635_836720538555165652_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5297/14035141896_b6f97da65c_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
I've never ordered a wedge salad before because I have no idea how one actually washes a wedge of lettuce. The idea has always seemed questionable to me. I tried this, though, and their blue cheese dressing is very good. The tomato was ehh. Didn't add anything to the plate except a splash of color. It's not like you can really cut a dried tomato with a dinner knife with any sort of ease. The bacon was a better addition once I had crumbled it over the part of the salad I was trying. <br />
<br />
I tried the she crab soup. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055080222/" title="1600978_10202812608930773_5745428227545552825_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1600978_10202812608930773_5745428227545552825_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7413/14055080222_96cc3d5f13_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
It was pretty good. There was a nice sherry flavor to it, which is what I always ask for when I order a creamy crab soup so I can stir it in. It could have used a little crispy bacon on top to add some texture. Just sayin'. Bacon makes everything better. There was a good amount of meat in my bowl so I won't complain.<br />
<br />
The Cracklin' Pork Shank is also on the lunch menu, but I was in the mood for a sandwich. We ordered two to split. The first was chicken salad with roasted poblanos, pickled grapes, and pumpkin seeds.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055076031/" title="10256800_10202812792215355_3751416854570573260_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10256800_10202812792215355_3751416854570573260_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2897/14055076031_c9c67cac80_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Don't order this unless you like really plain food. With the ingredients listed on the menu, I thought it was going to be more exciting than it was. Not bad, but definitely a snoozer. Unless you tried really hard to find a pickled grape and eat it by itself, you couldn't taste it, just like the poblanos and pumpkin seeds. I found the sandwich so dry that I was tempted to ask for some more mayonnaise to slather on it.<br />
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The other sandwich we split was a burger with fried green tomato, jowl bacon, and a roasted tomato on a brioche bun.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055075901/" title="10172769_10202812808615765_7232904346589868223_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10172769_10202812808615765_7232904346589868223_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2919/14055075901_013d20030e_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
I want to give them the benefit of the doubt and say that maybe whoever was on the sandwich station in the back was hungover or maybe got dumped by their girlfriend or found out that the car they just bought off of Craigslist was flooded. Maybe they are capable of making better sandwiches when all their stars are aligned. However, today was not the day. The burger was overdone to the point that it left a scorched taste in your mouth. The bun was pale and flavorless, which is hard to do with a dough that is so rich with egg and butter. I'm not sure why these "five-hour roasted tomatoes" are such a big deal on this menu, as it didn't really do much for the burger. Unless it tastes better when the burger isn't burned. It doesn't come with sauce on the burger but you can request it, so the part of the picture that is 25% full of ramekins is now explained for you. <br />
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It wasn't all bad. The homemade chips with the blue cheese dressing saved that meal. Those are really good. <br />
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I felt bad when the waiter came and asked how awesome the food was. I just smiled and didn't say anything. A better person would have told the truth, but I was not that person at that moment. I was still full from the days of nonstop eating (and also full of beer from the tasting room we popped into before lunch), and I just didn't want someone trying to bring me out a new plate of food that I couldn't possibly eat more than two bites of. We didn't have a refrigerator in our hotel room so any leftovers would have been wasted. Food waste makes me really sad. There are starving people in this world, but I am not one of them.<br />
<br />
This came out at the end.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035141606/" title="10169320_10202812816935973_3624331344404309577_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10169320_10202812816935973_3624331344404309577_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2926/14035141606_f8ff837d44_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
I feel like a total bitch for even telling the truth about this thoughtful plate at the conclusion of our meal, but I think whoever was manning the sandwich station was also on the dessert station. But very pretty presentation! <br />
<br />
So. The server was really nice and enthusiastic. The food was incredibly disappointing. I would say this: don't go here for lunch. Go at dinner time. If you are forced to eat here for lunch, try the pork shank. Unless the sandwich station guy is plating those, too. The good news is that there is a bottle shop next door you can drown your sorrows in.<br />
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Dinner: <a href="http://www.heatseekershrimp.com/" target="_blank">Five Star</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078317353/" title="10171074_10202815844251654_3360462707178036619_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10171074_10202815844251654_3360462707178036619_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7457/14078317353_cf3c12eb82_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I hadn't been to Five Star in at least ten years, so I was excited to come back. They serve food until midnight and the place turns into a dance club. It's not as packed as it used to be since downtown has entered its Renaissance, but it's still pretty awesome.<br />
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I started with some roasted duck steamed buns. And sake. There was a lot of sake flowing.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055075681/" title="1422529_10202815838491510_7518881527557132063_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1422529_10202815838491510_7518881527557132063_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2932/14055075681_f99f58535f_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Holy wow. WHATTTT. This picture is making me hungry just looking at it. I have run out of adjectives in this post. These were the awesomest. Sweet, crispy, chewy, yummy. Dear god, I'll be right back. Have to take another snack break.<br />
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Matt ordered some scallion pancakes.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035141546/" title="10308098_10202815843451634_1723501444572740816_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10308098_10202815843451634_1723501444572740816_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7402/14035141546_f2c6e82027_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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He really liked them, but I thought the insides were a touch doughy as if they could have used an extra minute on the grill. The scallion sauce they were served with was really great, though. I probably could have take a shot of that in between bottles of sake.<br />
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Matt got the Thai Peanut Noodles with Shrimp.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035141176/" title="10277907_10202815858372007_7288779927712496248_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10277907_10202815858372007_7288779927712496248_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2936/14035141176_5d391e5234_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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These were really, really good. You should get these. And invite me. The picture is blurry because I ALREADY TOLD YOU, THERE WAS A LOT OF SAKE. Wait, I mean that was the cool Instagram filter I used.<br />
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I got the Crispy Sesame Beef.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055075491/" title="10167981_10202815852211853_739183868686846754_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10167981_10202815852211853_739183868686846754_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5343/14055075491_34325d78c4_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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That is so much beef. I am so sad I didn't have a refrigerator to take this back to. The beef is seriously crispy with that sweet sauce you know from Sesame Chicken dishes, but not cloying or gloppy. It's so good that you won't mind picking sesame seeds out of your teeth for days.<br />
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Come here late at night if you like cold sake, loud music, and extremely awesome food. Bring 75 cents if you don't know how to use chopsticks because they charge for forks. <br />
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<strong>Saturday, April 26</strong><br />
Brunch: <a href="http://www.irregardless.com/" target="_blank">Irregardless Cafe</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058730094/" title="1422582_10202818219791041_3433301654113205109_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1422582_10202818219791041_3433301654113205109_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5539/14058730094_2a9ed5689b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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As soon as we sat down, we were given fresh squeezed orange juice (heaven!), chive biscuits (heaven!), lemon-poppy bread (heaven!), and pound cake (heaven!). <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055079722/" title="10250222_10202818217350980_7206925191814759777_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10250222_10202818217350980_7206925191814759777_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5245/14055079722_01122c1920_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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Seriously, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOGEyBeoBGM" target="_blank">Belinda Carlisle</a> was singing about Irregardless. <br />
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Matt got Crab Cake Eggs Benedict and fresh fruit.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058730024/" title="10269535_10202818223871143_2941863191302261522_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10269535_10202818223871143_2941863191302261522_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5147/14058730024_e0e446293d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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I didn't try his because he wouldn't share. It was that good. Just kidding- he would have shared but I was too busy with this:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035141086/" title="10168048_10202818231071323_7703314767564557904_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10168048_10202818231071323_7703314767564557904_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5220/14035141086_f79ab11f4b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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The Gravlax Salmon Bagel Sandwich. It was cured in-house and served on the most perfect everything bagel. Bagel sandwiches can be tricky because it's easy to over-toast them or have them be <em>too</em> chewy and hard to bite through, but this one was <strong>the one</strong>. Whoever was working bagel station needs to be given some kind of Congressional Medal of Honor. There was a cream cheese that tasted like it had vegetables and capers in it that I could have eaten by the spoon. Okay, maybe I did. It also came with red onion, lettuce, and tomato. There is no way one person could eat the amount of food that was on this bagel. I don't think the picture does it justice. The homefries? How about heavenfries. <br />
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Go here if you like live music and heavenly food. Next time I come, I'm making sure I have a cooler in my car so I don't have to leave any food to languish uneaten on my plate.<br />
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Lunch: <a href="http://roastgrill.com/" target="_blank">Roast Grill</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058281685/" title="10313625_10202819861712088_112305148382826588_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10313625_10202819861712088_112305148382826588_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7063/14058281685_ca0beb5aef_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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There aren't a lot of options at the Roast Grill. You can get hot dogs, glass bottles of Coke, and some Greek desserts, so it shouldn't take very long to decide what to order. We went for dogs with mustard, chili, and onions and a piece of baklava.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035140906/" title="1620984_10202819873352379_8953229345782828814_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1620984_10202819873352379_8953229345782828814_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7041/14035140906_d41f15e64a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Matt thought this was the best hot dog he's ever eaten. It <em>was</em> a good dog, all charred, just like I like it. I think part of the love was from the charm of the place- just a dozen seats at a counter and little change over the years. Also, did I mention we happened to walk into a Roast Grill wedding?<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035140846/" title="10306261_10202819877432481_3270980530064381623_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10306261_10202819877432481_3270980530064381623_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5219/14035140846_20eae1d541_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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There was a couple who eats there at least once a week and the guy popped the question last year over a hot dog. They decided to get <a href="http://www.newsobserver.com/2014/04/26/3814310/couple-weds-inside-of-the-roast.html" target="_blank">married at the restaurant</a>. The owners were fussing over everything trying to get the restaurant ready for the wedding while we just kind of chilled out and ate hot dogs and observed. "I forgot to buy rice to throw at them! I'll just throw Tootsie Rolls at them instead!"<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055079102/" title="10156111_10202819901633086_4123497487692410641_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10156111_10202819901633086_4123497487692410641_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7430/14055079102_1051e46190_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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We were lucky to arrive when we did, because they didn't let anyone else in afterward in order to get ready. As we were about to pay and leave, Matt thanked them and mentioned we were celebrating our tenth anniversary. The woman who seemed to be managing the place stopped the presses and got behind the counter to whip out a hotdog candle.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055074891/" title="1911856_10202819887992745_2712953382315195256_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1911856_10202819887992745_2712953382315195256_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2917/14055074891_aaa9fedc5c_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Then she blew the roof off the place and sang the most beautiful operatic version of Happy Anniversary to us. Serious stuff. Like Kennedy Center Honors stuff. In front of a much loved hot dog candle. And then made us promise to come eat hot dogs at Roast Grill each future anniversary.<br />
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Everyone should go to the Roast Grill because of the hot dogs, but more for the people behind the counter. Also, don't ask for ketchup, because they don't have any.<br />
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Post-lunch sips: <a href="http://www.shoplocalraleigh.org/care-2/brewgaloo/" target="_blank">Brewgaloo</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14005168047/" title="10270469_10202820272722363_2108227391991465072_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10270469_10202820272722363_2108227391991465072_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7409/14005168047_d246805e40_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
</div>
<br />
A friend of ours had some VIP tickets to Brewgaloo that he gave us, so of course we were going to use them because A) BEER and B) the event was right in front of our hotel so I could go inside and avoid the port-a-potties and C) BEER. <br />
<br />
In the VIP section, they had some beer and food pairings. So duh, of course I was there. This one is a Deep River Brewing/Trophy collaboration called Carpetbagger. It's a Double IPA, 9.7%. I did not know this at the time I was drinking it. I will get back to that in a bit. It was paired with a sweet potato curry, and it was delicious. Guess who made the curry? 18 Seaboard. So that made me a little happy inside that I wasn't just imagining that someone there could cook. It was a small redemption for previous day's lunch.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055074661/" title="10153651_10202820033676387_6251198209201352409_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10153651_10202820033676387_6251198209201352409_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2937/14055074661_2fa8346c5d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
</div>
<br />
Then I ventured out to the booths on the street and found these:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058729524/" title="10172664_10202820261602085_2978370181760624259_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10172664_10202820261602085_2978370181760624259_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7181/14058729524_b977b00d05_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
</div>
<br />
They were beer caramels made by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/GerDan-Chocolates/179635858802548" target="_blank">GerDan</a>. They were amazing. You should look them up and get some. The end of the school year is coming up. You think your teacher wants another World's Best Teacher coffee mug? <br />
<br />
But then I was like, I should go back into the VIP area and see if there's any more food. Because food. The next pairing was the Habanero Saison by Aviator along with a BBQ eggroll and a mango meatball.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078316583/" title="10001443_10202821998445505_3010131105557195947_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10001443_10202821998445505_3010131105557195947_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2928/14078316583_c409ebcc5d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I can't remember who made the eggroll or if it was good. I don't think it was amazing or else I would have vividly remembered it. The meatballs came from <a href="http://www.oakcitymeatball.com/" target="_blank">Oak City Meatball Shoppe</a> and they were really great. Especially with the extra spicy beer. Which, had I not already had such a good thing going, probably would have been too hot to drink completely sober.<br />
<br />
But yeah, beer. So back to that Carpetbagger. We had twelve tokens between the two of us, and everyone at the beer tents were filling up full pints of beer for just one token. Which I thought was a lot of beer, well I <em>knew</em> it was a lot of beer, but I didn't <em>care</em> that it was a lot of beer. (We would find out later that one token should have just given you a 3 oz. pour, but no one else working there seemed to know that.) Anyway, I really, really enjoyed this Carpetbagger. So maybe I had a few of those. And then we would give tokens to people so they would let us cut to the front in the long beer lines. And when we got to the front, we'd just get more beer. All this is to say that for our next meal, I cannot give you any descriptions of what was going on because it was all a <strike>haze</strike> really fun time. I brewgaloo'd pretty hard. You cannot and should not drink double IPAs like they are lite beers. I tried, though. <br />
<br />
Hey, it was hot outside.<br />
<br />
You probably should have gone to this when the people running the booths were giving out a lot more beer than they were supposed to. If it's back again next year, they'll have it all figured out.<br />
<br />
Dinner: <a href="http://www.sonoraleigh.com/" target="_blank">Sono</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078316533/" title="1959345_10202822072527357_7315420239850258097_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1959345_10202822072527357_7315420239850258097_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7302/14078316533_6ec7ba81bd_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
So. Dinner. After the beer fest. <br />
<br />
We sat at the sushi bar and did the Omakase option, which means "I'll leave it to you." So, basically a chef's choice type thing. Which at that point of the day was probably the smartest thing we did, because I'm not even sure I could have read the menu.<br />
<br />
I cannot remember what the chef said each course was, but you can still look at these pictures that somehow I still had the presence of mind to take. <br />
<br />
First course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058729234/" title="10154898_10202822077487481_5025253362225963932_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10154898_10202822077487481_5025253362225963932_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2903/14058729234_c12cf0bfe6_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Second course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055071772/" title="IMG_20140428_213833 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_20140428_213833" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2928/14055071772_8fff4a70e0_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Third course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058280975/" title="10277031_10202822082727612_9221329934987657748_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10277031_10202822082727612_9221329934987657748_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2905/14058280975_8184793eb5_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
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<br />
Fourth course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055078592/" title="1901275_10202822085647685_5044045539863448915_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1901275_10202822085647685_5044045539863448915_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2919/14055078592_1beabcd000_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
</div>
<br />
Fifth course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055078532/" title="10277880_10202822088007744_3568297979846537757_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10277880_10202822088007744_3568297979846537757_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5050/14055078532_af3052ee1d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Sixth course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055074221/" title="1908271_10202822091327827_4611807878275830769_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1908271_10202822091327827_4611807878275830769_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7316/14055074221_12d1fa6571_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Seventh course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055074241/" title="10155142_10202822093207874_7249818206970932296_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10155142_10202822093207874_7249818206970932296_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2921/14055074241_9c02bcc742_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Eighth course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055078352/" title="1898059_10202822095087921_4824261347731063454_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1898059_10202822095087921_4824261347731063454_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7388/14055078352_cc956e1f06_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Ninth course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035139786/" title="10259761_10202822097247975_8921597553338475237_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10259761_10202822097247975_8921597553338475237_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7210/14035139786_2006e01e30_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Tenth course:<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055078212/" title="10308568_10202822099128022_2025435566534323164_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10308568_10202822099128022_2025435566534323164_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5034/14055078212_1699518a1a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
The last thing was a dessert, if memory serves me right. Which we've already established it probably doesn't. It was maybe something eggy wrapped around some rice? I don't know. We cleaned all the plates, though. Because it was incredible. That, I do remember. Matt said it was the best sushi he's ever had. <br />
<br />
Come here and try the Omakase option because trying to read a sushi menu when you're hungry is torture. The chefs know what they're doing. <br />
<br />
<strong>Sunday, April 27</strong><br />
Brunch: <a href="http://oakwoodcaferaleigh.com/" target="_blank">Oakwood Cafe</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035139666/" title="10312883_10202824719993542_3841915667767566284_n (1) by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10312883_10202824719993542_3841915667767566284_n (1)" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7367/14035139666_cfa24bedec_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Matt ordered a sausage, egg, and cheese biscuit and homefries. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035139326/" title="10153663_10202824725393677_776232623401720749_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10153663_10202824725393677_776232623401720749_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7346/14035139326_2bda97c55a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
He had one earlier in the week, but I tried a bite or two and this biscuit kicked the other biscuit's ass. And the other biscuit was really good! I don't know what they do to their sausage, but it was all kinds of amazing. The homefries were equally amazing. <br />
<br />
I got a Cuban sandwich and sweet plantains.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055073861/" title="10298734_10202824731273824_5114796154141183331_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10298734_10202824731273824_5114796154141183331_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2920/14055073861_b55ec4d058_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Yes. This was so very, very good. It's hard to find a good Cuban sandwich around here but this is one of them. The plantains were also reallllllllly great. Sorry guys, I'm running out of ways to describe how delectable all this food was.<br />
<br />
You should totally come here even if you think Cuban or Argentinean food isn't your thing. There is lots of great stuff on the menu, even for picky people. They have a really good, peppery hot sauce that you should probably just slather all over your plate because it seems to go well with everything. This also might be a good place to go if you maybe had a moderate amount of high-octane beer the night before. Just sayin'.<br />
<br />
Brunch #2: <span id="goog_143382576"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/">Plates<span id="goog_143382577"></span></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058728444/" title="10177312_10202825584135145_2617268885278622795_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10177312_10202825584135145_2617268885278622795_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7212/14058728444_2e875b9f55_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I know, I know. But we spaced the brunchiness out like breakfast and lunch, so stop with your judging. We started with a Bloody Mary, Sangria, and banana bread.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14078315663/" title="1947928_10202825594175396_1990693973789796587_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1947928_10202825594175396_1990693973789796587_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7453/14078315663_fac4aef9af_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
The banana bread was great, with a tart lemon drizzle on top that was a really nice contrast to the sweet cake. I ordered my Bloody Mary with the house mix but probably wouldn't do that again. I didn't really taste the tomato, but there was a lot of carrot and red bell pepper flavor going on. Which is not to say it didn't taste good, but it was thick and had the flavor of a vodka sauce. It would have been better served hot over pasta than with booze over ice.<br />
<br />
Matt had the vegetarian quiche and a salad.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035139226/" title="10153667_10202825740579056_2201311759216204869_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10153667_10202825740579056_2201311759216204869_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2911/14035139226_ff8c4be66a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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It was a very good quiche, but you really have to like cheese because there was a lot of it in there. But maybe you didn't want to poop today anyway.<br />
<br />
I ordered a hash with sweet potatoes, curried cauliflower, edamame, Brussels sprouts, fried eggs, and tomato jam.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058728044/" title="10247467_10202825752739360_8004243982753173267_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10247467_10202825752739360_8004243982753173267_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5220/14058728044_c0fecb4f17_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Although this sounds really exciting, it wasn't something I'd come back for. The sweet potatoes could have been more tender, as well as the Brussels sprouts. I liked the tomato jam and the cauliflower a lot. The eggs made me sad, though, because someone cooked all the runny out of the yolks. Runny yolk is like nature's dressing. That would have made the salad much better because whatever it was dressed with wasn't very exciting.<br />
<br />
For dessert, we got the sticky toffee pudding.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058279885/" title="10247411_10202825882342600_8917804707577076014_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10247411_10202825882342600_8917804707577076014_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5535/14058279885_5d066143ec_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Wowza. Ok, it seems to me that what Plates excels at (at least during brunch) is the sweets. This was great. And I think it's official that this trip has given me a sweet tooth.<br />
<br />
While I wasn't blown away by the entrees, I would definitely go back and try the dinner menu. The atmosphere in this place is really cool and it's what would bring me back, so try going when it's nice outside because the front of the restaurant will be open. But if the dinner isn't spectacular, I would still go back for the sweet stuff, and maybe a Bloody Mary with the store-bought mix.<br />
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Dinner: <a href="http://bukuraleigh.com/buku/" target="_blank">buku</a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055073201/" title="10325424_10202828034596405_7183626440742437497_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10325424_10202828034596405_7183626440742437497_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7181/14055073201_c7ca2b9631_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Can you believe we weren't waddling at this point?<br />
<br />
We started out with some naan to get us started while we narrowed down the hundred things we wanted to try on the menu.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058279715/" title="10312554_10202827952114343_4764429585577286360_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10312554_10202827952114343_4764429585577286360_n" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5531/14058279715_ed552d9d12_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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The naan was really good, but it wasn't like any naan I've ever had at an Indian restaurant. Although it was softer and fluffier and basically was focaccia, it was delicious nonetheless. <br />
<br />
Next we ordered Burmese Deviled Eggs.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14005658319/" title="Burmese deviled eggs by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Burmese deviled eggs" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7459/14005658319_ae58b82735_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
</div>
<br />
These suckers were HOT. We make a lot of deviled eggs around here so I'm kind of a deviled egg snob. The egg whites were kind of rubbery but the filling was good. But dang, that chile on top burned and burned and burned my throat on the way down. Which I kind of liked in a masochistic way. <br />
<br />
Next up was the Massaman Hot Pot which was a soup of zucchini, squash, cauliflower, mushrooms, green beans, massaman curry, coconut, and cilantro.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055073101/" title="10155481_10202828131278822_8868667154193907976_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10155481_10202828131278822_8868667154193907976_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2938/14055073101_e02c225b0d_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
</div>
<br />
Everything about this was delicious. I'm sure it had like a zillion calories because all the best foods do. Did you know that kale is low in calories? The soup came out in the biggest of bowls and even though Matt and I each only had one ladle-full, there were still several servings leftover. This would have been a very filling dinner if we had just ordered the hot pot alone. But you know we weren't going to do that.<br />
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The Baja Crab Flautas have cilantro, pickled serrano, pineapple, and mango-habanero crema. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055072931/" title="10155295_10202828132718858_4168594943484457862_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10155295_10202828132718858_4168594943484457862_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7197/14055072931_5470c77227_m.jpg" width="240" /></a>
</div>
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These were good but the sauce they came with pushed the flautas over the top. But it's hard to go wrong with deep-fried and dips.<br />
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The next thing that came out was my favorite, Cochinita Arepa.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14055077272/" title="1609696_10202828130038791_6518341029303237156_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="1609696_10202828130038791_6518341029303237156_n" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7071/14055077272_3b3cd2df3c_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
This was a soft corn cake topped with pulled pork, guacamole, pickled red onions, and queso fresco. This was the dish that made you moan a little. Okay, a lot. A whole, whole lot. Go there and get this.<br />
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It was going to be hard for the pierogies to top that. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058727754/" title="10271566_10202828134438901_3830393642192584975_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10271566_10202828134438901_3830393642192584975_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2915/14058727754_9361d4d6a8_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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That's not to say they weren't delicious, though. They were filled with chicken, butternut squash, and muenster, then topped with brown butter and almonds. I think the brown butter might have had a splash of balsamic in it because there was a really nice acidity in there that I've never been able to achieve by just browning butter. These actually heated up nicely the next day and I thought they were even better.<br />
<br />
Some Pretty Woman champagne came out while we waited for dessert.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035138476/" title="10174838_10202828142359099_3656367133814132430_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10174838_10202828142359099_3656367133814132430_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2898/14035138476_8757e2801a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Because of that alarmingly fast-growing sweet tooth and all.<br />
<br />
Chocolate, vanilla, and ginger creme brulee.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14035138356/" title="10171621_10202828313243371_4507164605172680329_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10171621_10202828313243371_4507164605172680329_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2940/14035138356_0d7776105a_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I loved the vanilla and ginger. They were phenomenal. The chocolate was good but it was a little too rich for me. Matt loved them all. I could tell, because by the time he was done with them, they looked like they had already been through the dishwasher.<br />
<br />
I was so happy that we actually got to take so many to-go boxes home from this meal since we were heading back to our house and my lovely refrigerator. Which I had sorely missed all week when plates of half-eaten food were being taken away.<br />
<br />
This is an awesome place to go if you can't figure out just what kind of food you want to order. Just take a group of people and order like a hundred small plates. Or three. Whatever is in your budget. <br />
<br />
Here's to being fat and happy.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14058733514/" title="10264697_10202792760394572_4570619534399576180_n by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="10264697_10202792760394572_4570619534399576180_n" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2924/14058733514_767140c8bc_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
So, if you had to press me for my <em>favorites</em>, I guess I'd list them as this:<br />
<br />
Best breakfast/brunch- <strong>Irregardless Cafe</strong><br />
Best lunch- <strong>Beasley's Chicken + Honey</strong><br />
Best dinner- <strong>Second Empire</strong>*<br />
<br />
*Of course, the Chef's Table at Second Empire was always going to win. But let's face it, it's crazy pricey. If we hadn't had that meal, <strong>Stanbury</strong> would have won. No question. Go there. GO THERE.<br />
<br />
I don't want you to think that all we did was eat. That was what we did a lot, but there was also a ton of fun stuff to do. We both enjoy walking so I'm sure we logged lots of miles just traipsing through the city. If you don't have to drive anywhere, you may find yourself in many-a-bar. That's cool. It's your vacation. Don't worry, I didn't take pics of every place we drank at. I didn't want you to think I had a problem.<br />
<br />
There are several museums downtown. The <a href="http://www.raleighnc.gov/parks/content/PRecRecreation/Articles/HRMCityMuseum.html" target="_blank">City of Raleigh Museum</a> in the Briggs Hardware Building is pretty interesting if you want to finally discover who all those streets and buildings are named after.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006175940/" title="City of Raleigh Museum by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="City of Raleigh Museum" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7335/14006175940_73a30b290b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I found mention of an Utley, who is an ancestor on my dad's side. I guess that's less interesting for you than for me.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006163928/" title="The Utley's are on my dad's side... by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="The Utley's are on my dad's side..." height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2901/14006163928_6b4e3c029c_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Oh, and I also finally found <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Game_of_graces" target="_blank">Game of Graces</a> in the gift shop. We were first introduced to it last year in the mountains and I had never been able to locate a set. It's basically like Game of Thrones but with less incest and more pretty ribbon-covered rings.<br />
<br />
There's a few tasting rooms/bottle shops around that we visited. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14212959973/" title="Post-lunch sips by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Post-lunch sips" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7345/14212959973_fde305de34_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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If only we had a fridge in our room! Next time, we bring a cooler. <br />
<br />
We went to see <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Fg5iWmQjwk" target="_blank">The Grand Budapest Hotel</a> at the <a href="http://www.therialto.com/joomla/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=207" target="_blank">Rialto</a>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006160549/" title="At the Rialto, going to see Grand Budapest Hotel. With popcorn. And beer. by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="At the Rialto, going to see Grand Budapest Hotel. With popcorn. And beer." height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5538/14006160549_edd3cd20c8_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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I love the Rialto and whatever crazy movie they are showing. They have comfy seats, the world's best popcorn, and beer. Good beer.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006216337/" title="It's been too long since we've been here. My favoritest movie theater. by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="It's been too long since we've been here. My favoritest movie theater." height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2900/14006216337_86581ee699_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can get a couple's massage at <a href="http://www.reviveraleigh.com/" target="_blank">Revive</a>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14189545651/" title="Couples massage. Now I'm all loosey-goosey. by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Couples massage. Now I'm all loosey-goosey." height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7335/14189545651_ba016a0b23_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can visit any number of breweries.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006159559/" title="Early bird nightcap by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Early bird nightcap" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7402/14006159559_e7efba93ba_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can walk to the Governor's mansion.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14190285162/" title="Gov's mansion by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Gov's mansion" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7393/14190285162_a5320622f2_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can visit the <a href="http://www.raleighconvention.com/cree-shimmer-wall" target="_blank">Shimmer Wall</a>.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14189532181/" title="The shimmer wall is my favorite part of Raleigh. by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="The shimmer wall is my favorite part of Raleigh." height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7431/14189532181_355594ebcd_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can walk through a park.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006220057/" title="Moore Square by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Moore Square" height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7401/14006220057_0416fcc624_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can sign up for a Segway tour of Historic Oakwood and have it canceled because there is a beer fest going. But you won't let that stop you from just walking over there yourself.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006193810/" title="Perfect day for a lazy walk by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Perfect day for a lazy walk" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5530/14006193810_ed654baa40_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can visit the cemetery.<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14192786224/" title="Oakwood Cemetery by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Oakwood Cemetery" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2934/14192786224_75af8eabcb_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can visit open houses just so you can see what these Historic Oakwood properties look like on the inside. And there, a realtor may tell you it's a great place to live because you can go to the cemetery and have a picnic.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14189556891/" title="upload by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="upload" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5191/14189556891_a782b33511_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
(True story.)<br />
<br />
You can find adorable little corner stores that sell good food and glass bottles of Nehi.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14169703636/" title="Quick stop at the Quality Grocery by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Quick stop at the Quality Grocery" height="240" src="https://farm6.staticflickr.com/5571/14169703636_b20976af6b_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can see a show at Charlie <a href="http://www.goodnightscomedy.com/" target="_blank">Goodnight's</a>. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14192783854/" title="Charlie Goodnights! Haven't been here since Mitch Hedburg was alive. by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Charlie Goodnights! Haven't been here since Mitch Hedburg was alive." height="240" src="https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7440/14192783854_a97eb2f59f_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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(We saw <a href="http://cortmccown.com/" target="_blank">Cort McCown</a> and <a href="http://www.steverannazzisi.com/" target="_blank">Steve Rannazzisi</a>.)<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14192784724/" title="Shiva! Teen wolf guy! by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Shiva! Teen wolf guy!" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2921/14192784724_2a814570b4_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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You could go hear live music (we did!). You could go see live theater (we didn't). You could go relax in the hot tub (we did!). You could do many a things.<br />
<br />
But you must go by the D.H. Hill Library at NC State and pick up some Howling Cow ice cream from the <a href="http://fbns.ncsu.edu/dairy/howlingcow/howtobuy.html" target="_blank">Creamery</a> for your kids on the way home so they forget that you disappeared for a while.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14006206460/" title="And we're such awesome parents that were getting each kid a pint of NC State ice cream. They're welcome. by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="And we're such awesome parents that were getting each kid a pint of NC State ice cream. They're welcome." height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2938/14006206460_1e57499358_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Because you're the best parents ever!<br />
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<a href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/14192835595/" title="Yay! A week of great weather! by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="Yay! A week of great weather!" height="240" src="https://farm3.staticflickr.com/2934/14192835595_7d2313f54e_m.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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This local vacation was brought to you by ten years of unused American Express points.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-64090610185721572402014-04-01T22:47:00.000-04:002014-04-03T22:10:36.089-04:00The Promised Bacon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Yo! You know what you need in your life? MO' BACON. Mo' bacon is mo' better. Vegetarian? You could use some more quiche up in that mouth. Real men, real women, real children...they all eat quiche. Not those fake men. They eat plastic corn on the cob. Not the fake women, though, because they're dieting.</div>
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I actually woke up the other morning to Natalie and Daniel pounding on the kitchen counter while chanting "Quiche! Quiche! Quiche!" As if I had a quiche hot and ready to pull out of my butt for them. (Like how my butt is basically a breakfast Little Caesar's in that scenario?) Their cries were eventually drowned out by Eve, who ran around sans pants while screaming, "Doctor, doctor! I need a new butt. My old one has a crack in it!"<br />
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HOW CAN YOU STAND IT NOT TO LIVE HERE WITH ME?</div>
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Anyway, less butts, more bacon. I am fundraising for another <a href="http://www.ultimatehike.org/" target="_blank">Ultimate Hike</a>, but this time I have to fundraise twice as ultimate because I told Matt he is doing it with me. You just tell someone something enough times and eventually they'll assume they agreed to it. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bQnxlHZsjY" target="_blank"><em>So let it be written, so let it be done</em>.</a> Hells yeah, Rameses. Matt is going to rock it!<br />
<br />
Also, I have to say that <em>The Ten Commandments</em> is one of my favorite movies, which I have a feeling that many people will assume because of the date of this writing that I am pulling their leg. But no, that movie is amazing. For days, my inner-voice changes from a prepubescent teen to Charlton Heston and I feel glorious and righteous and magnificent...I am basically living, breathing, and farting in Technicolor. I remember watching it on ABC as a kid every Easter, and now that I think about it, I can't believe I sat still long enough to watch a four-hour epic that didn't have Papa Smurf in it. But I guess Moses kind of has that Papa Smurf vibe toward the end when he's all white bearded and old, in his red Levite robe, before he's like, dang! If only I hadn't banged on that rock...the Promised Land is RIGHT THERE! I can literally see it from here!!<br />
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But at least Moses could take comfort in the fact that he wasn't missing any bacon over there, all by his lonesome. Which brings me back to brunch. You should totally host a brunch at your house for your friends or family. Or just for yourself. You have my permission to eat brunch with yourself. You are good company. You deserve it. You could even eat brunch for breakfast. I won't judge!<br />
<br />
I present to you, <em>Let's Do Brunch! Vol. 1 of Non-Charleston Receipts.</em> <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01cgtqNjS_YpzGRi7YrzDHgUOIQ9uVzmVkQ2oTrI2AU_79o8ESNvX0tcCH_nonvzhxELjsCqvIoomGNdAH4zK2jl-mD9sFOHfnxTNNL8enTZxITm5Lys9oUtfsy6e18c1EN9gLOVe4QM/s1600/1922384_10202650648481863_518683373_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi01cgtqNjS_YpzGRi7YrzDHgUOIQ9uVzmVkQ2oTrI2AU_79o8ESNvX0tcCH_nonvzhxELjsCqvIoomGNdAH4zK2jl-mD9sFOHfnxTNNL8enTZxITm5Lys9oUtfsy6e18c1EN9gLOVe4QM/s1600/1922384_10202650648481863_518683373_n.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></div>
<br />
None of these recipes were collected by the <a href="http://cookingwiththejuniorleague.wordpress.com/2009/03/10/charleston-receipts-selected-recipes/" target="_blank">Junior League of Charleston</a>. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPk5NAAzWEeP9uE2UWbk5jmvUJ6L9yez0qiYT9oPfEHEHEbEVyheSy9MCUJss6E0D8DZIQ0-92WUclejVK3CagVahVNGaE9w1aonZNkOSNDab7opFmWIX-J0r65SSPoENMhyphenhyphenQAdgZI3Q/s1600/1970776_10202650649481888_479685353_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmPk5NAAzWEeP9uE2UWbk5jmvUJ6L9yez0qiYT9oPfEHEHEbEVyheSy9MCUJss6E0D8DZIQ0-92WUclejVK3CagVahVNGaE9w1aonZNkOSNDab7opFmWIX-J0r65SSPoENMhyphenhyphenQAdgZI3Q/s1600/1970776_10202650649481888_479685353_n.jpg" height="320" width="208" /></a></div>
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All of them are from me to you with love and bacon grease.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAnIh8u0hzsmi9VgGNISCouQM9lHaTrxF58psD1EktzH3pUunMLoiV_RaKYRDq5xYcxIzzmSXWdIGu9TbcN9i6fDnCUfWpAB2mskA2dbUZaAs_4h9NGSYT8eb7FwDU6zXjKW0NolC8Os/s1600/10171912_10202650650281908_820739795_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAnIh8u0hzsmi9VgGNISCouQM9lHaTrxF58psD1EktzH3pUunMLoiV_RaKYRDq5xYcxIzzmSXWdIGu9TbcN9i6fDnCUfWpAB2mskA2dbUZaAs_4h9NGSYT8eb7FwDU6zXjKW0NolC8Os/s1600/10171912_10202650650281908_820739795_n.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></div>
<br />
It's the super-cutest little brunch cookbook that you'll ever own, and it even fits in your purse so you don't have to worry about making one of those silly shopping lists ahead of time. What are those ladies trying to prove, anyway?<br />
<br />
Not that men don't cook or go shopping. They absolutely do and they should absolutely buy this book. This is America. But it could also be Canada if anyone there wants to order one.<br />
<br />
$12 for this piece of future history. All proceeds will go to help the bald kids. If you don't like bacon and you don't like bald kids then NO PROMISED LAND FOR YOU.<br />
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Drop me a line to <a href="mailto:teameve@rocketmail.com">teameve@rocketmail.com</a> and let me know how many dozens you'd like to order.<br />
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MRS. MATTHEW B. GRIFFITH (Christy Saunders)</div>
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Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-5736875218138641162014-03-30T01:37:00.001-04:002014-03-30T12:07:23.748-04:00What's up?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Nothing much here. I've been watching a lot of Netflix. Like, A LOT. That's why I haven't been blogging. It must be showing because someone in my tap class recently asked me if I was pregnant. And it wasn't a man. And it wasn't a joke. And when I told her no, it was just a food baby, she didn't believe me and asked me AGAIN. So I guess I need to either do jumping jacks while I watch Netflix or eat more fiber so I can deliver my food babies before tap class . Once, a few years back, I ate a lot of Fiber One bars staying with some family not knowing the effect that more than one would have on my body and I can assure you that you do not want to eat more than one Fiber One bar per twenty-four hours unless you are well-stocked on toilet paper and want to read the same two issues of <i>Consumer Reports</i> in your aunt's bathroom.<a name='more'></a><br />
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Eve is still going to the hospital every three months and is always looking good. (She takes after me.) In the summer, she had her very last CT scan. Tacos, tacos, everywhere/and all the bills did shrink/tacos, tacos, everywhere/not a beer to drink. </div>
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She went back in the fall, and all systems were still GO. Of course, there were a few victory tacos after that.<br />
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And the winter was all good, too. Mo' tacos. Mo' taco sauce. I always end up with fistfuls of packets in my coat pockets on account of all the victory tacos. I'm totally going to be that woman who is going to get supremely lost on a hike one day because I was daydreaming about what I was going to order at Taco Bell post-hike, but is found three days later in the woods having survived on leaves doused in taco sauce. </div>
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We took a trip to the mountains of Georgia to visit my dad's family around Eve's birthday. Everyone was so excited for me to come and meet my second-cousin in real life because they were all convinced we look so much alike. Like Patty Duke shenanigans would definitely occur. WE BOTH HAVE CURLY HAIR! I know this because we have been Facebook friends and sometimes I would see a picture of her in my newsfeed and for a nanosecond think someone tagged a really good picture of me but then realized, oh wait, this isn't me. I'm still not photogenic, mostly due to my resting bitch face which makes it seem like I am always smelling something bad when a camera is taking pictures and I'm not paying attention. I'm just trying to figure out who farted.<br />
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You can see that my cousin Emily is the one who is naturally not scowling because she enjoys having meaningful conversations with children. I'm just like, who at this table needs ketchup? You have three seconds to tell me before I go back to sit in front of my plate of chicken.<br />
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I guess maybe we look a little alike. I mean, she is white, has curly hair, and is pregnant. So we're basically twins. Her son woke up from a nap and came outside where we were all sitting and jumped in my lap and snuggled for the better part of thirty minutes before he realized I wasn't his mother. Eve came out and thought his mother was her mother and then they were all like <i>they laugh alike, they walk alike, at times they even talk alike</i>. That goes out to old people and kids my age who watched Nick at Nite in 1988.<br />
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We were there the day after Eve's birthday, so of course I made a cake since she only had a bowl of frozen yogurt on her actual birthday that was the size of her head. That was actually the <b>smaller</b> sized bowl. <br />
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She had cancer. She gets lots of desserts. <br />
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[Cue the anonymous emails about how artificial food dyes probably definitely caused her cancer. "Did you know that air fresheners have formaldehyde and that's giving us cancer? I know this because I clicked on a link at the bottom of a BuzzFeed quiz called <i>Which Mean Girls Character Are You?</i>"]<br />
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Eve had a Halloween birthday party when we got home because we needed more cake. She loves her costume parties, and this year she was a vampire. Nat was a corpse bride who I assume got too close to the vampire at one point.<br />
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Although she invited her whole class, we still had enough cake leftover for the other kindergarten classes she didn't invite. What can I say? I like 'em big, like my <strike>nachos</strike> food babies. Also, I'm a sucker for kids who hand me drawings of birthday cakes that they want to see come to life. It's only cute if you're under ten. </div>
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Dan dressed in black and said he was a <a href="http://harrypotter.wikia.com/wiki/Dementor" target="_blank">dementor</a>. I like that 90% of their costumes just come from the floor of their closets. One day they'll be gangly teenagers wearing football jerseys and carrying around pillowcases to collect 8-10 handfuls of candy. I'm sure <i>your</i> teenager doesn't do this, though. <br />
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(I wish Daniel would stop making such goofy faces in pictures.)<br />
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I would post a pic of Matt and I at Halloween but I know what's good for a marriage and a picture of him dressed as what he was dressed as would not be something he would go out and buy me a pair of diamond earrings for. Matt has never, ever planned what he is going to be for any costume party in his life until approximately 90 minutes before said party, which would be okay if he got invited 91 minutes in advance. There was the year he burned a perfectly good shirt and said he was struck by lightning. There was the year he put on a suit and wore a name tag that said "I am Robert Palmer." There was the year he tried to cut up our white bed sheets to become a ghost like you'd see on Scooby Doo, except I was like YOU CANNOT CUT UP OUR EXTREMELY HARD-TO-FIND CALIFORNIA QUEEN BED SHEETS. So he instead found a random peach bed sheet and cut eyes in it and went as one of those Pac-Man ghosts. <br />
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Since he had not come up with anything to wear on the day of the Halloween party, the girls and I went to Walmart and started picking up random stuff that may have been rolled back a few times. They got him a Chevrolet t-shirt, a camouflage fleece jacket, an American flag doo-rag, bunny ears with a bowtie and tail, and some face crayons. I do realize that a lot of these items are not costumes for a lot of people. I don't even know what we were going for with this array, but once they put it all in the shopping cart, it was obvious the sum was greater than the parts. I expected the crayons would be used to make bunny whiskers but what ended up coming out of the bedroom that night was a man who had put on his finest sweatpants, all the Americana gear, the tail in the front, the coordinating bowtie (because he's a classy guy), the bunny ears, and, instead of whiskers, a John Waters mustache. Oh, and I almost forgot about these glasses he had in middle school that look like something you'd see on <i>To Catch a Predator</i> which he swears were in style at that point in time but apparently we grew up in two extremely different towns.<br />
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I probably could post a picture because he is in China right now on business and I don't think they allow this part of the internet over there. MATT, IF YOU CAN READ THIS, PLEASE BRING ME BACK SOME PEARLS. He got my mother-in-law a beautiful multi-string pearl necklace a few trips back and I got a hair pin. </div>
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I volunteered at another hike after Halloween on the Foothills trail. It was dark and cold but after dropping the hikers off at the trailhead, we drove along the ridge line and pulled over to look at the stars. Then, the most amazing thing happened: I saw my first shooting star, ever. I had seen them on film but never in real life. And then the really amazing part came when I turned on <i>Africa</i> in my van really loud and a SECOND shooting star shot across the sky. CAN YOU IMAGINE? <i>Africa</i> is my second favorite song of all time, and to hear it standing on the ridge with stars shooting across the sky was like a scene from what I hope is a beautiful biopic that will play at my funeral.<br />
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It was really cold, and it sounds ridiculous to complain about being cold at a hike when you are doing the easy part of not hiking, but when you're not moving much, it's Vanilla Ice cold. So cold that the arthritis in your big toe will flare up. I was wearing long underwear, an undershirt, a long-sleeved shirt, a sweater, a sweatshirt, and a coat. I was underdressed.</div>
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I was getting snotcicles so our firefighter friends let me use one of their flame-retardant balaclavas. It is always a good idea to sport a terrorist mask and then bang on the window of someone in a vehicle who is trying to nap. They will pee themselves. You will high five yourself.<br />
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The hike went great, especially since I didn't have to hike it. I felt wonderful afterward! We were waiting at the finish line for what seemed like a while for the last hikers to come through. There were a lot of people on the trail that day and I do remember a group of teenagers who came off the trail, saw the Ultimate Hike finish line sign, sideways glanced at one another for some odd reason, and hauled ass away. We waited some more. And some more. And then it was so very dark. <br />
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I was ancy and volunteered to put on my headlamp and go in there to see if I could pick up some walkie-talkie action. Did I tell you how so very dark it was? Well, it's one thing to hike in the dark when there are dozens of other people around you with headlamps on. It's a whole 'nother thing to hike in the dark with just one headlamp. It. is. dark. Scary dark. Dark enough that you keep telling knock-knock jokes on the walkie-talkie so you don't run into the Blair Witch. <br />
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Eventually I got to an intersection and saw something very interesting- the sign we had put down a few hours before to let hikers know they needed to make a turn had been moved, indicating that they should just keep hiking straight forever. Now I know why those teenagers were so shifty-looking. They were obviously planning what Redskins jersey they were going to wear when they steal all the candy from the grade-school set. <br />
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Don't worry, we found the hikers. Their hike was just a little bit more ultimater. But you know what is the ultimatest?<br />
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PICKLES!<br />
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I was given a camcorder and I knew I was given it to get some inspirational footage of an Ultimate Hike. But I failed miserably in a very beauteous way.<br />
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When we were leaving to go back to Raleigh, I went to fill up the van at the gas station across the street. Which is also where we purchased the gourmet pickle ingredients. It's a nice gas station and convenience store, not one of those that you fear you're going to walk into a robbery-in-progress. Obviously. Those gas stations do not carry gourmet pickle ingredients.<br />
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Because it is such a nice gas station, I assumed the pumps would work accordingly. As in: insert card, start pump, pump stops, put pump back, do not get covered in gasoline. Something went wrong in this process between the pump stopping and me not getting covered in gasoline, more specifically that when I pulled the stopped pump out of the van, the gasoline started spewing all over me, leaving me smelling like I had just been caught in a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=98AzJT8FlmY" target="_blank">freak gasoline fight accident</a>, after I had checked out of my room with access to a shower. I stunk up the entire first floor of that Holiday Inn Express as I went back into the lobby bathroom to try and scrub off the gas smell with those sad, little hotel soaps that should really be tested to see if they will remove gasoline smell from skin. When I had scrubbed away three layers of skin, I applied the entire miniature bottle of scented lotion that comes with your room, which of course I had stowed in my purse because that is what I do with free lotion in preparation of the zombie apocalypse as those guys have really dry skin. So, for the entire five-hour ride back to Raleigh, I smelled of gasoline and cucumber-melon. It was okay though because I had to drive back in my pajamas since the last of my clean clothes had been sullied by the incident and I feel like you can get away with smelling like petrol and Bath and Body Works trial-sized lotions when it looks like you have completely given up on yourself by wearing pajamas into a Taco Bell.<br />
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Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-25417421318130268042014-01-06T16:24:00.003-05:002014-01-06T16:39:35.175-05:00The first and second time I did bad things in the woods.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
As has been a trend lately, all of this happened several months ago. I was just too traumatized to post about it immediately following the event. This is how I remember hiking through a monsoon in the mountains on my period.</div>
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It all started with me trying to calm down. I probably would have been a bit calmer had I actually trained the way I know I should have trained but, you know, there were like lots of tacos to be had and bachelorette weekends to attend and weddings at which to get sunburned. All of this is poor planning and preparation on my part. I own it so now it's time for me to tell you what happened in the woods.</div>
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Like I was saying, I was trying to calm down because everyone kept telling me that this particular Ultimate Hike, the first "Alumni" hike, meaning that if you had already participated in an Ultimate Hike, you could now sign up to hike 25.1 miles on a different stretch of the Foothills Trail and then hike up an 1,100-foot elevation gain over the last two miles to get to the finish. Which had sounded quite sadistic to me from the very start. I am really, really bad at estimating distances, but that sounds just horrible. In fact, I was at Kings Dominion and as we were taking the elevator up to the top of the Eiffel Tower, I made a comment that I wish the stairs were open to the public because that would be some good training for the hike because it's like REALLY high up there. Then we got to the top and the operator said, "You are now 275 feet in the air." Then I just died a little inside. </div>
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So you can see why I was trying to calm down. Because I had done some lazy half-ass training and just basically eaten lots of tacos. It wasn't looking good for me. At the hotel, I popped open a beer and some Cheetos, but the only Cheetos available were extra-spicy ones, and this just led to heartburn which was NOT CALMING ME DOWN. </div>
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Then I started sniffing soap. Because that's what I do when I get stressed out. I usually do it in private, like in the shower, or at parties when there is soap available and everyone else has had enough to drink that they won't remember I was at the dining table sniffing soap the night before. I was stressed because I wasn't prepared, I was stressed because there was a 100% chance of rain, I was stressed because I would be on a mountain top with metal hiking poles during a thunderstorm, I was stressed because I was on my period, and I was stressed that everyone was telling me everything was going to be okay. </div>
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Everything was not going to be okay. I really can't stand it when people tell you that because they don't what else to say. Friends told me that when Eve had some mysterious lump we had to go get checked out. People are often wrong and it is more appropriate for them to say, "I hear what you are saying and can imagine what you must be feeling. I hope it won't be as bad as you think. Let's go get a taco together." But they don't have to say it quite so eloquently. It could just be a quick <i>That sucks. Wanna get tacos?</i></div>
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We were up so early the next morning that this is what it looked like <b>with</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>the flash:</div>
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You see all that? All that nothingness? That was what I had inside of me. Until I called shotgun in the van and found out that someone had left a Kidz Bop CD in the dash. And it was a <i>good</i> one, not like Kidz Bop 24. I'm pretty sure I was the only one singing along and sniffing soap to Kidz Bop 20 at three in the morning. Everyone else seemed kind of not into it but I was on my period, dammit, and the soap sniffing only gets you so calm. </div>
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After at least one whole listening of Kidz Bop, we were forced to leave the van and head to a boat that would be taking us to the trailhead. There was a full moon, which I believe also stirred up some extra crazy in me so I made sure to bring along the soap. The boat ride across Lake Jocassee lasted about an hour and I would definitely recommend it to anyone who likes dark boat rides at 4 a.m.</div>
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It was so dark that the emergency guys who were with us let us look through the night vision goggles. It instantly made me want to own a pair of night vision goggles and an invisibility cloak. I'd solemnly swear that I'd be up to no good all the live-long day.</div>
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You see that? That's a boat that is taking on water. There are too many people in the front.</div>
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I asked to get my knees taped before we started so midway on the boat ride, it was my turn to move to the back and get fixed up. After I was done and stood up to move back to my seat, I heard, "No, you stay here. We need the weight." </div>
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There is not enough soap in the world.</div>
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I was very sad to leave the boat because someone told me the first thing you do after hitting the trail was to tackle something called "Heart Attack Hill." Nothing ever in the history of the universe has been affectionately named "Heart Attack Hill." It's more like <b>accurately </b>named. I am only smiling because someone said to say cheese and cheese makes me think of nachos and nachos make me happy. I don't know why the rest of them were smiling. I don't like the thought of hills and heart attacks paired together.</div>
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I have this thing where I can't breathe sometimes when I work out so I decided it was time to refill my inhaler prescription. All the cool people puff. All both of us. The rest of them were pretty much in shape.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZu90gFCG-zf4lnB1e8xP-M_35dyNQlCqFax6uSt0rHHYRl4SWYrlXLjuB76umRDdRYSQ_OG4BcfsYajT6yyCJFKvGqk9F7kycoWIyyFjs2kGlG-arMMC7cE8vA8AAKfGUFSaxZVLXoc/s1600/1375315_10201141330587797_1208446057_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZu90gFCG-zf4lnB1e8xP-M_35dyNQlCqFax6uSt0rHHYRl4SWYrlXLjuB76umRDdRYSQ_OG4BcfsYajT6yyCJFKvGqk9F7kycoWIyyFjs2kGlG-arMMC7cE8vA8AAKfGUFSaxZVLXoc/s320/1375315_10201141330587797_1208446057_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Then we were off. Heart Attack Hill was one of those stretches where everyone was quiet. It wasn't until everyone began pausing with their hands on their knees that you knew the reason they were quiet. It was kind of like trying to carry on a conversation while you are in labor but with more sweat and less sedation. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIQi7YdaRuvl4hEmQ4ayLmd5-lC3aDJp4_OtNdjlFQ-OYfxO801AtMkOejXP0FiUiFxcl-6TmGvO0rkbBcbbu26gApyiYYhRydOQIvap5hzuSJQKZMXjEvIzhLtU3UDPJaBRILfwONHE/s1600/1240556_10201342818866940_1899369261_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIQi7YdaRuvl4hEmQ4ayLmd5-lC3aDJp4_OtNdjlFQ-OYfxO801AtMkOejXP0FiUiFxcl-6TmGvO0rkbBcbbu26gApyiYYhRydOQIvap5hzuSJQKZMXjEvIzhLtU3UDPJaBRILfwONHE/s320/1240556_10201342818866940_1899369261_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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In fact, this was a pose that we would assume on and off again in between the times that we were hiking, peeing, and wheezing. Here we are neither hiking or peeing but wheezing and cheesing. We were just happy to be alive. It felt touch and go there for a bit.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxCOvX5ZlRE7ch3qoqNFmjfJ-iV8Awx0bnSozQx8UEmzn-ehEJ-74FZdn9LBcJji9idO0xqHbVVzAAwO-vqU0gQo7FhK0EZJ5bFK19oEow3AYNvuhoxjw7ekZWCcj5dJn3YzZQF3gGWg/s1600/562862_10201141325107660_1151133404_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIxCOvX5ZlRE7ch3qoqNFmjfJ-iV8Awx0bnSozQx8UEmzn-ehEJ-74FZdn9LBcJji9idO0xqHbVVzAAwO-vqU0gQo7FhK0EZJ5bFK19oEow3AYNvuhoxjw7ekZWCcj5dJn3YzZQF3gGWg/s1600/562862_10201141325107660_1151133404_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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There were bridges, which are fine because they usually are flat.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohLJyVZEUdaSMLtNt_zN4arKyMjhGoGwC3vwC4A00rx8pfdeq1PluDqhA6Kevn4qh1CVBZvO4tx_Aik5pQ-6frCjkI9Y3kTjvM3Kd_-Ydka0zA_OMxz_m3JlZ0pzGEk5cVZFZja2ECzI/s1600/551282_10201342832107271_530967361_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgohLJyVZEUdaSMLtNt_zN4arKyMjhGoGwC3vwC4A00rx8pfdeq1PluDqhA6Kevn4qh1CVBZvO4tx_Aik5pQ-6frCjkI9Y3kTjvM3Kd_-Ydka0zA_OMxz_m3JlZ0pzGEk5cVZFZja2ECzI/s1600/551282_10201342832107271_530967361_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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And rushing water, which I presume would carry a dead hiker pretty far.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnXLh4N2KzGORZ93sq2tD-cGHVqmJF58OEMLT3T3Ikmpn06Zg_MO-bqdaTe5_u-896ccZCL4EAFlwKuxRIokwTp3JIBoJzW8z2zYw3Wm7Gf3Fznvk2h0SGl5oxcRlhsv8Ssh8XoofSgsg/s1600/557829_10201342812266775_1805231047_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnXLh4N2KzGORZ93sq2tD-cGHVqmJF58OEMLT3T3Ikmpn06Zg_MO-bqdaTe5_u-896ccZCL4EAFlwKuxRIokwTp3JIBoJzW8z2zYw3Wm7Gf3Fznvk2h0SGl5oxcRlhsv8Ssh8XoofSgsg/s1600/557829_10201342812266775_1805231047_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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And suspension bridges, which would swing wildly back and forth because you would make this happen on purpose because you like to see the person in front of you break into a fast trot.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAW3bN4nQxWZxVJ9dUeHDtMjfM-LFjH3RnVs0Fytppj7Fl3nfRJUvo6MgIEd3HziHbYuucADMwuE1eDADzFGzbdzessD9zV0QWB23CCbyLd3uAZTINnWpbYeWhDi8YD2br4m0oRtrH2Gs/s1600/603885_10201141325947681_1660293760_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAW3bN4nQxWZxVJ9dUeHDtMjfM-LFjH3RnVs0Fytppj7Fl3nfRJUvo6MgIEd3HziHbYuucADMwuE1eDADzFGzbdzessD9zV0QWB23CCbyLd3uAZTINnWpbYeWhDi8YD2br4m0oRtrH2Gs/s1600/603885_10201141325947681_1660293760_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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And of course if you swung them too wildly, more water to carry their dead hiker body away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Bpx2K8MEAvKOe54p8v4_0BfXnsAhASGDLJOJHMwPDen4VYpX01tTp6jlSnIFdPFANlRTGCIVHaEyFnIcx_6x9Fh5i8C0hmIL4MxOjjNFKmoYflU1ollcO3aYgqThy19xKnFilVWTTCA/s1600/1234879_10201342829947217_313510291_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Bpx2K8MEAvKOe54p8v4_0BfXnsAhASGDLJOJHMwPDen4VYpX01tTp6jlSnIFdPFANlRTGCIVHaEyFnIcx_6x9Fh5i8C0hmIL4MxOjjNFKmoYflU1ollcO3aYgqThy19xKnFilVWTTCA/s1600/1234879_10201342829947217_313510291_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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And more bridges. Nice, flat bridges.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkVOs_ODKIqLBoagP2omO3viINJvP4V8Z8d6Xq3CcaMDaXFH1_-90lIZoCjH3Ed3xyVwUIB6F-YuxRqHiA7GIOgbYy8tbk8rJPkZ0-eJostLdjcslVV_F_GetKFRbBkFJNMtzw1y-VKw/s1600/1235173_10201342852467780_1162471598_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkVOs_ODKIqLBoagP2omO3viINJvP4V8Z8d6Xq3CcaMDaXFH1_-90lIZoCjH3Ed3xyVwUIB6F-YuxRqHiA7GIOgbYy8tbk8rJPkZ0-eJostLdjcslVV_F_GetKFRbBkFJNMtzw1y-VKw/s1600/1235173_10201342852467780_1162471598_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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At least they hid the stairs from the nice, flat bridge so your trip over wasn't filled with disappointment. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HAbNvRbwXtNJLew0bztE9aZYL1lpJYeDSjsbb3jkUBkX1BZhe1L7yoEr_LrZqz_SSol4m_oJvgtRUtOgza3WF4re5vMAHXmNqGgHZ0cCKO06PGLYTwyAihLWb7moUTRC1OFoZM72Yyg/s1600/1374815_10201342858827939_1459149817_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HAbNvRbwXtNJLew0bztE9aZYL1lpJYeDSjsbb3jkUBkX1BZhe1L7yoEr_LrZqz_SSol4m_oJvgtRUtOgza3WF4re5vMAHXmNqGgHZ0cCKO06PGLYTwyAihLWb7moUTRC1OFoZM72Yyg/s1600/1374815_10201342858827939_1459149817_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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Because there was a lot of this.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrl9sxpl0Kyn66EPENvuWFuY2D1xg5KImiTIeJ3Ul1BOEuPS8mjkRz4i5EDrOSXHR8Bsgx-UdMiyfn7WudNFuneh77CraFVbb62c1wW4esVfbj-9SYEl-6Q987jqR03hO2VN8M1lOxrhA/s1600/1175094_10201141328827753_1748079123_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrl9sxpl0Kyn66EPENvuWFuY2D1xg5KImiTIeJ3Ul1BOEuPS8mjkRz4i5EDrOSXHR8Bsgx-UdMiyfn7WudNFuneh77CraFVbb62c1wW4esVfbj-9SYEl-6Q987jqR03hO2VN8M1lOxrhA/s1600/1175094_10201141328827753_1748079123_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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And even more of this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Yunr47w4S2nE3HYhnWJlOimkkaWEibJV11upMXshxaX69rfWJn_pRg0-aAV_dXZWj0ZFn26cWqRlp1nmmtuA7PJ-9hPDjCiLpqdBz8mu8ZFjKdRxDRTf2OCs9ySnjEEUFgVJ_QFeXfA/s1600/1239575_10201141314907405_1271395970_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Yunr47w4S2nE3HYhnWJlOimkkaWEibJV11upMXshxaX69rfWJn_pRg0-aAV_dXZWj0ZFn26cWqRlp1nmmtuA7PJ-9hPDjCiLpqdBz8mu8ZFjKdRxDRTf2OCs9ySnjEEUFgVJ_QFeXfA/s1600/1239575_10201141314907405_1271395970_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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And I'm quite surprised that people didn't die. But Lake Jocassee was pretty enough, although it may have appeared even more beautiful since I was admiring it on a 30-yard stretch of flat land.</div>
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For some reason, I came upon a bench that warranted posing like this on it. Unbeknownst to me, my friend had just done this while I was climbing this bitch of a hill to get to it. We're the same level of kickassiness. As in, under-prepared, slightly asthmatic, and really, really sweaty.</div>
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Here we are with directions to stop posing all sexy-like. We were too hot for that bench. This would be the last group picture of us before we started dropping like flies. </div>
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It was kind of like <i>The Hunger Games</i> except we didn't have to be killed to not finish the hike, we just had to get back to the boat and be like, no thanks, drive me to the finish! But other than that, it was just like <i>The Hunger Games</i>. We had to pee in the woods, like, A LOT.</div>
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And there was also lots of limbo, just like <i>The Hunger Games</i>. There are loads of deleted scenes just of Katniss and Peeta peeing and doing the limbo.</div>
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Of course, it started raining a couple of hours in because THERE WAS A ONE HUNDRED PERCENT CHANCE OF RAIN. And every time I got to an aid station, I would have to get re-taped because between the rain and the obscene amount of sweat my body was producing, the KT tape wouldn't stay on. This is the same tape I have seen on Olympic divers. That's how much sweat and rain was out there.</div>
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But surprising as it may be, I did not melt in the rain. Which really shouldn't be surprising at all because I'm not green and I don't fly on a broom. Believe me, if I had a flying broom, this hike would have been a lot easier. Turns out I'm just a plain old foul-mouthed hiker.</div>
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It was nice that there were pickles-dipped-in-nacho-cheese-rolled-in-crushed-Doritos because inhaling them slowed the stream of curses coming from my mouth considerably.</div>
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I'm fairly sure this is the last picture I have because the rain soon turned into the mountain monsoon. No one thought to bring their underwater cameras. But it was hard to see, especially because makeup was running into my eyes. I looked like a water-boarded hooker.</div>
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Sorry, no water-boarded hooker pics were taken to verify this, but the people on the trail with me didn't say anything to the contrary. Because those are my very best friends out there.</div>
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I'd like to say I was taking in the breath-taking scenery but rather it was still the scenery that was taking my breath away. As in, I didn't magically get in shape over the past few hours of this hike. I totally would have taken steroids had they been available at an aid station or from some muscular man's pocket.</div>
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I actually didn't feel so bad not being able to breathe anymore when the cramps started kicking in. Not the period cramps which OH YES THEY WILL MAKE AN APPEARANCE HERE SHORTLY, but the kind that run down your legs and into your feet. The really mean ones that jump from muscle to muscle so no matter how you stretch, you are still saying really bad words. 3 bananas and 4 liters of Gatorade later, all I had were banana burps and blue teeth. Oh, and the leg cramps. The gosh darn leg cramps. Which may or may not have been what I referred to them on the trail. It wasn't, by the way.</div>
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At this point on the trail, none of the spouses were together so us women proceeded to tell the men exactly what they should do to be better husbands. It was a mildly distracting hour in the never-ending leg cramp saga but what all men should take away from the event is that they are always wrong and if they aren't always wrong, they would be wrong to say so. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4EDhdAHrOg" target="_blank">It's not about the nail</a>.</div>
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My stomach started hurting incredibly bad thanks to that tramp Aunt Flo, so I made a joke at an aid station to our friend who takes so much pleasure in pooping in the woods that I would, in fact, need to be leaving a trace. His first reaction was to try to give me the world's most enthusiastic high-five. I imagine this level of excitement at Whole Foods when someone decides to give up gluten. Of course I would not be pooping in the woods, I said. That is gross, I said. Never, I said.</div>
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Then two hours later, my stomach was so swollen, it looked like my water might break at any second. Which would have gone unnoticed in the monsoon. My stomach hurt. My legs hurt. My soul hurt. </div>
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<b>Me</b>: <i>How exactly do you do it?</i></div>
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<b>The expert</b>: <i>Do what?</i></div>
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<b>Me</b>: <i>How do you poop in the woods? </i></div>
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<b>The expert</b>: <i>Are you serious?!?</i></div>
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<b>Me</b>: <i>Will you teach me?</i></div>
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If I had a waterproof camera, I would have taken a picture of his overjoyed face. He was more excited than I was and I make this declaration without exaggeration.</div>
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I changed my mind about ten times during the next mile as to if I would actually go through with this thing. But, we were the last hikers on the trail and I didn't think anyone else would come out in the rain, which I am convinced was so soaking that my internal organs were pruney, so I finally gave in and said I was ready. Mr. Miyagi showed me how to dig a hole with my pole. Daniel-san got stage fright and couldn't go. It's incredibly hard to get over stage fright the first several times you have to pee in the woods; I'd say it took me almost a whole year when I started hiking. Pooping in the woods is an entirely different story. I don't think this needs explaining as I was trying to POOP IN THE WOODS. </div>
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You know what else makes pooping in the woods kind of hard? Extreme leg cramping. Squatting down hurts but then you get stuck and then it hurts even more and you have to choose between the poop and the pain but the pain is also coming from the poop and ohmygod what am I supposed to do? So you try your best and you have another friend a few yards away to keep you company while you give her a running commentary of what you are doing and then when the magic happens, you use the biodegradable toilet paper that the expert has given you and then you feel bad because the whole bag is getting soaked in the rain but you make sure you wipe good because he put the fear of swamp ass in your mind and then you cover it up and move on before you feel the need to stop and do this again an hour later. </div>
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This is how much I hate kids' cancer.</div>
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At least with the monsoon, you kind of have a bidet. Ohhh, I went there. Actually between all the number ones and all the number twos, I kind of went lots of places.</div>
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The two of us girls who were left had never bothered to put on rain gear. Sometimes you get just as wet if you are sweating inside a rain jacket as if you were just hiking through the rain. But when you stop, you will quickly get cold. Which is why we tried not to stop. Except to pee and poop and change tampons and all that jazz. If you hike with me, you can rest assured that I will be carrying trash bags, hand sanitizer, and disposable gloves. I've officially done about everything that can be done in the woods and I am always quick to make sure my hands are clean. Side note: it wasn't until this writing that I have realized how many times I have accepted food from men who I've known to have gone the easy pee in the woods. And what that means had just touched their hands. And now I'm thinking that is even worse than pooping in the woods. Ugh. Must bring more sanitizer to account for the whole Donner party.</div>
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Us girls were splashing in the puddles. The boys were covered head to toe in rain gear and gingerly tip-toeing around them as if there were a liberal's chance on Fox they weren't going to get their feet soaked. This game went on for a long time before someone tried to pee and the seal was breached and then slowly, men started joining us in what I like to call the "I don't give a bad word how wet I am" death march toward the finish.</div>
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By the time we got to the last bail out point, I was debating whether I should finish the last two miles or hike a mile out of the woods that would not encompass an 1,100 foot elevation gain. There were five of us left. My girlfriend was ready to be done. I very much wanted to finish the hike but knew that there was not enough daylight left at the pace I was going. I have the night vision of a very elderly gentleman who has had botched cataract surgery. I went back and forth on the matter but ultimately knew that I would have to take a few more poop pauses if I went on and didn't want to slow down my friends. I hiked the mile out before stripping completely naked behind a van and changing into dry clothes. Because I just had pooped in the woods, so I was kind of not caring if a vehicle came around the bend and saw me. They'd just be like, oh, look at that poor, drenched, pregnant girl. But I totally did moon someone with my pruney-white ass as I was getting my comfy pants on. And they're totally welcome. </div>
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Getting my shoes off was even more painful than pooping, because I don't know if you've ever tried to remove double-knotted hiking shoes when you have severe leg cramps but good gosh darn. That's why I called a friend over to remove my muddy shoes and socks because that's what friends are for. To do disgusting things for you that you'd have to be drinking a lot of tequila to do for them in return.</div>
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And then I drank tequila and went to bed. I have never been to bed so early after a hike but I think this one kicked my ass in ways that no ass has ever been kicked. In fact, on the way home, we stopped at an Indian buffet and I only got one plate. ONE PLATE. At an Indian buffet. Can you imagine? I was<b> too tired to eat<i>. </i></b></div>
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But wouldn't you be tired after this? </div>
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Here we are, on the way back, in a position that I would stay in [with my eyes closed and mouth hanging open and most likely drooling] until we got back to my house where Matt was waiting for me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYX4yzTA8QDCPjsB4qMsm2LENmlLrlgTJKPw6aaL99ozGVULorRmGuROHxr9ny2bQ19ztkH101oLQeWCCiMISq9FK1lcAvb1AEsrafQB-iYnYvNl3TOe2FvXQYOBrdGBVJnIIhP0nNeaY/s1600/1240271_10201141323467619_1758249969_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYX4yzTA8QDCPjsB4qMsm2LENmlLrlgTJKPw6aaL99ozGVULorRmGuROHxr9ny2bQ19ztkH101oLQeWCCiMISq9FK1lcAvb1AEsrafQB-iYnYvNl3TOe2FvXQYOBrdGBVJnIIhP0nNeaY/s1600/1240271_10201141323467619_1758249969_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b>Matt:</b> <i>How was it?</i></div>
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<b>Me:</b><i><b> </b>I pooped in the woods.</i></div>
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<b>Matt: </b><i>Alright! [engages in world's second most enthusiastic high-five]</i></div>
Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-44326119383235322622013-12-18T12:23:00.004-05:002013-12-18T12:23:59.806-05:00GET RICH QUICKSo, with the holidays approaching and all, I figured I'd help y'all out with how to make some easy money:<br />
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Take it from your kids. Take all of it.<br />
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It started out last spring when Daniel displayed some unbecoming behavior and ended up breaking his glasses in the process. It's one thing for a little boy to be clumsy and fall and accidentally break his glasses and it's quite another thing for a little boy to behave like a little butthole and break them because he didn't want to do his homework. When <i>quite another things</i> happen, you decide you are not paying for round six of specs. You charge the villain in question. Luckily for him, we order from <a href="http://www.zennioptical.com/" target="_blank">Zenni Optical</a> which was suggested to us by a friend who guessed that the prices were so low because they were probably made by child laborers in some southeast Asian sweatshop.<br />
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Right after we cleaned out half of Daniel's birthday money on his new glasses, he and Eve were horsing around in the bathroom. Now, there are a few things you do in the bathroom, including pooping, peeing, and checking email. There are a few things you do not do in the bathroom, including body piercing, DIY tear-drop tattoos, and climbing on the toilet. Why no climbing on the toilet? Well, because I said so. LIKE A MILLION AND ONE TIMES. Every time you climb on the toilet, I have to buy a new toilet seat because you get it all cattywampus and the next person to sit down and take a leak is leaking in all the wrong places. <br />
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So I leave the house and when I return, Matt is in the bathroom with an entire roll of paper towels on the floor and the hallway smells like cinnamon apples. Suspiciously like the cinnamon apple oil that I put into my "make the bathroom smell like pie, not poop" vase. Interestingly enough, the vase was intact. Well, the front side was. Dan and Eve had turned it around so the broken side was in the back. But just how did they reach the vase, which is on the top shelf above the toilet? Oh wait, now I see the toilet tank lid is broken. I have a guess now.<br />
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The cheapest we could find a replacement was $50. So they had to pony up, meaning Daniel handed over the remainder of his birthday money and Eve was on the hook for her half until her birthday money started rolling in. You break, you buy.<br />
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Well, a week or two after the new glasses arrived, Nat and Dan both managed to break them. This was good because now Natalie can't complain that we left her out.<br />
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These kinds of repayments went on for a while before I realized that I wasn't really profiting from this parenthood thing. There has to be a way to do this better.<br />
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The kids get off the bus and Daniel says that Natalie was trying to humiliate him? Well, of course I'll ask first. You can't just dole out punishments without getting the other side of the story. But when the accused in question first lies and then gets caught and actually seems <i>proud</i> of whatever they stand accused of, then PAY ME FIVE DOLLARS. Every time you lie to me, I want cash. Bonus taxes if you are extremely terrible to your siblings. Unless they deserved it.<br />
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Then, in a Mama Berenstain Bear huff, after having told the kids nine times a day for the past four years to put their dirty clothes in the hamper, I filled a small box with dirty socks left around the house, socks that were stiff with dried sweat, dirt, and gag-inducing odors. Socks that could be used as a shiv in a prison fight. Nasty, nasty socks. I won't even mention how many pairs of underwear had made their way onto the stairs, next to the sofa, and under the dining table. <br />
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It was at that moment that I decided any article of clothing I saw on the floor would be subject to a $0.25 penalty. It's kind of reasonable. The thought is that they won't like to lose money so they will start to remember that, hey, dirty socks aren't confetti to be thrown around the house. If you follow this same system, you will find that in one week you will have collected $14 dollars in fines.<br />
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If you are caught stealing money from a sibling to pay said fines, fines increase two-fold, plus damages will be awarded to the plaintiff.<br />
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The next phase of my plan includes charging a quarter each time you do not do something I say the first time. Which means between <i>Turn off the computer and do your homework, </i><i>Clean your room</i> and <i>Stop armpit-farting</i>, we're going to be rich.<br />
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<br />Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-87701092377550221472013-11-20T11:01:00.002-05:002013-11-20T11:03:27.879-05:00The Great Taco Tasting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm going to tell you one of the more awesome things I have done since I've graced you with my presence on this earth: I starved myself for a week and then went to Taco Bell.</div>
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I shouldn't say <em>starving </em>because I totally ate like a TON of dressing-less salad and brothy soup. I wasn't trying to lose weight; I was trying to save up my carbs. All of them. For the end all, be all of taco excursions.</div>
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So, my friend and I are like World's Number One and Two Taco Bell fans. She was getting married. I was making her cake. We didn't need no cake tasting. We needed a Taco Bell tasting. I think the original conversation went something like this:</div>
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<em>You know how people save up money and go out to a nice restaurant for a special occasion?</em></div>
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<em>We should just use all that money and go to Taco Bell and order one of everything off the menu.</em></div>
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<em>When should we go?</em></div>
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So, back to the starving. I don't know if you know this, but Taco Bell has quite a few menu items. Half of them you can order with chicken or steak or Meximeat or plain or supreme or THERE'S A LOT OF OPTIONS, OKAY. Which means you are not allowed to take in more than 10 calories a day for the week leading up to the big event.</div>
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Now, since we aren't completely crazy, we realized it was impossible to taste one of everything because A) That is a beautiful idea but you'd have to be like Michael Phelps and B) The Cantina Bell menu will bankrupt this venture before it's begun. No, we had to narrow it down and we narrowed it down to Meximeat. One of everything with Meximeat, not just because it's the cheapest, but because it's the original. You wouldn't go to a McDonald's tasting and leave out the hamburgers, would you? Or maybe you just wouldn't go to a McDonald's tasting. </div>
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Okay, we have decided to order one of everything that has ground beef, except for taco salad because pfft. And at my friend's insistence, no taco labeled "Fresco" because...it's Taco Bell. We're not kidding anyone. But everything supreme, because this is a special occasion. You know it's a big deal when you pay the extra ten cents for them to break out the sour cream gun.</div>
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That left us with twenty-one menu items. OHMYGOD ARE YOU AS EXCITED AS I WAS? First things first, how to order? We decided to write down each menu item we would be ordering on a slip of paper and put into a bag where we could blindly draw three items at a time. Three would be the most we would order so we wouldn't end up with soggy food. Soggy food is a big ol' sad face. We would just repeat this process seven times.</div>
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I brought some appetite stimulant along in case I hit my wall. Enter peach gin. We picked up some Sprite Zero because I have this thing that I don't drink caffeine and I don't drink sugar and I don't drink liquor straight and I really don't drink soda unless it's a mixer. Taco Bell doesn't offer anything to accommodate my needs so we figured they would be okay if we brought in our own drinks since we were going to be ordering twenty-one items off the menu. Also, most people who work at Taco Bell are sixteen and if they even tried to care, they would get distracted by some text from their best frenemy that is written in capslock sans vowels. My friend said if anyone asked, we should just tell them that there are no caffeine-free, low-calorie offerings at the soda fountain so we had to bring our own. I like that logic. It is the logic of someone who desperately needs something to eat.</div>
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My friend wondered aloud if we should tell the cashier what we were up to, and I said no, we should just wait to see how many times we would go up and order before they started to recognize us. So, of course my friend decided to tell the cashier exactly what we were doing, and I'm not sure if this was a straight out bride-to-be veto or if her blood sugar was getting low on account of a week of no carbs.</div>
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<em>Hi, Haley. We are going to be...</em></div>
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<em>Why did you call me Haley?</em></div>
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<em>Umm, it's on your name tag.</em></div>
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<em>Oh. My name is Leah.</em></div>
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I like the fact that Leah was just randomly wearing Haley's name tag. I guess it makes sense because if anyone calls to complain about bad customer service, it's that bitch Haley who is going to get in trouble. Also, apparently no one at Taco Bell is ever worried on missing out on a call about excellent customer service because this ain't Chick-fil-a. In addition, I think it's interesting that when my friend called Leah <em>Haley, </em>no bells went off. She's going to get herself into some <em>Three's Company-</em>type scenario when she hits the college nightclub scene and starts giving guys fake names. </div>
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While waiting for our first three items, we came up with an official score sheet for the big taco tasting. Each item would be scored 1-5 on taste, texture, and appearance. This was highly scientific and would basically prove to be the Zagat survey of Taco Bell. In La Plata, Maryland. From the night shift. After varying amounts of peach gin. This is some scientific shiznit.</div>
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I was so dedicated to the tasting that I didn't even cover the food in hot sauce so I could actually taste all the love and attention that went into my meal. I instead saved the handful I always snag with the napkins (muscle memory) and stored them in my purse. Because I read once that there was a woman who ran off the road and was trapped in our car and survived for days on packets of taco sauce until she was found. </div>
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We eventually got to the point where this turned into a fancy meal because the trays were being brought out to us, kind of like Chick-fil-a, which by this post appears to be my standard of fine dining. I have to say, this is one of the more impressive Taco Bells I've ever been in. The food was spot-on and it was new and clean and so unlike one Taco Bell in Cary, North Carolina which manages to make the tacos taste like band-aids and has an atmosphere like Epcot's Maelstrom. No one ever wants to eat a taco in <em>there</em>.</div>
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As the trays were delivered, the guy bringing them would smile and say, "Have a good night!" To which he heard in reply, <em>You don't have to keep telling us that. We're not going anywhere</em>. We were serious food critics and demanded to be taken seriously.</div>
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I have to say that there were a few surprises, among them a new Doritos Locos Taco. I have said it before and I'll say it again: I find the Doritos Locos Taco just the sum of its parts. The regular and the Cool Ranch are just <em>okay</em>. The taco doesn't seem to be as crunchy as a regular taco and it gets your hands all messy. I came into the great taco tasting with this bias. Turns out, I felt the same way when I ate those two tacos. UNTIL THE FIERY DORITOS LOCOS TACO. Sweet momma, this thing was amazing. So I take back one-third of everything I said about Doritos Locos Tacos before. I think this is the one to try if you haven't already.</div>
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Also, the volcano nachos were a huge surprise, which seem to be disappearing off the menu recently. Get them while you can. Neither of us could figure out why we had never tried them before and now I'm sad that they are increasingly harder to find. Just don't go to that Taco Bell in Cary. They will serve you volcano sauce that smells like death. Still tastes like band-aids, though.</div>
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So, after 1 hour, 32 minutes, and 9 seconds, we managed to spend $56.37. I knew you could get a lot for your money at Taco Bell, but you go in there with anything more than a twenty and you eat like a king. A very, very fat king with a tape worm. Who is eating his feelings. And has the peach gin munchies.</div>
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The results are in: on the night of August 29, 2013, there was a tie for best Meximeat item: the Chalupa Supreme and the Cheesy Beefy Potato Burrito. Both can be yours for less than five dollars. I have confirmed the results a few times since the tasting and can tell you these are also very delicious even if you don't have access to peach gin. </div>
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I have to say, I have sort of an iron-clad stomach but even I was afraid of what so much Taco Bell would do to me. Turns out, I was worried about the wrong thing. I didn't poop for three days. I don't care, though, because it was totally worth it. Plus, I packed elastic-waisted pants. </div>
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Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-20145912114874876522013-10-30T22:25:00.000-04:002013-10-30T22:32:31.480-04:00Dangerous Marine Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We went to the beach two and a half months ago. This is what I remember of it.<br />
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I was proud that we managed to remember where we stored our beach rafts from last year. If you have seen our garage, you'd be patting me on the back right now. And my back isn't even sunburned because I am so good about using sunscreen so you could really pat it hard because you have seen my garage.<br />
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No sharks in there, I hope. God, do I hate sharks.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRnTQoVmQX609joUHkfP_xtTfKBLLowMEm5Zsa1teDr36k3RXnu3P6TwkOMGrkcFD42f7IAtNkXFAy9WkaaKjL_iY4cVztG4YqaD2BDeHJNHN-V4BF1j3kwlNBcEv_dWpHqyKkL2hoqM/s1600/f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRnTQoVmQX609joUHkfP_xtTfKBLLowMEm5Zsa1teDr36k3RXnu3P6TwkOMGrkcFD42f7IAtNkXFAy9WkaaKjL_iY4cVztG4YqaD2BDeHJNHN-V4BF1j3kwlNBcEv_dWpHqyKkL2hoqM/s320/f.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Oh crap, is that a baby shark?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJw2BIC2onA-jejP4piaqSN6vnnRz2HOZ0jWbjpuGuhyphenhyphenticDxX9OyGgsWBAffqH-uEd5-aDQJdWXkx-flmwTZJPCrRDkGMq5v6BFa_UzR2wu0rbp6rosMYEve7y3nW74Lz170CPFWi40/s1600/g.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJw2BIC2onA-jejP4piaqSN6vnnRz2HOZ0jWbjpuGuhyphenhyphenticDxX9OyGgsWBAffqH-uEd5-aDQJdWXkx-flmwTZJPCrRDkGMq5v6BFa_UzR2wu0rbp6rosMYEve7y3nW74Lz170CPFWi40/s320/g.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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Daniel is like a puppy on the beach. A puppy who is enthusiastically after some Snausages. I like Daniel better than puppies though, because he is potty trained and doesn't leave my hand smelling weird when I touch him and doesn't smell like death when he goes swimming and doesn't bring me some slobbery ball and doesn't jump all up on me scratching my legs to hell to check and see if I'm menstruating and basically I'm not a dog person.<br />
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Eve is more my speed. We are like puppies that only have two legs and walk upright and talk instead of bark and eat with forks and knives and don't sniff and/or lick our buttholes. We're kind of like people, almost.<br />
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I don't think I'd be one of those jerks who tells you that if you lived somewhere nice that you would cease to appreciate how special it is. Shut up with that. I'd be outside every night with my slice of pizza and some cheap gin, no matter if I'd been there ten days or ten years. And if I did that every night for a whole decade, I'd probably start putting some wacky stuff on my pies because while I would never tire of the beach, I might get kind of sick of 3,652 slices of banana pepper and pineapple pizza. Maybe. Maybe not.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nVubhzA7odf7kyrFDKN6i3b1x7YzXcYmKyVvOAckxsArvw6zrBWcRCO17wr9d_jdpj0RZCoXeU7wgxV6IvFLvXEJGoVGK7F2dkSP1VWnMF12JfjH_CjcOP1SbVBlwZ2KIGO-NkCAQPk/s1600/t.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8nVubhzA7odf7kyrFDKN6i3b1x7YzXcYmKyVvOAckxsArvw6zrBWcRCO17wr9d_jdpj0RZCoXeU7wgxV6IvFLvXEJGoVGK7F2dkSP1VWnMF12JfjH_CjcOP1SbVBlwZ2KIGO-NkCAQPk/s320/t.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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You might also pat the other side of my back for locating the sand toys in the garage because that first part of my back is getting kind of sore from all the accolades. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLtkQNw4VzJy4nivOjxBAyIML_wcVT9FIlpElPTeQdHjR5rqG9eeZiNaQyeIux_qKXiGjtqu-VCzS1UPLN_fTDAz0TYdLhmCH9dtECWG2E1H_pYE_E4X3U9npG788Z6dJcz6stPLU5cA/s1600/zy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLtkQNw4VzJy4nivOjxBAyIML_wcVT9FIlpElPTeQdHjR5rqG9eeZiNaQyeIux_qKXiGjtqu-VCzS1UPLN_fTDAz0TYdLhmCH9dtECWG2E1H_pYE_E4X3U9npG788Z6dJcz6stPLU5cA/s320/zy.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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There must always be an indoor pool at the beach in the event of a thunderstorm or sharknado. Also, there must be a grandfather to use as a flotation device.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFVhfAeWdiTjRo06UUkeIu_CWjjLrwCUWyanl89Uco7BNECldx8hNMoTwUinXN_8ErDaLIiuJlfaFzmbLfTR07LlrZ0KT58OTPkO5j32glfzcMHZQ3wTdX6wRQq_3Aqjp_Ps5cGmrnvg/s1600/zze.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQFVhfAeWdiTjRo06UUkeIu_CWjjLrwCUWyanl89Uco7BNECldx8hNMoTwUinXN_8ErDaLIiuJlfaFzmbLfTR07LlrZ0KT58OTPkO5j32glfzcMHZQ3wTdX6wRQq_3Aqjp_Ps5cGmrnvg/s320/zze.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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My mom kept saying she was getting bit by flies at the pool and I was all like, "Flies don't bite, Mom." And then I was all like, "Hot damn, that fly just bit me!" I want to know who told Noah to let the biting flies on the ark because they should have been chucked along with the sharks.<br />
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But sharks can't drown. Crap. We were always going to be stuck with them.<br />
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Again, I'd eat pizza under this sky right now and I wouldn't try to downplay it and be like, "Oh, you just get used to it." YOU DON'T GET USED TO NIGHT PIZZA ON THE BEACH.<br />
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I'd eat pizza during the day while watching the kids not get eaten by sharks.<br />
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I would warn the kids not to go swimming near the pier because that is where the sharks party. You know how ants like to hang around family reunions and eat up all those pound cake crumbs that fall to the ground? It's just like that, but with bait instead of crumbs and sharks instead of ants and people in bathing suits instead of matching t-shirts. I get nervous when I see the gaggles of old people setting up beach chairs under the pier because I see how long it took them to set everything up and when the sharks start nipping at the them, they are going to be very slow to get away. Also, they bruise so easily. I almost want to buy them an umbrella so they can come and hang out away from the pier but, like I said, there are gaggles of them and I have to budget for pizza. But, no gaggles were pictured here because it was late-afternoon and it was dinnertime. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgk5dSF-1pJmlUkWJTfn1kygMLDQKRfKQtrOwdNGQ9RP3xL6u7oCf7g08U3KK8RcU6-y-lGJLb9v4Nydxe71X9He9ScuQv2Gv2LN61p3ihO4RL8Ivi6rHMVPkzDoY87rMXEnEiUeY-54/s1600/m.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtgk5dSF-1pJmlUkWJTfn1kygMLDQKRfKQtrOwdNGQ9RP3xL6u7oCf7g08U3KK8RcU6-y-lGJLb9v4Nydxe71X9He9ScuQv2Gv2LN61p3ihO4RL8Ivi6rHMVPkzDoY87rMXEnEiUeY-54/s320/m.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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Plus, there is rarely a lifeguard on duty after 4 so you're kind of at the mercy of Natalie to make sure you don't get pulled under by a riptide or a shark or an old person being dragged into the ocean by a shark during a riptide.<br />
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We watched <i>The Karate Kid</i> and I'm pretty sure it changed the trajectory of Daniel's life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSY-64CRKuNKknfdpprbxVFNgQljMUWSVcNtiy4IdmJu5axOGlDQeYcss76A49-YK0ae7QMAPXLPhReZwbl6sWNF5kHSbvtn3pdEsz0oQ6mzv_Kgd1pVSyH8K4AsyIpDqNz5bnK1EOmY/s1600/b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSY-64CRKuNKknfdpprbxVFNgQljMUWSVcNtiy4IdmJu5axOGlDQeYcss76A49-YK0ae7QMAPXLPhReZwbl6sWNF5kHSbvtn3pdEsz0oQ6mzv_Kgd1pVSyH8K4AsyIpDqNz5bnK1EOmY/s320/b.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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While Eve enjoyed the movie, too, she and I were just high on snacks.<br />
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Here is Nat maybe running away from a shark.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROm0AAXWzzPJ1JzLjott6vjL36ELcNC-nIIGqn4CA3ZVs5WGqzedDP4n2qmEmM9yKhtd3jO6dJom9FaiXD6AlzUM2wehaSxgMLDADxgT3HkcdjGL7IxJ37YAllxVSaYza83G8lAGKPSg/s1600/d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROm0AAXWzzPJ1JzLjott6vjL36ELcNC-nIIGqn4CA3ZVs5WGqzedDP4n2qmEmM9yKhtd3jO6dJom9FaiXD6AlzUM2wehaSxgMLDADxgT3HkcdjGL7IxJ37YAllxVSaYza83G8lAGKPSg/s320/d.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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And these pictures are cool just because. And just because there are no sharks.<br />
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<i>Mom, hold this!</i><br />
I was making a really inappropriate face under all this mess. Or I was being really endearing. I can't remember. This was two and a half months ago.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtrd9Qhdm7AXN32mC92EV40lVGU88HUgYfmUCqijSwepzjLb90ftGtUFkHyb7bxdytkRiJjZoK1dt_1BZLjkiYeo8LuEOesmq5rmq5gArb2dN3CHwbqKwHeAq1oYWgQ-vlniYiNkXI4Y/s1600/i.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtrd9Qhdm7AXN32mC92EV40lVGU88HUgYfmUCqijSwepzjLb90ftGtUFkHyb7bxdytkRiJjZoK1dt_1BZLjkiYeo8LuEOesmq5rmq5gArb2dN3CHwbqKwHeAq1oYWgQ-vlniYiNkXI4Y/s320/i.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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<i>Mom, watch this!</i><br />
I'm totally watching. If you could see my face, you could see you can trust me.<br />
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<i>Matt, let's move here and eat pizza on the beach every night!</i><br />
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Here's Nat either having a pre-tween moment or capturing sea snails. She might have been trying to get word to the families of <a href="http://evegriffith.blogspot.com/2012/08/gary-larry-and-darryl.html" target="_blank">Gary, Larry, and Darryl</a>.<br />
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When the <i>Dangerous Marine Life</i> flag is out, we can find something else to do. Like indoor putt-putt. I don't know if you know this, but I don't mess around with sharks. Or jellyfish. But definitely not sharks or anything else under the <i>dangerous marine life</i> category which is probably just a list of all kinds of different sharks.<br />
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We so photogenic. 2013 Christmas card?<br />
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This is where I get it from.<br />
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Everything in this place was neon. Just like in the volcanic regions of Hawaii, I'm told. <br />
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The pool is still inside, just for events like dangerous marine life.<br />
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I think Dan got a strike.<br />
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The aquarium is also a fun place to visit when it's cold and rainy and dangerously mariney and everyone else from Myrtle Beach is there. <br />
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The conveyor belt that takes you along the shark tunnel will cease to operate if there are too many people. There were too many people. You had to walk. WALK. Ugh. I guess it was as much training as I would be getting for my Ultimate Hike while on vacation. Silver linings.<br />
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Daniel enjoyed the fact that the belt wasn't forcing him to move anywhere. He likes to bring a journal with him to sketch things of interest. And what <i>isn't</i> a thing of interest? I guess, technically, the uninteresting.<br />
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Is it Beetlejuice or Robin Thicke? Either way, it's still creepy.<br />
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There was a mermaid show on the other side of these stingrays.<br />
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<b>Eve</b>: <i>Mermaids!!!</i><br />
<b>Nat</b>: <i>You believe in mermaids?</i><br />
<b>Eve</b>: <i>You <b>don't</b>?</i><br />
<b>Nat</b>: <i>They aren't real.</i><br />
<b>Eve</b>: <i>I'm looking at mermaids right now. </i><br />
<b>Nat</b>: <i>You think mermaids are real?</i><br />
<b>Eve</b>: <i>OF COURSE THEY ARE REAL! I SEE MERMAIDS RIGHT THERE!</i><br />
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Of course. Duh, Natalie.<br />
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Check me out at Ripley's Odditorium. This is what I look like before I move to the beach and eat pizza every night for ten years.<br />
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And this just makes me want to pull out my VHS copy of <i>Big</i> and show it to the kids while we eat baby corn.<br />
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Since they refused to take the <i>Dangerous Marine Life </i>flag down, we just hoped that no sharks would hot dog roll out of the ocean toward us on the beach.<br />
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I'd totally buy a pizza and hoof it to the beach right now, flag or no flag.<br />
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Preferably no flag, though.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-40193128499568758132013-10-03T13:55:00.001-04:002013-10-03T13:56:52.024-04:00Kids Eating Sandwiches<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We went to the mountains in Virginia over our summer track-out to have a reunion with Matt's extended family before settling down to eat and burn anything that was semi-flammable. </div>
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Daniel brought his camera and documented the day. Like this:<br />
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I know what you're thinking. HE'S GOT SKILLS! You're right. He gets that shiznit from his mother.<br />
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That was fun and there was good macaroni and cheese because you have to have macaroni and cheese in foil trays for it to be a reunion. If you don't, it's just a gathering, and gatherings sound like a party in a dry county. Mac and cheese makes everything better.<br />
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Also, there was a picnic table full of <a href="http://www.rainbowloom.com/" target="_blank">rainbow loom</a> supplies which kept the kids occupied for hours. And by hours, I mean THREE WHOLE ONES. Which gives you plenty of time to eat more mac and cheese. Because you gotta carb up. Because we're in the mountains. And that means we have to hike.<br />
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I mean hiking and <i>hiking.</i> This is the lodge we stayed in.<br />
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The kitchen was at the far end of the house and the bathrooms were alllll the way at the other end. And in between were eight sets of bunks and one full-size bed. So if you were cooking and suddenly realized you had to use the toilet, you were basically forced to choose between overcooking whatever it was that was on the stove and peeing your pants. On the plus side, if you left the food on a burner and the kitchen caught on fire, you'd still have plenty of time to finish your bathroom business before the flames got to you.<br />
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<a href="http://www.dcr.virginia.gov/state_parks/dou.shtml">Douthat State Park</a> has lots of free or nominally-priced programs for families to participate in. We signed up for a night-hike after all the mac and cheese had been eaten. I'd show you pictures, but it was dark. Because it was a night hike. A personal favorite was going to the darkest part of the forest and them chomping down on a LifeSavers Wint-O-Green mint about a half-inch from your partner's face. I don't think we had to be this close, but it was dark and I just kept advancing toward who I thought was Daniel until I headbutted someone of his approximate height. This turned out not just to be a fun way to remove some of that mac and cheese taste from your mouth but also apparently sparks when you bite down. This is called triboluminsence but I'm not going to insult your intelligence and lead you to believe I have any idea what that means. You know I don't know what that means. <br />
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The next morning, we went out for a hike where we could actually see things and not trip over anything and die. It was lovely. We got to see this truck and this truck makes EVERYTHING WORTH IT.<br />
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I'd ride shotgun in that like a boss. Except I would remain fully clothed unlike those Barbies because maybe whoever is hot gluing naked dolls to the roof of their truck may have some things they are working out and the only way things are going to get worked out is if you remain fully clothed. Which we should all be working on, anyway. <br />
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I imagine the work out you get when hiking with kids is similar to the finished product you get when cleaning with kids. <br />
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My kids come by it honest when they want to eat every four minutes, but it will seriously slow down a good hike if you just plop down on the trail every four minutes to actually do it.<br />
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Plop.<br />
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Sometimes you have to tell them that there is a maniac who is coming after them to get them to move a little faster.<br />
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Sometimes this backfires.<br />
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Oh well. When you are Mom of the Year, sometimes you just have to brainstorm out loud and not every idea is going to be a winner. But in my defense, most of the stuff that comes out of my mouth is like 94% brilliant. Plus, I think it was Matt who told her a <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NjbGr2nk2c" target="_blank">maniac</a> was chasing her down in the woods, anyway.<br />
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There are no maniacs on this trail. Go find this trail. Be happy. Bring Cheetos. Be happier.<br />
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I was extra happy that I was the only adult who signed up with the kids to participate in the Campire Cookery class where we made peach crisps and ice cream and I GOT TO EAT THE ICE CREAM while the other big people watched. It was not phenomenal ice cream, however, but what can you expect trying to make it next to a raging campfire and your name ain't Ben and/or Jerry? You expect not a lot and when you go through life expecting not a lot, your are pleasantly surprised not a little but a lot. A lot!</div>
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There is a beach at the lake and there is also a table where a ranger lets you play with the stuff they had to play with before there were toasters, smartphones, or console TVs. One preteen cousin thought this particular ranger was hot with two T's. <i>I'm gonna tell her I just got bit on the lips by a poisonous snake. She needs to come suck all that venom out!</i> This child is who <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4TYv2PhG89A" target="_blank">Sade</a> was singing about.</div>
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It was like being in an outdoor Cracker Barrel. I lubbed it.</div>
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My favorite was <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Game_of_graces" target="_blank">Game of Graces</a>, which apparently is not available on Amazon. So now I need some drumsticks and a sewing hoop for Christmas because this game makes me feel like an ATHLETE. </div>
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Also, hydrobiking makes me feel like an athlete. It also makes me feel lucky that I didn't have to be the only adult in a paddleboat with three kids who aren't pedaling.</div>
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And lucky to be HERE and not in Detroit or something.</div>
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Each day at the beach with zero humidity and no sharks is a win-win in my book. My book of wins runneth over.</div>
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And I think kids eating sandwiches are the best. I like to watch kids eat things that are bigger than their faces. Way cuter than cat memes.<br />
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Oh, and did I mention I like relaxing in a beach chair without having to worry that my kids are going to be attacked by a shark? I RELAXED IN THAT CHAIR FOR HOURS. No one got attacked by a shark.<br />
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Such a pretty place to not get attacked by sharks. <br />
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Every once in a while you run into a few rabid kids on the trail and a sad pup.<br />
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Why you sad, Eve? You got half a kidney!<br />
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My knees get weak when the kids get close to places where they could easily fall and never be heard from again. Like the wall of a dam or Chuck E. Cheese.<br />
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Thankfully, no one fell or was attacked by a shark or caught something at Chuck E. Cheese. We just got to see the prettiness that nature and man together made. Like global warming.<br />
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Creek crossings. MY FAVORITE. I always feel like I'm in an Indiana Jones movie, but without the snakes or Germans.<br />
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Creek crossings are not so much of a favorite for Eve. She gets that cat-in-a-washtub attitude and you practically have to drag her through the water while her tail poofs and she starts shedding.<br />
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Dry shoes are for the birds, which is interesting because birds don't use half the things we say they should. Unless they are looking for comfy materials to make a nest, in which case the dry socks would probably be very practical.<br />
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I want to sit down on a mossy patch and pull out a baguette from my red gingham picnic basket and just wait for some Disney wildlife to appear while I enjoy the view. Until then, I'll have to sit down on this recliner and pull out some Doritos from the red Doritos bag and wait for some kids to come begging for Doritos while I stare at this picture.<br />
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Swimming in the creek with your clothes on is apparently a rite of passage that I'd participate in only if I could be wearing a bathing suit and I was not in a creek. But it's mountain water, so that means it's fresh and you don't have to wash your kids afterwards.<br />
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They can splash all they want; just give me a can of bug spray and a small child to pass out in my lap and keep me warm. I am a really good sitter and watcher. Not like a good babysitter, just a person who is good at sitting. But when I see something, I am very good at pointing and alerting other more responsible adults.<br />
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Every night we did some more sitting and watched people burn stuff. Doesn't matter if it's flammable- it's going in the fire. We can fish out whatever doesn't burn but quietly emits carcinogens from the glowing embers in the morning. That's why our s'mores have that je ne sais quoi.<br />
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And catching fireflies makes me feel like an athlete, also. They are so much easier to get than houseflies and they <i>love</i> living in mayonnaise jars.<br />
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I love emptying mayonnaise jars. Into my mouth.<br />
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Rangers will also give you plastic containers and headlamps to go search for salamanders. Again, I will just watch. <br />
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Eve and her cousin can play in that mess all day searching for salamanders. It's mountain water. Those bitches are sterile.<br />
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Awwwwww. That's just as cute as a kid eating a sandwich.<br />
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Douthat had everything. CRAFTS. The dude abides.<br />
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Survival bracelets. In case the person watching you is unable to get out of her chair in a timely fashion, you'll have some chance of outrunning that mountain shark.<br />
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Matt and I took Nat by herself on a hike that may or may not have been labeled "strenuous" on the literature.<br />
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Nat checks. Yes, it is strenuous. No, I don't know why we're taking you with us on this hike except that it probably builds character.<br />
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Strenuous trail aptly named.<br />
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It keeps going up. Why are we doing this to ourselves. I'm so tired reliving it that I can't even go back and put a question mark at the end of that.<br />
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But we persevere and make it to the falls where a fabulous rock sofa awaits. You don't know how comfortable a cold, rock sofa is until you hike up to Blue Suck.<br />
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It's probably actually not that hard of a hike, but I was carrying a lot of beer and marshmallow weight in my belly from the week so my body wasn't running at full capacity. Getting to the top of the falls, though...<i>that</i> was a challenge. Not a tiring challenge, but a challenge like, <i>ohmygod please don't let my 8-year-old slip and fall backwards and take both of us down to our deaths</i> kind of challenge. A mental challenge. CHALLENGING! <br />
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After we were done not falling to deaths, we hiked up to the top of the mountain. No one was maimed or injured or chased by sharks. Go us!<br />
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We were sweaty enough that our armpits were actually making the humidity levels rise. That's okay, though, because it's MOUNTAIN sweat, so it's clean. Just salty. This is what happened when I rung out my shirt.<br />
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This is what happens when you leave the compound to go out to dinner after a week of fresh mountain air:<br />
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Daniel must not have been breathing deep enough.<br />
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We went to the Cat and Owl Restaurant which is owned by my mother-in-law's cousin, or my husband's first cousin once-removed, or my children's first cousin twice-removed, or the father of my second cousin-in-law who I am friends with on Facebook. I am good at figuring out all the cousining. <br />
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I know people will lie to their children and tell them they don't have favorites, but Daniel was my favorite that night. He brought his camera and asked for a tour of the restaurant so he could document everything. He's got glasses and a case that he diligently returns his camera to. I love everything about this kid.<br />
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Plus, these pics are a lil' Twin Peakish, which makes them cooler than your kids' pics who don't wear glasses or return their cameras diligently to their cases.<br />
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After dinner, I sat outside while all the people with far more maturity (read: everyone but me) stayed inside to catch up. I just encouraged the fighting with sticks. And we learned the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3PtsgN0r0M" target="_blank">beer song</a>, except I changed <i>beer </i>to <i>cake</i> because I'm a grown up and I don't condone any redneckiness when it comes to kids and alcohol, especially you knuckleheads who pose your babies with bottles of beer. They are KIDS so just let them strike their brother in the nuts with a giant stick.<br />
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And go climb some trees while you're at it. Just don't fall down because I'm really far away and just using my telephoto lens. But I'm watching. Like that creepy guy who uses his telephoto lens to spy on his neighbors. I'M LOOKING AT YOU, CREEPY GUY ACROSS THE STREET. <br />
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Of course, in a lodge in the mountains, there is going to be some wildlife. But damn if the damnity damn mice didn't find us. We knew they were they were when they attacked our food so we had to get creative and hide said food like one of those crazies who stockpiles Twinkies and cans of beans for Doomsday. My sister-in-law and I were the last ones up one night and she called me into the hallway.<br />
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Michelle, looking all excited like she has a great joke to share: <i>Christy, I have to tell you something.</i><br />
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Me, ready for the really funny joke: <i>What?</i><br />
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Michelle, not telling a really funny joke: <i>A mouse just went into your room.</i><br />
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Me, still trying to figure out if this is a joke: <i>What?</i><br />
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Michelle, trying not to scream: <i>You almost stepped on him when you came out.</i><br />
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Me, just figuring out what that could meant since I was barefoot: <i>OMG, I don't have any shoes on!</i><br />
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Aunt Becky, who has been listening from her room: <i>A mouse?</i><br />
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Michelle, still trying not to scream: <i>MOUSE! Christy and Matt's room! He's in there!</i><br />
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Me, from the hallway: <i>Matt, there's a mouse in there with you and the girls!</i><br />
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Matt, borderline pissed-off that I woke him up: <i>He'll leave eventually.</i><br />
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Aunt Becky, trying to be quiet but it's really hard because there's a MOUSE ON THE LOOSE: <i>You can sleep in my room, Christy</i>.<br />
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I pole vaulted into her top bunk. As much as I wanted to make that mouse suffer for getting into my Rice Krispies treats, I did not want to see him face to face while he was alive. I just wanted him to choke on a Rice Krispie or something. In the kitchen. Pinned to a trap. Humanely.<br />
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I'm grossed out just thinking about it. Let's just quit and call it the end.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-55029778227969635752013-09-17T00:33:00.000-04:002013-09-17T00:33:30.470-04:00Girls' Weekend<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I see lots of people post about how they are desperate for a girls' weekend out of town. The thought of going to the beach for a weekend with my girlfriends while we do nothing but refill our beer coozies in between eating copious amounts of nachos makes me go, "Naw, that's for wussies. Let's go to West Virginia so we can go hike 20.7 miles in the mud and while we're at it, let's see how many animals we can kill with my van. Now THAT's a girls' weekend. As long as there are gnats. Don't forget the gnats."</div>
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My bud, Candi, and I drove the seven hours up to the "West Virginia" where along the way, we did fun things you do on a girls' weekend, such as carbing up at the Cracker Barrel and enjoying retro gum you can only buy at the Cracker Barrel like Freshen Up, which is weird and wonderful and then immediately disappointing. Unlike Cracker Barrel. That junk's awesome.</div>
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YOU MUST FINISH YOUR PLATES BEFORE YOU CAN GET BACK IN THE VAN.</div>
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I really, really love talking about food and pictures of food but most of all eating the food.</div>
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We arrived at the Canaan Valley Resort which was undergoing renovations, but it was gorgeous. And then we looked to the left and saw where we were staying on the property. Which was a place called the Woodcock Lodge. Woodcock Lodge has not been renovated yet. Woodcock Lodge is not so gorgeous. Woodcock Lodge is probably where they filmed Psycho. This part of the place should be called the Bates <strike>Motel</strike> Resort. </div>
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The animals must have been well-fed because they would have come into your room had you left your door open long enough. I prefer my animals terrified of me. Unless they are Disney animals who are coming to clean your house or sew you a dress or something, in which case I'd be like, <i>Can I get you a drink or do you want to get the dusting out of the way first? </i></div>
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And then there's the part where you go to throw your trash away and something takes it from your hand. Then you have to go change your underwear. Always pack extra drawers on a girls' weekend. I almost wrote "panties" but then the internet would get their drawers all up in a bunch because it <a href="http://www.theatlantic.com/sexes/archive/2013/02/why-the-word-panties-is-so-awful-and-what-to-do-about-it/273224/">collectively hates the word panties</a>. Side note: if you have time to write posts about one of your biggest issues being that you really hate the word <i>panties</i>, maybe we could switch brains for a while and you can huff and puff about childhood cancer and I can take a break from real life. I would like to think about what words really make me feel icky! </div>
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I think raccoons stealing trash from your hands are icky. You know he's going to die in there. Those openings only swing one way to death. Now I'm feeling sorry for him. Next time I'm going to throw away like half a Cinnabon so at least his last meal is memorable. He'd probably go into a diabetic coma before he has the opportunity to choke on some junk food cellophane, which is definitely not what I was throwing away. Promise. It was health food cellophane.<br />
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We got to sleep in compared to our <a href="http://evegriffith.blogspot.com/2013/06/benjy.html">Foothills hikes</a>, almost till 3:45 a.m. It was nice. It wasn't pitch black when we got out there, either, which was kind of jarring. I kind of like almost killing myself because I can't see where I'm going. No, wait. I mean I like sleeping in and not almost dying. Duh.<br />
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This is the beautiful Dolly Sods Wilderness. You should do this with me next year. You know you want to. <i>I</i> know you want to. You may not <i>really</i> know you want to yet but you do. Trust me. I'm always right. Panties are in.<br />
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Look, dude, we're IN THE CLOUDS!<br />
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It was probably raining underneath of us. Since we were walking on the clouds and everything. I was surprised that it wasn't brighter up there with us being that close to the sun.<br />
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There was one point at which I couldn't even figure out which way the trail was because we was just on boulders. I just kept following the guy with the GPS around his neck because OH MY GOD WHERE DID THE TRAIL GO. QUESTION MARK.<br />
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Maybe the trail is o'er yonder. Who put the boulder o'er yonder over there?<br />
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No more rocks here. Just fifteen inches of trail. Width-wise. That'd be a really short hike the other way you read it. THAT WOULD NOT BE ULTIMATE.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3Q1s2hDh2VG_sxIWle883uFVJLmhnV1A2UOUay27Eqv0-z_K4fngj_ys2KHtJ2eOIo0n4J9Y-fq9RDcsjq6x0sBxlKT0goYAdq182fON_ZWc_mCrLsaxKgPoD02owB1Px4PF3twp9-M/s1600/1043860_10200740987901542_597968715_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3Q1s2hDh2VG_sxIWle883uFVJLmhnV1A2UOUay27Eqv0-z_K4fngj_ys2KHtJ2eOIo0n4J9Y-fq9RDcsjq6x0sBxlKT0goYAdq182fON_ZWc_mCrLsaxKgPoD02owB1Px4PF3twp9-M/s320/1043860_10200740987901542_597968715_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Here's me and my mom. You and your mom should do the hike next year. You know, that hike you really want to do but just don't know it yet? Your mom does, too. Also, my husband, Matt, will be doing this next year with me. He doesn't know it yet, either. Well, he probably does now once this hits his inbox. My dad can't do it, though. He just broke his foot. You gotta know your limitations.<br />
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There were so many creek crossings. I loved them all. Creek crossings are my faaaavorite. Sometimes I ask myself if Jesus might have just been walking on some water-covered rocks, because that would have made the most sense from a scientific perspective. He was probably just doing it with quite a bit of panache.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaybD4W3zJY3PU_2RnTLGJae_p780qk6toGUf9zUrpOaFEHIsr7MFOY6Mh-PE0uZZYtCOyv9a_ea74lDJtU48BuOJ0h7sz-VlPsMaEtcWQqySKPkqSJUNR2B9LRD7NIJguK6U0aEsXgic/s1600/1010439_10200740988941568_1085576021_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaybD4W3zJY3PU_2RnTLGJae_p780qk6toGUf9zUrpOaFEHIsr7MFOY6Mh-PE0uZZYtCOyv9a_ea74lDJtU48BuOJ0h7sz-VlPsMaEtcWQqySKPkqSJUNR2B9LRD7NIJguK6U0aEsXgic/s320/1010439_10200740988941568_1085576021_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Here are Brecka and Kathleen from CureSearch. They spent hours making pickles dipped in nacho cheese and rolled in crushed Doritos. We all ate all of them. If you think this is gross, you have never tasted it. You also have a really poor gastronomic imagination and I feel really bad for you. You are probably the same kind of people who can't imagine Fritos dipped in buttercream. I don't even LIKE buttercream. But put a freaking Frito in it and I'll have buttercream all over my face.<br />
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Somehow we ended up in the rainforest. The red squiggly Google line says rainforest should either be hyphenated or two words but I don't care. Rainforest looks better as one word. Rainforest rainforest rainforest. I think I gave the Google an aneurysm. It's okay, because I initially really did spell aneurysm wrong. <br />
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So, at this point, we had been hiking for a good while. Let's go ahead and say all day. I was being the sweeper with this other guy, meaning that we were going to be the last ones on the trail so, you know, you don't lose anyone if they decide to go poop in the woods. We were at the point that all our people were like, "How much farther do you think?" And I don't really want to look at my phone and see the mileage because I'm in the "It doesn't really matter because we're not done and we'll be done when we're done" camp. But I eventually do look at my phone and OH MY GOD AT THIS PACE WE STILL HAVE THREE MORE HOURS LEFT. And then I break ahead with some people and tell them we need to move faster if we ever want to get out of these mountains alive.<br />
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The looks on their faces when I told them how many more miles we had to go made me feel like I took their childhood puppy and took it to the farm right in front of them. And then I calmly freaked out and kept trying to get in touch with someone on the walkie talkie to make sure they knew how much longer we'd be. Since we broke apart from the last two hikers, we left provisions and wrote out the name JIM in leaves because that's what you should do if you are shipwrecked on an island but instead of JIM you should write SOS and instead of writing SOS in leaves, you should probably do it in rocks or maybe even coconuts if the others on the island haven't already gotten to them first. There are always others on the island. <br />
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And then the mileage on my phone didn't look that much different when we finally got in touch with Brecka on the other end of the walkie talkie and I may have led everyone to believe we were either going to be a very long time or we would all be dying in the woods. But I forgot that if you can reach someone on the walkie talkies that we get to use at Ultimate Hike, that means you are like fifty yards away from them because they are definitely not something you could rely on in a crisis situation like what we were apparently not in.<br />
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And then as we bounced out of the woods onto the finish, my phone burped really loud and all of a sudden was like, "Just kidding. Here are those 6 extra miles you were looking for."<br />
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Crisis averted. And girls' weekend kept on keeping on because Candi had an adult beverage waiting for me at my van. Which hyper-activated my hiker's high and I could see in my head that I wasn't about to shut up anytime soon about how that was the BEST, MOST FUNNEST HIKE I'VE EVER BEEN ON IN MY LIFE. This is the hike I had always envisioned when I signed up for Ultimate Hike. I didn't want to die on this hike. I loved this hike. I didn't even cuss on this hike, except that one time to let the ladies know in front of me that I could literally see their asses melting away.<br />
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Also, there was so much mud. I really liked the mud. I LOVED the mud. No mud, no glory. Plus, scrubbing mud off your weary body is a good way to forget about the fact that you are showering at the Bates Motel.<br />
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This year we get medals when we do the hike. I will give the first person who can turn this into a Wheaties picture a high five and even some pickles dipped in nacho cheese and rolled in crushed Doritos.<br />
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And here are me and Candi, in front of the van that had half of what Dolly Sods had to offer on it's body: dirt, dust, mud, and maybe also the remains of one chipmunk, one fox, and a squirrel. But seriously, if you actually do hit a squirrel, it obviously had a death wish. And we were there to save kids, not rodents.<br />
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My girls' weekend burned way more calories than your girls' weekend. Especially if you are a boy.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-74796066264801654762013-08-21T01:04:00.002-04:002013-08-21T01:04:24.830-04:00The very last preschool payment...can now go directly to Duke!<br />
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Or more likely it went directly to the preschool and <i>now </i>we are free to redirect funds to the hospital. But you get the point. My Taco Bell budget may have slightly increased as well.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9560443218/" title="diploma by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="diploma" height="320" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2818/9560443218_47b9957269_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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<a name='more'></a>After the graduation ceremony, Eve got to play while I slowly realized that every other mom in line with their kids for the inflatable slide is talking about how they <a href="http://evegriffith.blogspot.com/2013/05/more-flotsam-more-jetsam.html">didn't believe their kids when said kids complained of sores in their mouths</a> and days later figured out they indeed had hand, foot, and mouth disease.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9557654993/" title="slide by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="slide" height="320" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5476/9557654993_6d3d6b61ea_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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So, not only do I get a few extra tacos each month, but now I am vindicated from bringing patient zero to preschool. It's a pretty good day for me, even though it sounds like some other ladies are trying to steal my Mother of the Year thunder. YOU ALL CANNOT BE POSITIVE IT WAS YOUR CHILD THAT BROUGHT HAND, FOOT, AND MOUTH TO PRESCHOOL. STOP TRYING TO BRAG.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9560446412/" title="christy and eve by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="christy and eve" height="240" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5460/9560446412_07829f4da7_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Eve is totally sad that her preschool teacher, Ms. Paige, won't be her kindergarten teacher. Ms. Paige likes to give the kids multiple helpings of cake and passes down to Eve very nice clothing that wasn't purchased at places that also sell groceries. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9557656065/" title="eve paige by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="eve paige" height="320" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3791/9557656065_25d9d612e9_n.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
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Eve's hand-me-downs are nicer than anything I have in my closet, and are also less stained. Note-to-self: pre-treat shirts immediately after Taco Bell runs from now on. <br />
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Additional note-to-self: Be more clear that by "Taco Bell runs," you do not mean what it looks like you might very well mean. To be clear, I am not talking about poop.<br />
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Each parent was given a picture of their graduate with a sign that says what they want to be when they grow up.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9557665933/" title="when i grow up by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="when i grow up" height="400" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2851/9557665933_c4331eb986.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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I showed this to Eve's oncologists but haven't received any "Aww, oh my goodness that's the mostest sweetest thing I've ever seen!" discounts as of yet. So I guess it's okay that Eve now wants to be a dentist. Maybe they'll offer some free fluoride or something since Duke couldn't be bothered to throw in a discounted CT or anything.<br />
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Which brings me to CT scans.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9560499604/" title="what? the last one?? by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="what? the last one??" height="320" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7307/9560499604_4651096a02_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Did I mention that Eve just had her last CT ever? She was actually pretty upset later when I told her there would be no more rides in the donut machine. Also, interesting to note that the unknown deity who is behind the red squiggly you-just-misspelled-something line thinks that <i>donut </i>is not a real word but <i>donuts </i>is.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9557703403/" title="last ct scan by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="last ct scan" height="320" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2843/9557703403_37eed63f16_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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She will still have ultrasounds and x-rays at each visit for the next couple of years but it's almost like cutting out the CTs means I can get even MORE tacos each month. SCORE.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9560497052/" title="holding her breath by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="holding her breath" height="320" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7295/9560497052_8e372c63a1_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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This is the last time Eve had to hold her breath while they check out her lungs. It's kind of like a good substitute for the swimming lesson money that I spent at Taco Bell.<br />
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Just kidding. She can swim. And I can afford an eighty-nine cent taco without having to risk my kid drowning. You know, because we don't have to pay for preschool anymore.<br />
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But for real. There were victory tacos.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9560502768/" title="victory tacos by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="victory tacos" height="320" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5456/9560502768_7f8841b401_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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And they were goooood. And I deny any link in the future that is found between Meximeat and cancer. What's next, climate change? Pfft.<br />
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With a whole month off between the end of preschool and the start of kindergarten, I filled in Eve's days with activities such as Safety Town, which is a camp that teaches kids to not run in front of moving cars and don't take candy from strangers and that green means go, red means stop, and yellow doesn't mean speed up, Mommy.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9560510072/" title="safety town by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="safety town" height="320" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7326/9560510072_323304cc12_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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However, the only thing Eve remembers from her week of Safety Town is that we went out for lunch at the Olive Garden one day afterward and that the salad is like "seriously, totally awesome." Money well-spent.<br />
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While Eve was gallivanting around with giant McGruffs and bottomless baskets of breadsticks, Natalie and Daniel were finishing up first and second grade. And Daniel wanted to make sure he was handsome for the end of it all. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9557722687/" title="dan bowtie by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="dan bowtie" height="320" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2882/9557722687_503a771efe_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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I will happily safety pin any paper bow-tie he brings to me for the rest of his life. Don't tell the girls, but when he's wearing a bow-tie, he's automatically my favorite. And also when it's time to brush hair in the morning. <br />
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We all have favorites. Mine change on a daily basis. The only time it's a tie is when they are passed out.<br />
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I digress.<br />
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No, wait, I don't! They are also all my favorite when it's the first day of school. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9557698341/" title="first day of school 2013 by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="first day of school 2013" height="320" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3770/9557698341_47eec86c66_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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I can't believe it's Eve's turn to have a giant neon index card with semi-pertinent information safety-pinned to her shirt. <br />
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And go ahead and ask it: WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH YOURSELF ALL DAY NOW THAT THE KIDS ARE IN SCHOOL? This is not at all an obnoxious question to ask, right along with DID YOU PLAN TO HAVE YOUR KIDS THAT CLOSE TOGETHER? (Because both Matt and I agree that it is definitely appropriate to ask about our sex life. Perv.)<br />
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I'll tell you when I find something meaningful to do beyond <strike>throwing away my children's possessions unawares</strike> cleaning while they are at school. But there will be <strike>blood</strike> Taco Bell since it's in the budget, now. If Matt asks, it's probably listed under miscellaneous.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-49440391150031464322013-07-22T23:23:00.000-04:002013-07-22T23:24:31.410-04:00You should be dancing...because you'd be burning more calories than you are right now on your internet device.<br />
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Unless you are pinning low-fat recipes and 30-day squat challenges. Go on with your bad self.<br />
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The girls had their dance recitals a little while back. They burned way more calories than I did in the audience. In my defense, I was incapacitated with a migraine during Eve's show. I did little more than hold an ice pack to my head as lots of little girls tap danced really loud to some really loud music and then everyone clapped really loud and did I mention it was really loud? I popped Imitrex after Imitrex to no avail. Probably because it had expired two years before. <br />
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I put important medicine in random boxes and then hide them around the house, only to find them years later.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9348747970/" title="bomb shelter medicine box by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="bomb shelter medicine box" height="320" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5539/9348747970_7c3cd99a3b_n.jpg" width="180" /></a><br />
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Now THAT's where my birth control went.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9345956305/" title="now THAT'S where my birth control went. by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="now THAT'S where my birth control went." height="180" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7416/9345956305_25882632d4_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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It's okay. I'm glad I lost track of it. I like going to dance recitals.<br />
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Eve was in a ballet dance to a song called <i>Cinderella</i> which is a country-ish ballad designed to make you cry. But I didn't because my hormones were all in-check since I haven't been taking my pills since 2004.<br />
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A to the double W, y'all.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9348824232/" title="eveballet by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="eveballet" height="320" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3709/9348824232_928b0a36b4_n.jpg" width="224" /></a><br />
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Kind of makes you not mind never remembering to buy reasonably priced flowers before you get to the recital, only to remember that you didn't buy reasonably priced flowers when you get to the recital as you are standing next to a flower broker that probably earns more on recital weekend than I did the whole of 2004. Which was the last year I worked. On account of me losing track of my birth control.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9346043003/" title="eveflowers by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="eveflowers" height="320" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3807/9346043003_7e2445702b_n.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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Natalie was in the bigger recital(s) which meant that we got to watch six hours worth of dancing which was not only really fun to watch but also really made your butt start to ache. That's why I brought candy. It will make your butt feel better. It's true. I read a whole study on it in <i>Lancet</i>.<br />
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Nat happened to be dancing to a Cinderella-song as well- <i>A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes</i>. Her dance was not designed to make you cry. But it would have been okay if it were designed that way because I had candy. You can't cry with a mouth full of Haribo. And thanks to Wikipedia, I now know that Haribo is a German confectionery, not the Japanese confectionery that I had always imagined it to be. Now you know, too. You're welcome. <br />
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I apparently didn't make a video of this dance but it was pretty. I must have been too preoccupied by the Haribo and was just watching the entire dance through the viewfinder while the camera was on standby. Also, I found myself distracted by people holding up iPads to record things. If you carried around a camera that large, people would just say you look really silly. If you carry around an iPad to film events, people are going to blog about how you look really silly. Please stop looking so silly in front of me while I am eating my gummy bears. I can't see my kid around your silliness. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9348883510/" title="natballet by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="natballet" height="213" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3770/9348883510_f54f533eaa_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Natalie loved dressing up like an orphan. Just like we found her when I lost track of those pills.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9346100085/" title="fisticuffs by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="fisticuffs" height="213" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3731/9346100085_0044125deb_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Fisticuffs! <br />
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It seriously can be a hard knock life. Especially when I run out of gummies and there is a row of giant glowing tablets hovering in the air in front of my face. It makes my pupils get all wonky and I want more sugar and OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU FILMING THE ENTIRE SHOW WITH THAT IPAD?? They made video cameras in the 80s that housed VHS tapes that were less obnoxious than that.<br />
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But I digress. This is not about a post about birth control or German gummies or people who think it's perfectly acceptable to hold a glowing 9.5 x 7.3" rectangle up in the air with elbows straightened. It's about the orphans. You know, the ones that you forgot to go to the store and buy reasonably priced flowers for before the show.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9346090613/" title="natfloweres by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="natfloweres" height="213" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7318/9346090613_12184b279e_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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I love my orphan. I'm so glad I like to hoard pills and hide them from myself.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9348871336/" title="natjumps by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="natjumps" height="320" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2811/9348871336_32bb3d638a_n.jpg" width="213" /></a>Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2144432922282567277.post-25841203896278551472013-07-08T11:32:00.000-04:002013-07-08T13:14:13.389-04:00Ten steps to a kick-ass 90th birthday party:1. Assemble family members around birthday girl. Get a photographer to follow you around. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9240724932/" title="family by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="family" height="320" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7409/9240724932_8d0651789e_n.jpg" width="314" /></a><br />
<a name='more'></a>Matt's aunt paid her buddy from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Mad.Skillz.Photography">Mad.Skillz.Photography</a> to be our pal for the afternoon. Sometimes it's okay to buy your friends.<br />
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2. Throw kids on ground. Get photo of that before they get head lice from school. Make sure someone gives that picture to Grandma.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9240701526/" title="kids by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="kids" height="256" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7352/9240701526_6f77a4ae38_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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3. Get the birthday girl into the Scrabble-themed party room her family lovingly decorated. Because that's bad-ass right there. <br />
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Make sure you and your sister-in-law make fudge and sugar cookies at 2 in the morning before this party, because you know that old people really like fudge and sugar cookies. Also, make sure to go to Cracker Barrel on your way to the party and buy up all the old people candy like licorice, lemon drops, and butterscotch. It will be awesome. Old people and young people will love it. It's only the middle-of-the-road people who really have to worry about their teeth.<br />
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4. Bring a Scrabble cake on a turntable, duh. It's a Scrabble party. A Scrabble-Deluxe Edition party.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9237915391/" title="scrabble cake by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="scrabble cake" height="228" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5506/9237915391_aecd199496_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Make sure that you end up cutting all those tiles twice since you probably want to replace all 225 of them before the party since the humidity will make the first batch all wonky. Ignore other people who say that most of the guests can't see that clearly anyway. IT'S A SCRABBLE-DELUXE PARTY. Not the Big Lots version.<br />
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5. Be glad that you replaced the tiles because the birthday girl is inspecting it. <br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9237938891/" title="grandma cake by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="grandma cake" height="213" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3816/9237938891_3f0f5abdc3_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Go along with the flow that Grandma thinks the senior village she lives in orchestrated the festivities. Marvel at how they knew she loves Scrabble and how nice it is that they did more than they usually do for other residents. She's Grandma. She can do, say, or think whatever she wants. That's what I'm going to be if I get to 90.<br />
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Or maybe even 40.<br />
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6. Decide against putting 90 candles on the cake in a building with so many oxygen tanks.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9237964015/" title="candles by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="candles" height="320" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7428/9237964015_497fb1fd69_n.jpg" width="319" /></a><br />
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7. Use great-grandchildren as servants.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9237901137/" title="serving boys by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="serving boys" height="320" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3716/9237901137_8fa5870439_n.jpg" width="229" /></a><br />
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Old folks eat that up. Middle-of-the-road folks do, too. Basically, I'm a fan of anyone doing anything for me.<br />
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8. Do the Charleston. It's a PARTY.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9240736606/" title="dancing by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="dancing" height="320" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3834/9240736606_f9bbb17a02_n.jpg" width="213" /></a><br />
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9. Have a Scrabble tournament. IT'S A SCRABBLE PARTY.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9240690606/" title="scrabble tournament by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="scrabble tournament" height="213" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7285/9240690606_91cc90e0d1_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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10. Throw back like you're 90.<br />
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<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/16008340@N08/9240708122/" title="grandma laughing by messy_chef, on Flickr"><img alt="grandma laughing" height="213" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7354/9240708122_f60e2bb0c2_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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Be awesome with yo' bad self, Grandma.Christy Griffithhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12475545289065722666noreply@blogger.com0