“Why can’t we have like a salad?”

 

I forgot my camera and my dad bought a scanner that's essentially worthless, so I've provided this picture of a whole wheat bagel instead. Enjoy.

Well, this is awkward.  See, yesterday, I’m sitting at the Thanksgiving table, enjoying my stuffin’ muffin, when my cousin Max (whom I spanked in Scrabble Thursday night, by the way) asks me, with faux naiveté:

“So, how’s Lauren’s Little Kitchen?”
“Defunct,” I reply.  “Lauren got a job.  Lauren eats a lot of grilled cheeses.”

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  Oh, the Era of Post-Graduate Displacement!  Time was plentiful then.  The gym was never busy and more often than not, I blissfully perused the sale rack at the Gap without some rude carpool mom pushing all those plastic hangers in the wrong direction, shoving cheap v-necks with weird ruffling right into my vulnerable, unemployed little wrist.

Anyway, the point is, apparently people read this thing.  Some even enjoyed it, especially my mother.  To ensure that I am alive and well, she now has to decode my Facebook statuses, which are normally very cryptic, as evidenced below:

“I like tacos”
“why is it 113 degrees outside!!?  i’m enraged.  seriously.”
“why do I sneeze after I run sometimes?”

Wait, what’s that I said?  Could it be?  Yeah…  I like tacos. Ryan actually requests them, and it makes me feel useful.  We make the American kind at home.  They are awesome, what with seasoned ground beef and lime and jack cheese and spicy flour tortillas and beans from a can.  And Cholula, duh.  Very authentic.  We even started a really mature tradition,  the sacred “Taco Tuesday”.

Once, honeycrisp apples were on sale so I bought some. And by some, I mean, the guy rung me up and it was nineteen dollars worth of apples on sale. So I said, "umm okay I'll take half", but I didn't mean it, and I only did it because both Casey and the cashier were being really judgemental and I felt awkward.

Preparation for such an event occurs all day long.  Casey and I send each other messages at work much like these:

Casey:  I need beef.
Lauren:  Yah.  You will get!  At Fiesta!

By the way, Casey is my best friend from when I was little and we had matching everything, including bluish kate spade purses that we wouldn’t be caught dead carrying today.  We did just buy matching kate spade wedges, though.  Casey likes J. Crew almost as much as she likes football.  Similarly, I like tacos almost as much as I like peanut butter.  Oh, In other news, I am thinking about quitting fruit.  My apple consumption is through the roof and Ryan thinks maybe this is cause for my chronic tummy aches.  Whatever.  He’s not a doctor!  Hmmph.This was fun.  Maybe next week I’ll have actual, relevant photographs (or discourse) to share.  But probably not.

Why is peanut butter so much better than regular peanuts? I don't know. But it is.

Happy Thanksgiving.

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Comments
3 Responses to ““Why can’t we have like a salad?””
  1. Monet says:

    Even if this is all that we get…it made me so happy to hear you and your blogging voice! I know you have been super busy, but your words and your photographs always brought a smile to my face (so if you get the time…you should keep this up!) Thanks for sharing, sweet girl. I hope you have a wonderful week!

  2. I hope you had a wonderful thanksgiving 🙂

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