My baby brother gave me a Ninja mixer/blender thingy for Christmas which I have been using to make smoothies.
I really need to digress momentarily to explain just how much I detest the word “smoothie”. Firstly, I associate that word with poop, a certain kind of poop experience, certainly not fruity beverages.
Secondly, I lived with my college best friend, after college – you know, the one that ditched me whenever she got a new boyfriend. And while we were living together, she got a new boyfriend. It was hard for her to totally ditch me because we lived in the same house, but she did a pretty good job at it, nevertheless. Anyway, the boyfriend spent the night at our house every night. For months. He apparently did not work, or did not work much, because he was always there. He would get up at the crack of 3pm and sometimes he would make smoothies. I would find him in the kitchen and he would discuss, all chit-chatty, about how he was making smoothies for himself and best friend. Then best friend would come home from work and open the fridge and say, “oh! is this smoothie for me?” And they would be all cute and thank-you-for-the-smoothie and it was all rather gross. In the end, I did demand that he pay some damn rent or chip in on the utilities, and pretty much our friendship ended. I wasn’t being entirely passive aggressive, though. It really was bullshit that this loser was always in my fucking house and did nothing to contribute. When my boyfriend moved in with us – a decision that was made prior to moving into the 2nd house we rented, which we rented with having a 3rd resident in mind, he moved in as a rent-paying, utility-bill-paying roommate. He wasn’t so much a bath-taking or house-cleaning sort of roommate, but at least he turned his paychecks over to us. Fair is fair.
Thirdly… say it… smooooooothie. Horrible.
Anyway, back to the smoothies (swallowing mouth vomit now) that I am making for myself these days.
I took a picture of a smoothie in the mixer that my brother gave me and sent it to him as proof of
life use. You know, so he would know I was enjoying my present and using it and validating him for spending his hard-earned money on me. Here is that glorious (-ly boring) picture:
My counters & backsplash are hideous. I really hope to get new ones someday. Also, my smoothie is not dark brown – it’s kinda purple. Blueberries and strawberries and all my secret health ingredients. Which I also shared with my brother in my text to him. I called my smoothie a superfood. He said it’s what Ninja’s drink. Which was cute. So now, instead of calling them (gag) smoothies anymore, I am calling them ninja food. Because who would not want to eat ninja food?
Also, by way of updating you, my loyal followers (that do not exist), I put dirt (sort of dirt) into my toilet paper rolls on Sunday afternoon. I would say around 2pm? I dirted them, seeded them, and watered them. Then I covered the wine box with saran wrap. And guess what? When I got home today at 4pm, I had teeny tiny baby plants. Because I know how important pictures are to you, I am including one here. Also as proof of life.
48 hours, kids. That is how long it took mother nature to create these tiny little baby plants. There are dozens of them. Pray for them, people. Pray that my brown thumb and house cats and bad memory do not kill them before they get a chance to really live.