Did you fire up the grill this past weekend? Burgers for the neighbors perhaps? Do you find yourself in front of The Food Network wondering what in the world Rachael Ray is now doing with a hamburger?
Do you like yours with lettuce and tomatoes? Heinz 57 with a side of French fried potato? Yes, Parrotheads that J.B. reference is for you, and a reference to what can and should only grace one's body as fashion when attending our favorite musical pirate's concerts. Buns to emphasize your buns? Red meat to trim your waist? I introduce the hamburger dress: Can words do this justice? I'll give it a shot. Perhaps Buffet's people should call artist Joy Kampia O'Shell's people. O'Shell's drive to give food "permanence through art" could be the ideal match to create this music man's marketing baby. Based on her site, though, O'Shell does not strike me as one dappling in marketing to the masses.
When those who know me describe me, the term "Fashionista" does not exit their mouths. I doubt it even enters their thoughts. I survive on the basics, trying to steer clear of providing material for fashion magazine "Don'ts." What I do know is that this is a fashion no-no. Moreover, it will cost you all dignity you have thus acquired in life.
Yet, O'Shell's one-of-a-kind frock is not without its worth. For about a thousand bucks (because you did not spend enough on the concert tickets themselves) you can appear the most dedicated member of Jimmy Buffet's Parrothead army in style, unlike this guy.
Eating and not wearing food more of your thing? You are in good company. The Kitchn tackles what I consider an ever-present problem: you've done it, created the juicest burger with accoutrements of its own--lettuce, tomatoes, onions, cheese, and condiments of choice--and leaning in for the first bite or perhaps the third or seventh, you find the bun soggy, sandwich falling apart, and a stain on your new summer outfit. Worry no longer. Study the visual.
On your next night out on the town, dress to impress and leave the cheeseburger out of it. But, on your next grilling occasion, go ahead and wear white and boast your burger bravery; your burger itself will be dressed to impress and rest where it belongs--within and not on your body.
So it's been at least two months since your last post, and your last topic--socks. Your inner voice chimes in, "Really? You want to be considered a serious blogger? You? Really?"
Intimidating? Yes. Overwhelming? Absolutely not. (By the way, I am well aware that this self question and answer seems to be my blogging "go-to" move. Expanding my commentary skill set will be added to the summer agenda.)
Satisfying"the millions and millions" of the Cajun Cowgirl's fans calls for nothing short of self-deprecating humor and spicy sarcasm, a pinch of current events, handfuls of two month recap, and a full dose of grand plans for the upcoming summer. Considering one post's incapacity to handle such a large amount of information, my chi tonight whispers to begin with the Spring events I've skipped. There's been Food Porn; there's been books read and music discovered; there's been a girls' trip, a new grill on the Cowgirl patio, NBA playoffs (which of course carry an overplayed Biz Markie commercial)
and Saturday afternoons by the pool. A clear travesty it would be to return and not begin with wedding bliss of last Saturday: sunflower bouquets, vows exchanged, homemade chocolate-covered Oreo favors, teary-eyed bridesmaids, overbearing wedding planners, hands-in-pockets groomsmen, reunion with college friends, and a glowing bride posing with gentleman of a groom--on a John Deere!
Yep, weddings in Winnsboro, LA hold nothing short of an album full of unique memories. After the 7.5 hour drive Friday night, of course stopping at one of LA's finest eateries (no sarcasm given) and navigating cone-laden back roads with no shoulders bordering deathly ravines (or just ditches) at night in the rain, we arrived fully willing to embrace all things North LA.
"There's only one way in" to Winnsboro Louisiana. From Texas? There are certainly more, and we took the scenic route, even driving our way through the "Nursery Capital of Louisiana." Staying at the Best Western? Not this trip. Oakdale, LA holds one of my "blondest" moments which I had to capture for future embarrassment. Who books hotels for wedding parties on the wrong weekend? Idiot!
We were, however, graced with the pleasure of none other than the Chase Suites, Winnsboro's newest hotel meeting all of your traveling needs including cue-the-scary-movie reception staff and welcoming black cat upon late night arrival. What separates this lodging from competitors is surely the sale of "specialty" towels and hotel (thus used) comforters. For a mere thirty dollars, you can bring all of the luxuries of your Chase Suites stay to the sanitation of your own home. Tempting...
While Friday night jump-started the weekend with an opportunity to catch up with my long lost Michelle (granter of my rock star status) and share the first inklings of what would be a cheek-hurting laughter weekend, Saturday's potential opened strong. After a feeble sleep due to frigid (yes, perhaps a weatherman's magenta status) climate, at least the thick hotel curtains kept the sunlight out long enough to sleep in a bit. Turns out, the A.C. guy in town--top notch. Who knew you can't get warm in North LA? Ever!
How does one begin such a Saturday? Why, with a tasty McCafe of course! Not only were we new to the beverage, but a full 45 minutes later, we were no longer new to the morning coffee scene under the Golden Arches. There aren't many reasons why one might dedicate such time to given scene; however, waiting for Johnny's Pizza to open to grab some old school LA Tech viddles remains one of them.
This trip, one of surprises as noted, doesn't stop there. It's a grab-bag full of fun, and boy what excitement was to be had at a 2 and a half hour Johnny's visit catching up with the LA Tech group. Shivering beneath LA's finest air-conditioning job could not keep these seasoned smart-alecs down. The often-played "That's what she saids," (God Bless us) Holy Communion mishaps and puns, and hotel ammenity quips flowed freely. What began with disappointment over no-buffet Saturday was recovered with friendship, laughter, and a final escape from the air-conditioner's arctic blast!
Ah, Scenic Winnsbobo, "Stars and Stripes Capital of Louisiana" (wow, a state that loves names huh?): We interrupt this post for a graduation message from Walmart...........
More surprises on our adventure? Yes. Turns out, a mobile upload of this bad boy to Facebook perhaps generated more commentary than the going-ons of my own life. Noted: people appreciate oddly decorated desserts and Walmart spelling correctly.
Walmart didn't stop there. While my two compandres (husband being one of them) contemplated buying ping-pong balls for a late night, make-shift, post reception challenge, we found ourselves filling a John Deere gift bag (front and center on the wrapping aisle) with a coconut bra, drink umbrellas, and plastic margarita glasses for our future couple's return to Houston. Great entertainment all around, but no ping-pong balls. That worked out for the best; I'm quite sure.
Returning to 30D with an hour remaining before dressing for the ceremony, we decided patio chatting it would be. Who could resist the view--John Deere reception hall in sight. A great evening is to be had by all!
Arriving at the church left us with: a) great stories to tell, no--strike that, ACT out (Robby later deemed us Masterpiece Theater) before the night was through, and b) plenty of time to capture the beauty of the church, my husband's photographic genius, and um..our friend Chip. (Late night audience please note Peggy with her back turned to the camera.) Once the ceremony began, the church was filled with tears of joy, a proud father's smile, and the love between our bride and groom. May God bless these two beyond their imaginations! Readings, homily, "I do," "I do," "You may kiss the bride...and I now pronounce you, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Riser" and on to the reception!
