The BINGO equation

The BINGO equation 10

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In addition to cheating on my juice cleanse with coffee and dog treats, I may have engaged on one other small dalliance.

To my credit, it was totally planned.

It all went down on Saturday afternoon while playing BINGO with friends at the local Eagles club.


(I posted this photo on Instagram, and was asked if I was attending a meat raffle. I’ve been informed that weekend BINGO at the Eagles club often times does include a meat raffle. Much to my dismay, that was not the case on Saturday.)

(And yes…the longstanding Minnesota  tradition known as a ‘meat raffle’ is precisely what it sounds like.)

While there was no free meat in sight, there were plenty of cocktails to be had. I knew this would be the case ahead of time and had made a promise to myself: If I skipped my final juice of the day (a hearty mixture of Thai coconut meat, almonds, honey and vanilla) I could allow myself two glasses of wine at BINGO.


What? Technically wine is just juice that’s really old.

The thing about drinking wine smack dab in the middle of a juice cleanse is that the booze will hit you. Hard. It was a matter of mere minutes before I was engaging in my favorite whoops-I-drank-too-much habit.

(Random online shopping, of course.)

Which leads me to “the BINGO equation”.

Juice cleanse + Bingo wine squared = fanny pack

Juice cleanse + Bingo wine squared = fanny pack

That’s right. While inappropriate jeers filled the room at the double entendre of a seventy-eight year old woman calling out “O-69″ in the thickest Minnesota accent you ever did hear, I was busy shopping for a fanny pack.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve been wanting one for months. Little did I know it would just take a few sips of wine (and the disappointment of three back-to-back BINGO losses) to drive me to find the perfect one.

fanny pack

Black quilted AND perforated leather? Gold hardware? On sale for half off? SOLD.

Still think I’m crazy? What if I were to tell you they’re all the rage in Europe, and will be a trend sweeping the states by this summer? Mark my words, fanny packs are about to take the US of A by storm.  Just you wait.

On a related note, I can’t wait to wear this bad boy to the next meat raffle! (It’s also perfect for holding pull-tabs.)

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Coffee + dog food

Coffee + dog food 4

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This weekend, I embarked on the Suja 3-day juice cleanse. I’ve completed three days of non-stop juicing once before, but this time I opted to order the juice instead of making it myself. Purchasing the juices was definitely more my style for the following reasons:

  • I wasn’t slaving away making six juices a day. (Not to mention spending 20 minutes cleaning out our juicer every single time.)
  • The juices tasted better than the ones I made myself.
  • Every last ingredient was certified organic and non-GMO. The juices were also cold pressed, which mean they were more nutrient-dense than my homemade versions.
  • I had an extremely packed weekend schedule, and the pre-bottled juices were perfect for being on-the-go.
  • Because the cleanse was so damn expensive, I managed to muster the motivation to see it through to the end…if only to get my money’s worth.
  • I avoided completely destroying my kitchen and living room in an ill-fated attempt to blend cashew milk.

Overall the cleanse went really well, and I highly recommend  Suja’s products. Their cleanse was about forty dollars less than the infamous BluePrint Cleanse, and seemed to offer a better variety of flavors and ingredients. Also? All 18 juices shipped for free with my Amazon Prime account.

But let’s keep it real…the cleanse wasn’t all sunshine and roses. The morning of the very first day may have been the toughest. I woke up with a pounding headache and growling stomach. I just wanted to eat something. This lead to the first cheat: my daily two cups of coffee.


I justified my rule-bending by reminding myself that I was doing this less for the actual cleansing, and more to kickstart some weight loss.  While caffeine is a “no-no” in the cleansing world, it wouldn’t add to my daily calorie count, so I decided to indulge. I felt better with the first sip, instantly deciding to allow myself two cups during each morning of the cleanse. When juicing in -10 degree weather, such exceptions are a necessity. (The coffee was also a lifesaver as I ended up going out to eat twice with friends. Having a hot cup of joe to sip on made forgoing all the tasty food much less painful.)

The following 48-hours of juicing went surprisingly smoothly. Despite a highly active schedule (which included filming my Body Pump audition video) I felt light, energized, and not at all hungry!

Until I got to the end of day three.

I’ll let a text message conversation from last night explain my other…um…”cheat”.


Okay…let me explain five things real quick:

  1. The donkey rides are completely irrelevant to this blog post, but I thought that part was worth leaving in.
  2. You know those paper thin pieces of “bread” they serve at restaurants that are really  just delicious shreds of fried cheese? THAT is what these dog treats taste like. Only saltier.  And when you’re in the midst of a juice cleanse, extra salty bites of cheese bread is just what the doctor ordered.
  3. Each treat is gluten-free, and just three calories. (And I only had four twelve of them!)
  4. Now that I’m off the cleanse and less hungry, I tried them again  to see if they tasted as good. And they did. I stand by my love for this high quality snack product.
  5. I will not be able to offer my friends the treats as appetizers after all; Jolie, Penny and myself devoured every last one of them.

Have I convinced you yet?


You can buy them on Amazon! (Just saying.)

And that, blog friends, is 600 words on why I should probably never do a juice cleanse again.

(At least just not when there’s an ample supply of “Cheese Please” in the pantry…)


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The Paint Chip

The Paint Chip 12

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It’s official. You will not be reading a “real” post today, as I’m to exhausted from doing THIS:




Scott was doubtful of my ombre staircase from the get-go. After slaving away for six consecutive evenings, I was anxious to hear his final verdict on my spur of the moment paint-job.

“It looks like a paint chip…but I guess it’s alright.”

I’ll take it! So long as I don’t have to paint over those six stripes that took a million years to create, I’m a happy camper painter.

I’d known I’d wanted to use the bottom of our staircase to make some sort of statement, but Scott had shot down my ideas of doing a metallic bronze finish, or covering it with patterned wallpaper. The gradient seemed fairly low-risk as it could be easily undone, and wouldn’t require any additional supplies. The darkest color is the paint we’ve purchased to cover the rest of our stairwell, and the lightest color was left behind by the previous owners — they had used it to paint the dining room walls.

As for the five in-between shades, I simply mixed different proportions of the dark and light colors until I was happy with the results. There was definitely some trial and error involved, but being that I didn’t cause any damage or spill the paint bucket all over  myself/the dogs/our concrete floors, I’m counting this project as a victory. I even made sure to clean my workspace to the point of spotlessness as soon as I was done —  I’m earning some serious paint cred with Scott.

The bad news? After this project I pretty much never want to see a paint brush again —  yet I’ve already committed to helping Scott paint the rest of our two-story stairwell and the garage this weekend.

Yes. The garage. Who actually takes the time to paint the interior of a space designated for parking cars and storing Christmas decorations?

Oh yeah…this guy.


It’s gonna be a long weekend.

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Wait…I’m a grown up?

Wait…I’m a grown up? 12

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Ten reasons I sometimes doubt my status as a grown-a$$ adult.

  1. This morning, I got lost on my way home from the gym. Let me repeat that. I got lost trying to find my house that I have lived in for no less than eight months on the way home from a gym I drive to every day.
  2. I could be perfectly content on a diet of hot dogs, top ramen and those frosted pink and white animal crackers. (And as much as I hate to admit it…I could easily wash it down with a big ol’ glass of Sunny D.)
  3. I don’t know how to use a lawnmower.
  4. There’s an entire section of my closet dedicated to sequins and/or faux fur.
  5. I still get pimples. Lots of them.
  6. GoJane is my online retailer of choice.
  7. I legitimately enjoy a good water park.
  8. I’ve been known to make Scott shut off the news so I can catch up on the latest episode of Pretty Little Liars.
  9. I may or may not be currently planning a tea party.
  10. Britney Spears (circa 2001)  is my hero, style icon, and perky-breasted spirit animal.

If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve outgrown the Frappuccino and have started finding bald men attractive, I’d pretty much be a fifteen-year-old with crows feet. I think my bedazzled, spray-tanned role model put it best:

I’m not a girl, not yet a woman.

Or as Scott would say, “I don’t have a wife. I have a teenage daughter with a salary.”

I’ll let you decide which of those is more accurate.

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