FACEOFF, Part 2 (Wine Openers... and whatever it opened)

Wait, what? A wine opener?  Oh, you recall something about kale chips for Part 2? What's going on?

Look. It was kale. Friggin' kale. I don't know what I was thinking. I love the bejebus out of it... but writing about kale? I'd rather watch paint dry than read that garbage, and so would you. Shit, you're my readers you don't come here to be bored, and neither do I.
So.
What happened?
I had planned to not get my drink on tonight,  but wine opened. Clearly... you're not shocked. I'd suffered a two a day workout that exhausted and frustrated me. And my inner WINO broke through.

You needed to know

So I've repeatedly posted meals that were absolutely wonderful, and should 100% be duplicated. No doubt. And I've received the nicest feedback from y'all (yes, it's happening let's all handle my new found love of the y'all) about the meals sounding pretty decent, and easy! Which is astounding because I can not cook to save my life, and I only cook while boozing.  But here comes the confessional, MTV style.

I've felt like a cheat. A fake. I've hidden my disasters from you. I'm sorry. So, I give you..... Judy's Jackassery 1.0. It's seriously shameful but I try unbelievably hard at everything I do and failing is really about the worst thing I can imagine. But here they are. Epic fails.

Dear Diary,

It's been 6 whole weeks since I've had any candy, and I just couldn't live like that anymore. I don't care much for dessert, but I live for what many of my girl friends affectionately refer to as man candy because their husbands love it but they can't stand it. While I was nestled all snug in my bed, visions of  88 cent knock off CVS Swedish Fish, Mike and Ike (tropical and original flavors), and Jelly Bellies danced in my head. Really truly, I had a dream last night about buying bags of the fishes and stuffing them down my face as fast as possible. So instead of pretending I wasn't going to have a break down, I just let the break down happen today. To make matters worse, I was gag gifted a pretttttty class-ay bottle of wine, and I can't help but think it was a natural pairing to wash down the full blown meltdown.

Try a little tenderness

I'm blogging to you from just south of Oklahoma City, on a Wi-Fi enabled flight, god knows how high up in the air.  Which means, I navigated the airport scene... and more than that, drove to the closest major airport 97 miles north of my home. Through some rather bible belty areas in the countryside, might I add. I'm not going to embark on the cathartic rant you're expecting. I don't know any person who would tell you they enjoy the airport adventure, specifically Security. Frequently it's a less than human experience, cattle-like and it's beginning to seem like those that shower and change out of pajamas are now in the minority. I even had the distinct pleasure of witnessing a woman using her tiny dog as an emotional pacifier- tightly attached to her chest via a baby bjorn apparatus, and petting him an obsessively. After boarding my flight, I realized she was 4 feet from me:

I MAED THIS

Quick introduction to my cooking skills, I have few. Quickest intro ever, huh?  Regardless, I really do find cooking therapeutic! While I can teccccchhhhhhhnically cook without music and alcohol, I can't actually tell you that I enjoyed it. So today's meal is a mash up of my "Whoop Whoop Get Happy" playlist, vodka cocktail(s), and a flurry of knives. Aren't you excited?! I know I am!!

Now we can begin.

  I decided on Paleo Pad Thai, we don't get a lot of tasty healthy ethnic food around here, so  I need this BAD.

All ingredients below for entire meal:

 Upper Right:  Hodge podge of ingredients to make Sunshine Sauce to go on Pad Thai
Upper Left: Behold the fuel that makes this all possible
Bottom: Actual Pad Thai ingredients

You need a drink.

I can't lie to you, today started out like shit. I couldn't rectify the nasty of the day, so although I made an agreement with myself to not drink this week, I'm drinking. At 3:52 PM.  Screw it. I did promise that if I were to post about alcohol, I'd have had some alcohol, right? I'm not getting fancy today. This is the old standby:

Tito's vodka, and club soda. I fruited it with 4 cherries.

I like what I like. And the older I get the more I don't just like what I like.... I'll cut you if it's not available at the bar. I'll have an emotional breakdown if the place has only craptastic liquors, bartenders who don't know how to tip that heavy pour, or sweet sweet jeebus, JUST BEER. JUST DISGUSTING BEER. I'll kick you in the back if you take me there.

hahahaha. 

I'm not kidding.

Get on the floor... and do your dance do your dance.

It sounds pretty awful, the saying, To Falling Apart. I mean, even when you googley the phrase, you'll notice some of the descriptors include, "...to drop wounded or dead, especially in battle." and  "...to experience defeat, or ruin."

I mean, DAMN. That SO drives the point home, because it's exactly how that day/week or even a MONTH can truly feel. And it hurts, a freaking lot.