As I was wandering around the grocery store, in a total haze from some weird fall bout of allergies (I could tell it wasn't a cold because my eyes were severely affected), I decided enough was enough. I was in a crisis.Read More
When people use the phrase, "Sunday Funday," my mind goes straight to the pitcher -- a cheap mimosa pitcher shared amongst friends/ yourself. It makes me think of that time we accidentally ordered too many pitchers at 3 Monkey's and I ended up adopting my friend's dog for the day instead of just letting her out. Or that time Lauren and I ended up randomly drunk at Buddy's without much of a warning.
Mimosa soaked Sunday's definitely are Funday's, but sometimes nursing that hangover is almost as fun. I'm not talking about the throbbing headache, because that's never fun, but everything that comes with the Sunday hangover is actually pretty great. Think about it, what's more fun than a perfect excuse to lay on your sofa and use your chest as a plate?Read More
Typically, Sunday's on As Told Over Brunch are for brunch reviews, but this week we have something special for y'all. In the brief two days I spent in London, we tried to fit in as much as we possibly could. I wanted to experience as much culture as we could, which included seeing the Harry Potter bridge (better known as the Millennium Bridge), Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, the Gherkin, Westminster, an indoor market and the London Eye. We then had tea, and decided upon Sunday Roast.
Sunday Roast is either a weekly tradition or a tradition for special occasions, depending on who you are and what your family tradition is. Either way, we were in London which seemed like a special enough reason for a roast. A roast consists of roasted meat (you can pick lamb, beef, chicken or a vegetarian option), potatoes, mixed vegetables, Yorkshire pudding, gravy and some sauce for the roast of your choice.Read More
Imagine: It’s a Sunday morning; you crawl out from under the covers and curse at yourself for not lowering the blinds before you fell asleep. You search all over your bed for your phone (the one you swear you’re going to start putting elsewhere before bedtime). After a brief moment of thinking you lost it, you find it underneath the monopoly of pillows. You blink your eyes open to adjust to the screen and read the messages left for you. You either breathe a sigh of relief, or you quickly delete any proof of illegible texts (because somehow this means they never happened).
You stretch out and suddenly realize it’s like you’ve never been more dehydrated in your entire life. You look towards the door that is just footsteps away from the kitchen… and after 10 seconds of deliberation you decide it’s just too far. You glance at the clock again and debate how long you have until you have to rinse the smoke-smell out of your hair to make it to brunch. You think about making an excuse, but then you think about that smoked salmon benedict oozing with hollandaise sauce and the mimosa that is sure to cure your dehydration. The motivation makes you rise only 10 minutes later than you should have and on begins the process to your favorite occasion with the most likely of contexts:Read More
Recently, I found myself sitting in my car, in dire need of an oil change. I had yelped oil change stations, and there were only a few options that were open on a Sunday. The comments say Jiffy Lube is ridiculously expensive, but when I called Firestone and they said it'd take several hours, and Jiffy said fifteen minutes, I was sold. Upon arrival, they directed my car into the station, courteously escorted me inside, pointed me in the direction of free tea and went right to work on my car. The lady then tried to up sell me on everything from a new air filter (fine, go ahead and make my engine breath again) to a new transmission (uhm hells no).
When it was all said and done, I was there for maybe twenty minutes and paid over sixty dollars ($40 ish for the oil and $20 ish for an air filter).Read More
There's a lot to be said about the pleasure of sleeping in on the weekends. However, as walking has proved more effort than I am willing to expend this weekend due to the injury I incurred in the beginning hours of Thursday, I've been going to bed early and waking up equally as early. Waking up at 8:30 AM on a Sunday morning gives you a whole lot of time that I am frankly just not accustom to having. While I was going to the bathroom at 8:30AM on Sunday, I noticed how dirty the sink was. So I cleaned it (clearly I'm usually too busy to see that, but early on Sunday, it's totally obvious). Then I went downstairs -- had a mild flashback to trying to get down them on my butt in the late hours of Wednesday -- and noticed how much animal hair was on the steps (not to name names or anything, Sam and Bessie). So I vacuumed them. And since the vacuum was already in-hand, I vacuumed the hallways and rest of the rooms as well.
When I went to go clean out the vacuum, I noticed the trash was full. Now's a good time to take that out. And oh what, let me grab that box of trash from the bottom of the stairs that has been sitting there for three months.
When I was putting the vacuum away in the pantry, I noticed we had a pile of toilet paper, which I knew would serve a better purpose being stored in the bathroom. So I brought it upstairs. Then I was going to lay down on my bed (you know, cleaning for fifteen minutes really takes a lot out of you), but then I remembered that I couldn't remember the last time I cleaned my sheets, so I stripped my bed and brought them downstairs to do laundry.
Now I have 40 minutes to waste until they'll need to be dried. Mine was well wash up the dishes, right? Yup, and now that all the dishes are gone, it's really obvious how dirty the countertops are. Just going to scrub those off a bit.
And then I was going to be perfectly content to lay on the couch and wait out the rest of the 40 minutes unproductively, but Sam was outside and I remembered how gross our backyard is. Can't say I weedwacked (or weed-walked as we call it in this household), because my dad once weekwacked and weedwacked his leg on accident and I just didn't want to risk that, already having one leg currently being held together with stitches. But I did at least throw out beer cans and cups from our housewarming party (which was in August).
So then the sheets were washed, and another 40 minutes on the clock until they'd be dry. I was going to sit still and watch some more tv, but I recalled how I'll be in and out of the doctors this week for my stitches, and I didn't want them to accidentally vomit into my wound on account of how gross my toenails are. So I nicely trimmed them and repainted them. You are quite welcome doctors.
Once the sheets came out, I made my bed, and was going to take a nap because I had been so busy all day, only to realize that it was but a mere 11:30AM. Hello, all day, I've still got you. And that's the reason not to sleep away your Sunday.