Reviews XX

 This review is brought to you courtesy of Melissa, my lovely neighbor.

Review of Angry Orchard Hard Cider Thriller Pack, Headless Pumpkin: This tastes like how I imagine a basic white bitch would taste in the fall. Drinking this will give you a strong desire to put on some Uggs and a cute flannel with leggings and a fur-lined stocking hat. You will then start to question why white women got to claim fall as their thing and will soon spiral into a whole conspiracy theory about it wherein the deep state is pitting the American people against each other and it all started with pumpkin spice and white girls. You will then realize that you have a problem and promptly contact your therapist. So drink this cause it's good for my business. End notes of pumpkin and corn mazes and hay rides and live laugh love signs.

Review of Angry Orchard Hard Cider Thriller Pack, Berry Bewitched:
This is a solidly mediocre beverage. There are notes of berry and apple cider simultaneously, which is as confusing as why Rose did not pull Jack onto the door. It's not the worst thing I've put in my mouth but also not to the level of something I would actively seek out. I would drink this if I had the choice between it and eggnog (made from eggs, the other devil food). Pairs well with middle-aged IDGAF and mindlessly scrolling on TikTok until you get that lady who shames you for scrolling for too long.

Sourdough

 Alas, this is not a post about sourdough.  Well, at least not completely.  It was the catalyst for a lot of things.  But really, I'm here to introduce my chickens.

So how the hell do I go from sourdough to chickens?  Well, there apparently is a sourdough to chicken pipeline that I was not aware of, dating back to the pandemic when everyone decided to start making sourdough.  I did not back then; sourdough was a recent development for me.  Back then, the idea of having yeast pulled from the environment while there was a pandemic going on kinda freaked me out.  But, one day I was bored and decided to grow my own little spawn, named her Aiofe, and we were off.

Then, I was on The Tok and they said that when you start with sourdough and name it and all, your next step is chickens, and then like a whole ass homestead.  So I guess I am right on track with this pipeline of which I was not aware, but fuck it, it keeps me off the streets when I am done with my homework, right?  Plus, fresh eggs so...

Which leads me to the chickens.  The girls.  Not allowed roosters in town because they are loud AF, which is good because the fucking tree frogs are loud enough in their desire to get laid.  They need to be more like fireflies and just flash lights to get laid.  Like goddamn, the loud mouths in the bar are usually the least likely to get consensual sex, so STFU tree frogs.

Anyways, here are the ladies!

Two pictures because her feathers have this really cool iridescent purple/blue to them. The camera does not do them justice. Meet P.F. Chang, AKA Psycho

Coming out the gate with a bang, we have P.F. Chang, AKA Psycho.  I am pretty sure that she is the leader of a small section of the mob, mostly the chicken mob, really, and she will cut you because you dared to breathe the same air she has. She makes Kanye look stable. I am pretty sure she is on the FBI's most wanted list for crimes against humanity.  Or at least all of chicken-kind.  This bird will fuck.you.up.  And don't you forget it.

 Meet Rosalind

Rosalind is completely unbothered by any kind of thoughts.  In fact, her caloric needs are less than the average chicken because there is so little activity in her brain.  Think Hei Hei from Moana.  I am very glad that she is contained by the coop and the chicken run because she is likely to do something like walk off a cliff by accident. At times, she is startled by her own bodily functions.

 Meet Ginger

Original name, amirite?  Ginger is beautiful and she knows it, but it comes across as totally bitchy and shallow.  If chickens had a Mean Girls prom and cheerleading squad, she would totally be on it.  In fact, I did consider naming her Regina. I count her amongst the mildly personality disordered. She is the kind of girl who would have no problem going to college to find a rich husband, then sleep with the pool boy and run off with him when her husband inevitably gets popped for insider trading.

 Meet Esther

Esther is the Boomer of the group.  She enjoys things like liver and onions, Tuesday bridge club, and playing canasta whilst enjoying a nice Manhattan and chicken salad on a lettuce leaf with the girls.  She is also the gossip of the group and has been known to whisper about P.F. Chang's unsavory background whilst clutching her metaphorical pearls.  If chickens wore hats and gloves, she would.  Don't be deceived, though...she once let a boy get fresh with her in his daddy's car before they were even dating!

Meet Edna

Now, Edna is beautiful and also knows it, but she's not a total twat waffle about it.  She's one of those souls that are so innocent and all sugar and spice, but don't let that fool you.  Edna can also bring a grown man to his knees with her black belt ninja moves and actually cusses like a sailor in private.  She enjoys allowing the belligerent men from above to underestimate her because she's all pretty and cute, and then buys their companies out from underneath them in a hostile takeover, all the while smiling and somehow making them believe that it was their idea all along.

Meet Beverly

Beverly is also completely unbothered by any kind of thoughts or things like "common sense" or "any kind of survival instincts". She floats through life not really sure how anything works, but secure in the knowledge that somehow it all does.  She reminds me a lot of Pinkie Pie from My Little Pony.  In fact, if I were to take her Trick or Treating for Halloween, that is exactly what her costume would be because it's scary how an animated cartoon revival from the 80's version has captured her essence in a pink pony.  Her theme song should be Pink Pony Club, but not necessarily because she is gay but because she reminds me of a pink pony from an animated cartoon revival from the 80's My Little Pony.

Meet Ethel

Last but not least, we have Ethel.  Ethel is a retired NASA mathematician whose work was instrumental in the original launching of Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin to the moon.  She doesn't make a big deal of it because she's not an asshole and she understands that people could be intimidated by a mathematician.  She does have great stories, though, about the debate about who should walk on the moon first.  Ethel smokes slim menthol cigarettes and can line dance like a 20 year old.  She does enjoy daytime talk shows as a guilty pleasure and has been known to cry at episodes of Say Yes to the Dress.

Reviews XIX

Review of Smirnoff Ice Sunny Days Cosmic Snow Cone: I had concerns initially looking at the can of this beverage because it kinda reminds me of cotton candy and if this was that flavor, I was going to be pissed because cotton candy is to be eaten (not drank) in a sugar-fueled frenzy that ends with a child crashing in their car seat with an overpriced toy from whatever sportsball/Disney on Ice/carnival they attended gripped in their sticky, slightly dirt-encrusted hands.  Good news, this is not cotton candy flavored so my concerns were for naught.  The can states "cherry and citrus flavored," and yep, that is accurate.  This would probably be delicious frozen.  You know, like a snow cone.  Whoda thunked it? This would pair well with a hot summer day.  Way to torment us Ohioans, Smirnoff.  Summer is still solidly out of our grasp and will be for a while.  I swear to GOD, if they release some kind of Christmas or Fall beverage in July, I just might lose my shit. I need to consume this on a 90 degree day, preferably while in my pool on my Big Joe floaties. Afternotes of I want it to be fucking summer already dammit and God I hate spring.

See? The can on the left.  Very reminiscent of cotton candy.

Review of Smirnoff Ice Sunny Days Lemon Ice: Remember Squirt?  This is it, alcoholic.  Also would taste quite lovely frozen.  It also reminds me of those Italian Ice things you can get at the grocery.  Albeit unfrozen. This beverage is quite fetching. I imagine that if Bridgerton were to take place today, this would be what would be served whilst gossiping about the crazy king and his frigid wife.  Except for Americans elected ours so really we have no one to blame but ourselves for that one.  But seeing as how we are gonna be back to women having no rights and men being ridiculous and settling things by shooting actual guns at each other in a so-called civilized manner, AKA a duel...like seriously, who the fuck arranges for a doctor to be at a gun fight?  Rich men who get their panties in a wad, that's who.  I digress though.  Bridgerton.  Balls.  Gossip.  Sipping Lemon Ice.

Review of Smirnoff Ice Sunny Days Orange Cream Pop: Anyone remember that TGIFriday's beverage, the Orange Dream?  That you had to blend up with ice but it was a lovely alcoholic orange creamsicle?  This is that beverage, but carbonated.  This would also taste lovely frozen.  I'm sensing a trend, but I could be wrong. (I'm not.  I felt the urge to be modest.  Maybe because of Bridgerton above, and that is supposed to be attractive I think?  IDK.) This beverage goes well paired with 90's and early 2000's music, while sitting in your house with brightly colored walls and honey orange oak trim, watching Trading Spaces or The Sopranos.  Pairs well with stuffed crust pizza, chocolate lava cake, low rise jeans, and camis that look like lingerie. And if that last sentence struck a chord with you, then it is time to seriously consider scheduling a colonoscopy.

Review of Smirnoff Ice Sunny Days Red, White, and Berry: Well, here is a bomb pop in a can.  Completing the quartet here, would also be delicious frozen and consumed in the throes of hot girl summer.  Except for my hot girl days are LONG gone and now it's just hot weather.  This is a refreshing cherry/berry beverage, with end notes of berry/cherry and a hint of citrus. And yes, I intended to reverse the cherry and berry there so don't come at me, OK? It should be enough that I do these reviews for free. And since this beverage reminds me of the Fourth of July, it makes me want a hot dog real bad.  And if that last sentence rings a bell with you, you probably have car, purse, AND bathroom ibuprofen. Pairs well with, well, hotdogs and potato salad and spending the next day in bed because you threw your back out playing cornhole and did not have access to said car, purse, or bathroom ibuprofen.

Nick

 I've been postponing this one.

My family recently went through a nightmare.  Specifically, my sister Alicia and her husband Nick were on a cruise when he had a heart attack and died.  Fun fact, dying internationally is a pain in the ass and super expensive.  Not only did we have to deal with the hole that Nick's passing put in our lives, we had to wait several weeks to get his body back and so were in this limbo hell of not being able to go through one of the central parts of grieving, the funeral.  

We were able to get him back before Christmas.  Now, I have to live without one of my coparents.

Wait, isn't Charles your coparent?  Well, yes.  He is a very involved father.  But Nick and Alicia...they were the surrogates.  They were present in my children's and grandchildren's lives.  They were THERE.  Nick was there before Charles was.  He was present for Elizabeth's infancy.  And now Nick is not here.  It still feels unreal, months later.  I can't imagine how my sister feels.  All of the future things with my kids, he will miss. He never saw Charlie play volleyball. He will not see Delilah dance, or Willow grow up.  He won't be there to go to haunted houses with Elizabeth or buy jewelry from her, or watch Jewel progress in her teaching career, or see Alexis graduate from college. There are no more playdates in the backyard, with extreme bocce ball (don't ask...) and beef jerky from a local farm.  I won't have to make him any cakes or cookies for his Knights of Columbus stuff, or curtains for his new office.

There's a hole.

Nick was instrumental in keeping Charles functional after Josh died.  He called him daily for quite some time, as he knew what it was like to lose someone very important. His mother has now had to bury two of her children.  I can't even begin to imagine that. My sister does not have her husband of over 20 years.  I also can't imagine that.  It has always been Nick and Alicia.  Hey, were Nick and Alicia coming out?  We are going to Nick and Alicia's house to watch Michigan get spanked by Ohio State. (He 100% facilitated that victory this year, I can tell you that much...).

I will never understand the why of this.  Nick did SO MUCH GOOD.  He had his faults, of course. Mostly related to his choice in college football teams.  But he also had a big heart.  He did things like driving past a house that I had seen burning down in our town, killing two people,  just to see how bad it was for me, as I had not been able to look myself.  He was a surrogate parent for many children besides my own. He did all kinds of charity work for his church. Roman had imprinted on him and decided Nick was his person. When I told him Nick died, he sat down and just looked at me.  He knew.

This post feels very discombobulated. That tracks.  Just...do me a favor and love your people.  Love them so hard. And live your life.  Nick LIVED. And loved.

Miss you and love you, brother.

Reviews XVIII

Review of the Truly Lightly Flavored Party Pack:

Orange Squeeze: Well, the lightly flavored part is accurate, but I am not complaining. This is a, well, lightly flavored orange beverage. It is pleasant, though I would argue that there is more than just a squeeze of orange in it. A splash perhaps? Though that implies that it is not fresh and I am sure that that was the marketing that they were going for with the Orange Squeeze name. Semantics aside, this is a pleasant beverage with end notes of...wait for it...orange. Pairs well with a thesaurus and the knowledge that you are friendless because you are arguing with yourself over the name of an alcoholic seltzer and no one wants that kind of weird in their life. But this pleasant beverage...you do want this. It's pleasant. I am trying to convince you that I don't own a thesaurus and that I am not that kind of weird. Just go with it, OK?

Pineapple: In keeping with the lightly flavored theme, this is a lightly flavored pineapple seltzer. More importantly, it does not have the flavor of the devil food, coconut, in it, which automatically makes it a win in my book. This is the kind of beverage that will help you through that awkward time of year known as Labor Day weekend, wherein you want to desperately hold on to the last vestiges of summer but also want to embrace fall and are wondering if it is too early to put out pumpkins and dive into the Halloween candy that you already started to buy because if you don't, it will all be gone by the end of September because the Christmas stuff will be out because the world just can't fucking wait for time-appropriate sales of holiday merchandise. But yes, drink this libation and simultaneously mourn summer and celebrate fall. Then make an appointment with your therapist because you probably need it. Bring them some Halloween candy. Then recommend this drink. 

Reviews XVII

Review of Truly Brunch Pack Peach Bellini:

Well my hatred of all things alcoholic peach is well known. And if you don’t know, well, now you know it ranks right up there with most Katy Perry songs, stepping into water whilst wearing socks, and the alt-right in general. However…this is actually good. I did not want to immediately vomit while drinking this. So either I’m maturing and my peach-related PTSD is subsiding (doubtful…) or this is actually good. It doesn’t have that fake peach taste so many other drinks do. Maybe it’s the Bellini part? Idk. I ain’t fancy enough to know off hand what a Bellini is, though I totes googled it real quick. Anyways, drink this. You won’t be sad.
Review of Truly Brunch Pack Cran Sangria: Well, NGL I was nervous as fuck about this given past nefarious deeds Truly has committed with sangria (I’m still confused about the cinnamon…). This, however, is a delectable libation full of light, flavor, and happiness. If I was gonna start day drinking with breakfast, I’d totally go with this. Pairs well with brunch type food, except for eggs cause they are still the devil food.


Review of Truly Brunch Pack Orange Mimosa: this is a fun beverage. Like, you legit cannot be an upsetti spaghetti and consume this. Unless you are some sort of psychopath which means you’ve got bigger fish to fry than if this drink tickles your naughty parts. Undertones of orange, shockingly enough, with a hint of desperately holding onto this beverage with the same grip you are desperately holding onto the hope that the election swings in your favor so you don’t have to relocate at worst. Pairs well with belting out "Don't Stop Believing" despite your family's obvious chagrin and possible bleeding from their ears.


Review of Truly Brunch Pack Rosè: Well this is embarrassing. For this drink, that is. It sucks to be the sole mid beverage in a variety pack but here we are. This beverage has middle child energy…decent enough, but not enough effort put into it to make it truly amazing on its own so it has to work hard to over-compensate for the lack of attention and ends up with crippling anxiety and a desire to attain the unattainable approval of an absent parent so you end up in years of therapy only to realize that you are good enough, smart enough, and doggone it, people like me. It doesn’t matter what you pair with this or what undertones or notes it has cause no one notices anyways.

Reviews XVI

Review of Sunny D Vodka Seltzer Variety Pack:

Tangy Orange: Tell me how this is different from the original that I have already reviewed?  I don't think that it is, but to test this I would have to buy both and that is way more alcohol than I want to have in my house solely for my consumption.  Even though you could theoretically buy the 4 pack of the original and the 8 can variety pack and have 12 total which is the same amount as a 12 pack (like that math I did there?  I've been helping Alexis with her Calculus so I felt like showing off...).  But somehow it feels different.  Plus more expensive and despite having adult money I'm still somehow broke as shit.  So let's just say that the original review stands.  Especially the part about financial freedom.

Orange Pineapple: This beverage tastes like I imagine the concept of a Nice Guy™ would taste if it were a flavor. It's pleasant enough. You will be willing to go out on multiple dates with this guy and you would have a nice enough time. It does not, however, make you excited enough to commit long-term because otherwise you will be destined for a life of mediocrity. You may as well have soup without any salt and flowers without any scent if you decide that this is your favorite drink. Just go on a few dates, enjoy the pleasantries, and move on with your life. And remember, you don't owe it anything just because it paid for dinner.

Orange Strawberry: I really feel like I either need to move on from flavored seltzers or these companies need to come up with different flavors because again, this is just a mediocre flavor.  It does not excite my  palate.  I am not moved to write ballads or sonnets or even a particularly long review for this flavor.  For those of you who are familiar with my Pure Romance days, this is the silver bullet of flavored seltzers.  It's nothing sexy, but will reliably get the job done.  

Recital II

 We have all seen the posts about how parents "don't pay for dance" (or insert whatever sport or activity your child is involved in).  Most parents recognize that their child is not going to go pro at whatever childhood "thing" they do.  We put the kids in these activities for a variety of reasons...sometimes it is to relive your childhood through the kid (in which case, I will see them in my office shortly due to their neuroses...).  Sometimes, it is because the kid really enjoys the activity.  Sometimes it is because, goddamnit, you will not be on your phone all day long and get the fuck up and DO SOMETHING.  But whatever the reason, these posts go on and on about how they are learning all kinds of lessons about teamwork and hard work and heartbreak and successes.

But what about the parents?

I have been a dance mom since 2009.  Fifteen years in a row.  If you count my time with Elizabeth when she was in dance, that total goes up to 18 years.  I've been around, so to speak.  I own a bedazzled and have purchased butt glue and nipple petals and hair mascara and enough bobby pins that I could have probably started a retirement fund from all the recycled metal. I can put eyelashes and a full face of makeup on a sleeping child. I have sat through countless competitions, put thousands of miles on various vehicles, and have an extremely large tote of costumes in the attic as well as an entire room full of trophies.  I have videos of dances from 3/4 of my children.  I have purchased dozens of bouquets, have years of dance programs, and know the local high school's backstage area like the palm of my hand.

There is so much more to it, though.  There were lessons that I learned as a parent.

I learned that I could genuinely care for a group of other people's children like my own.  That I could get super excited for wins and commiserate with their not-so-great performances.  I learned that their successes, not only on the dance floor but in other areas of their lives, could make me burst with pride just like it was my own kid.  That their sadness and grief when life was not so good to them would be mine too.

I learned that there are terribly rude people out there.  People who will try to sneak all kinds of shit over...sitting in seats not their own at a recital.  People who will walk in front of other people when there is a dance on stage.  People who will deliberately stack a dance number to put an advanced group in a younger age group or even a lower level to increase the odds of winning.  People who will go so far as to steal parts of other studio's costumes.  People who will leave a recital early because their kid has already performed.

But I also learned that there are some really great people out there.  People who raise their children to cheer for other studios when they win.  Strangers who will stop to help when you have a child who is injured.  Strangers who will help you when you have two garment bags, a rolling duffle bag, a purse, a portable refrigerator, a huge ass mug of coffee, and a full flight of steps to carry them up.

I learned that it is ok for other women to mold my daughters.  To call them out on their bullshit when needed.  To push them.  To take them to the next level, when even I, their mother, who thinks they are perfect and capable of anything, would not have insisted on it.  That some of these role models would influence every aspect of my children's lives.  That I would cry with these role models when it was all over because it is so bittersweet and that part of our job is over.

I learned that I can arrange multiple bouquets of flowers into various vases, too.

I learned that my husband is the ultimate "girl dad", as much as that makes my teeth hurt to say.  He was a steady fixture at the dance studio until Alexis learned to drive.  I'm pretty sure most of the teachers and staff liked him better than me.  Some of the girls really looked up to him as a father figure and would talk his ear off.  He even once got conned into doing a pushup contest at a comp because he can't tell these girls no (mind you, only a few months post-surgery from a bicep tear, to boot...).

I learned that I paid for dance as much for me as for them.  Because it does take a village.  And bitchez, that village has helped me to raise some phenomenal daughters (and a granddaughter, too, because Delilah is up on that stage as well).

So to my dance family: Thank you for all the memories.  Thank you for helping me to raise my girls.

Thanks.

Reviews XV

Mango Mai Tai Bud Light Seltzer: Ok, this one’s pretty good but that may be because I’m coming from a comp where the bars were closed and I’m still reeling from the hairspray and eyelash glue fumes. It tastes like mango and has no funky end notes. It also is not triggering any of my poor life decisions nor does it leave me questioning my decision making...so win? I’d recommend it, but then you’d have to drink the others cause they don’t sell it by itself I think. What is sadness? The above statement.

Reviews XIV

Review of Bud Light Seltzer Apple Slices Cranberry Apple: I am shooketh, bitchez. This tastes like carbonated cran-apple juice. Strong endnotes of shitty catered wedding food eaten whilst tossing back vodka crans and silently judging the person who is only there because they are likely to put out after tossing back said vodka crans. If you don’t know who that person is, well, mirrors are a thing. Pairs well with walk of shame and penicillin.

Review of Bud Light Seltzer Watermelon Mojito flavor: Tastes like a watermelon Jolly Rancher, but like an off brand called the Happy Farmer you buy at a sketchy gas station in the middle of no where from a fat hillbilly in a leather vest named Bill with a bottle of lotion and a hose sitting nearby. End notes consist of mint and bad life choices.