The Mango Tango

Iced coffee season has arrived, and this morning I was all set to post about my passionate desire to consume the miraculous beverage on a bi-daily basis, along with the many issues that arise when choosing between Starbucks (a tad bitter but i have a gift card!) , Dunkin' (AKA "fruity diarrhea"-Ashley Connors) and the 17 assorted street coffee vendors conveniently located between my apartment and work.

Anyway, i'm sure you want to hear all about it... and if you do, feel free to write.

Right now, i'm alllllll in a huff.

Tonight, yessss tonight... I have sliced me my very own mango! No, i can do better then that. I have taken my mango's cherry! I have danced... the MANGO TANGO.

I'd been thinking about BYO-Mango for quite a few weeks now. I'd been spending $4+ per container on the fabulous little pre-cut mango babies at the local fruitery, and when translated into alcoholic beverage money I was losing out on at least 1 or 2 solidly drunken happy hours.

And so, with debit card in hard I popped into my local Morton Williams and searched for the forbidden fruit. Red mangos! Green mangos! Yellow-reddish-greenish mangos! How does one even tell what a ripe mango looks like? Is ripe mango color common knowledge??! I grabbed a hybrid-colored one, and threw in an avocado for good measure. What can i say? I was feeling adventurous!

I let my mango sit in my makeshift fruitbowl composed of a hot pink plastic appartatus i found in my roommates cabinet, possibly saved from a childhood cookie baking sesson. My fruit sat there for two full days, since I wasn't sure about ripeness or unripeness or mango expiration dates and so on.

On the way home from Brooklyn this evening, I was feeling rather inspired. As we discussed adult ass-wipes and the American Girl Theater, my writing teacher sat on her floor cushion, munching away on what I supposed was self-cut mango. It was like a sign from the heavens!

I rushed off the 6 train and straight to my fruit, awaiting me quietly and looking exactly the same as two days prior.
Not knowing wear to start, I consulted Google for a little advice: How to cut a mango



Cross-Hatching?! They think i can fucking CROSS-HATCH a mango!!!!?

I came really close to crying when I was informed i had to use something known as a paring knife, and picked something from our knife-holding unit that looked like it could possibly cut a piece of grilled chicken. Chicken... Mango... similar..sort of... mmm mango chicken.

I attempted the diagonal slicing technique displayed in step 1, but my mango halves wouldn't budge! I dug my fingers into the mango and surpriiiise... that shit is MUSHY.

After 30 seconds of failing to rip the mango halves in half, i brought out a new knife resembling something in which you may have seen in one of those killer clown movies. I proceeded to slice the shit out of that thing, fingers dripping in mango innards and praying that my roommate didn't walk into the kitchen and catch me in the act and call the fruit police!!

Whatever. Now i'm eating mango in my bed and i am seriously in love and seriously in need of some floss.

I Am The Biggest Loser... in sooo many ways

Alright. So, it's one thing to drunk text the man who slept in your bed last weekend. You might even dial and leave one of those hideous voicemails leaving a detailed account of how horny/drunk/in love you are and then want to hang yourself in the morning when you discover your call log displays 17 outgoing calls, all in the span of less than 10 minutes.
Those things I compleeeeetely understand. Hill, I know you're with me...

However, last night I made a totally different type of drunk dial. This one was made after the consumption of one Sam Adams Summer Ale (YESSSSS, it's back!!!) and approximately four vodka-sodas with lime, and went out to my boyfriend who was spending the night smoking pot and eating assorted asian cuisine on his couch in Queens. It went a little something like this... I think?

Me- Gets brilliant idea and runs into bathroom area
rinnnng rinnnng

Me: Hiiiiiii!!
Ryan: Are you drunk?
Me: Yesssss!!! I have a question for you but feel free to say no if you think it's weird!! (AKA you better not say no or ELSE!)
Ryan: Uhhhhhhh??? okay...
Me: Do you want to go out to dinner with my family tomorrow??


That's right folks!!!! I drunk dialed to see if he would get dinner in New Jersey with Sarah, Boleslav and my Super-Jew parents whom he's never met before!!

If this wasn't odd enough, I proceeded to call my mother so she could change the reservation.
When nobody picked up, I did as any good daughter would do and left a long, drunken, slurred message on my parent's answering machine, which... now when i think about it... uhh, where the hell were my parents on a Friday night at 11pm??
aaaahhhh bad thoughts, bad thoughts.

Let's see. What else?
Ah yes, The Biggest Loser Competition Part 2 is in full swing, and according to which scale I decide to use, what time of day it is, and how many quarts of "low fat" frozen yogurt I've consumed prior to weigh-in, i MAY or MAY NOT have lost 1 pound.

About 3 months back, Krystal and I were tired of our lardy selves, and made a pact to be amazing weight watchers for the next 4 weeks. Whoever lost a higher percentage of weight would be treated to a fabulous dinner by the contestant who just couldn't stay away from Taco Bell. Mmmmm chalupas... and gorditas... saaalivate.

Where was I? ohh yes, so for 1 week in February I ditched my lunch break trips to Bloomingdales and forced myself to elliptical and lift heavy objects, and to my surprise I dropped about 3 pounds.

Krystal on the other hand decided to call it quits when her life was thrown into turmoil over finding a new job, taking care of her obese yet adorable cat Timmy and interviewing crazies off of Craig's List to fill the open room in her apartment.

The competition was temporarily put on hold, but as of last Monday we're back in action!
The terms have been discussed, hmm... and they're exactly the same as the first time except we've become a bit more detailed about the reward:
The winner receives 1 free dinner of.... drumroll pleeease... 'Ridonc Sushi Rolls'
Yep, you know what i'm talkin' about. Spicy tuna on top of shrimp tempura on top of yellowtail sashimi, avocados, king crab, hot sauce, cheeseburgers, your mom, banana republic, etc... and i DON'T want brown rice, thanks!

So far i've tried consuming less than 7 alcoholic beverages on a maximum of 2... errr.. 3 nights per week, as well as making sure I don't hit up Mamoun's in the west village for the most delicious $2 falafel of my liiiife.

My pants are fitting... the same.
My love handles look... cute?

Anyway, i'll keep you posted as the competition progresses.

p.s. i wrote this very hungoverly on a saturday morning, so feel free to excuse any weirdness that may have been blogged. neeeeeed coffee.

Ok, bye!