Summer Means

I’m alive! Oh, I guess you probably already guessed that by the fact that guest posts are still going up weekly. Unless you think I’m really organized and I’ve got those loaded a month in advance or something. Trust me, I’m nowhere near that organized. Monday nights usually consist of me scrambling to finish editing and loading the guest post, while Chef cooks me dinner. Tough life, I know. And don’t worry, Chef and I have a contingency plan should I die suddenly. He has the password to the blog and will make sure you all know where to send flowers. Okay, that’s morbid. But in case you are curious, I’d prefer cabbage roses and peonies. Thanks in advance.

As you can probably guess by my lack of posts, things have been pretty crazy lately. For most of this summer, I’ve been traveling to Mississippi for work every week. I’m doing some pretty interesting and inspirational work, but I gotta tell you, it gets exhausting traveling so much. A few good things have come out of my trips to Mississippi, though:

• I’ve finally reached a “status” with frequent flyer miles. The best perk that comes with my status is that Delta automatically upgrades my seat if there are open seats in first class. Before this, I’d never even imagined flying in first class. I just looked enviously at all the first-classers as I trudged my way to the back of the plane. Now, I get to be a first-classer about half of the time! I still get stupid excited – it never gets old.
• I can now successfully spell “Mississippi” without spelling it aloud in a child’s sing-song voice: Miss – iss –ipp-i!
• I have established two theme songs for my travel: Mississippi by JJ Grey & Mofro http://youtu.be/2uplEIK9NjI and Jackson by Johnny Cash http://youtu.be/nzhzCF77GDo.
• I watched The Help the other day and felt like I had some insider knowledge on Mississippi.
• I discovered Bop’s Frozen Custard. My love for ice cream is well documented on this blog, and I have to admit to being pretty picky when it comes to the frozen stuff. So when a coworker told me I must try Bop’s Frozen Custard in Jackson, Mississippi, I didn’t have high expectations. I was incredibly wrong. Bop’s became my Friday treat every week in Mississippi.

Bop’s is a drive through restaurant. I eat in my rental car. I refuse to feel guilty for the calories or the potential for making a mess.

Here’s the menu

Is this not the most beautiful fast food hamburger you’ve ever seen?

Now this is what I came here for. Bop’s Frozen Custard has now entered my top five favorite ice creams.

• I’ve learned about all there is to know about the Atlanta airport (where I always have a layover), including the best concourses for shopping, eating and purchasing illegal cupcakes.

Okay, let me stop there and tell you the cupcake story. Illegal cupcakes, you ask? Sounds intriguing, I know. Well the other day, I was in the bathroom in the Atlanta airport when I overheard a conversation:

“We could do a yellow cake with strawberry frosting. Or do you like cookies and cream better? How many people are you expecting?” a woman asked.

Another woman’s voice replied, “About 10. I’m thinking a small round cake would be perfect. Do you make carrot cake?” The women continued to talk about cake flavors, frostings, serving sizes and decorations.

When I walked out of the stall, I realized it was the bathroom cleaning lady talking to another woman.

“Ya’ll better stop, you are making me hungry,” I said to the women.

In one swift motion, the cleaning lady lifted the fabric on her pushcart to reveal dozens of beautiful cupcakes. “Two for $3,” she announced.

I weighed the pros and cons. Here were some delicious looking cupcakes, but who buys cupcakes from a cleaning lady in an airport bathroom? What if they are poisoned? Or worse – what if they are gross and I just blew $3? What will my friends and family think about me if I buy baked goods next to a toilet stall?

Despite all my doubts, I found myself paying the lady and walking out of the bathroom, two beautiful cupcakes in one hand and the woman’s business card in my other. (The business card was a nice touch – it not only gave me a way to find her later, it helped me justify eating cupcakes bought out of the bathroom. If she intended to poison me, she wouldn’t leave a calling card behind, would she?)

Of course, now I needed a drink to go with my cupcakes. I went to this little kiosk to purchase water, and the cashier eyed my cupcakes enviously. So, I offered her one. I didn’t tell her they were from the ladies room in the next concourse. Whoops.

I sat down with my single remaining cupcake and started to remove the wrapper when it hit me. This cupcake was red velvet. Biggest fail ever. I hate red velvet cake. I hate that it’s just weak chocolate dyed red. I hate that it always has that cream cheese frosting that never tastes sweet enough to me. It just tastes like cream cheese, and if I wanted cream cheese, I would eat a bagel.

Anticipating a total fail, I bit into the cupcake. And because I’m a relationship blogger and not a food blogger, I’m probably not going to do it justice when I tell you how it tasted. There were these little chocolate chips in the cake, which made for a bit of a crunchy texture, the frosting was divine, the cake was moist and the cake-to-frosting ratio was perfect.

This was the cupcake of my dreams. I wanted to run and snatch the one I had just given to the cashier back. What was I thinking being so generous?

I tweeted:

This encouraged all kinds of conversation – including a brainstorm to determine what one would name a cupcake bought in the bathroom. The leading contender was Potty Cakes.

And then, I received this tweet from the Atlanta Airport’s official Twitter account:

I laughed so hard upon reading this tweet that I had tears in my eyes. Not only had I just devoured a cupcake sold to me by a stranger in a public restroom, I was being called out by the Atlanta airport. Good use of social media on their part, though! (Fingers crossed they didn’t try and track down the cupcake cleaning lady and get her in trouble!)

I’m looking forward to pre-ordering cupcakes the next time I fly through Atlanta. Anyone want to place an order?

The past few weeks, I haven’t had to go to Mississippi and I’ve stayed in Richmond. You would think I would write a blog post then, but I’m just too busy enjoying summer. I love the hell out of summer. It’s my absolute favorite season. I used to hate summer. Summer meant wearing swimsuits in front of the whole damn world, sweating and time off of school. You see, I was a dork and liked school so I missed it in the summer. It’s funny how my perspective on summer has changed since I was kid.

Now, summer means strawberry picking with Chef.

We picked so many strawberries that we made two batches of strawberry ice cream.

Here’s the ice cream in the works.

And Chef made eight jars of strawberry jam after I challenged him that he didn’t know how to make jam. (I was wrong.)

Chef did a really good job making this jam. I probably shouldn’t have doubted him.

Summer means wine festivals.

And attending weird random activities like pig races.

Here are our contestants! I particularly like the name Tipsy Tiffany.

On your mark, get set, GO!

The white pig takes the lead!

But the black pig is trying to take advantage of this turn.

We’re in the home stretch!

I’m pretty sure the black one won it all. I was laughing too hard to really tell. Am I seriously at a pig race?!

At the end of the day, they are all winners. Here’s their prize at the end of the race.

This summer Chef and I took our first vacation together since we’ve been dating. We went to the lake.

This is the view from my mom’s lake place. Not only am I fortunate enough to go here during vacation, but I can go most any weekend I want. #solucky

And the beach.

Just one of my many shots of the beach in Nag’s Head. I wish I were there right now.

He cooked fantastic meals for me almost every night of our vacation.

Here’s Chef grilling some chicken and vegetables one night. PS, he was very proud of this shirt. It just screams vacation … or tourist …

Summer means eating ice cream out of a cone, fighting the constant battle of the ice cream melting and getting all over your hands. It’s a worthy pursuit, though.

Um, the ice cream looks about the size of my head.

Summer means snacking on the beach. Kettle corn is my favorite beach snack. If you drive to Nag’s Head, you can buy this unreasonably priced and delicious kettle corn from Powell’s.

Long days spent by my apartment pool with a mimosa, a fun companion and the latest beach read round out my summer.

Words cannot express how much I love my community pool.

This summer is a summer like no other. It’s the summer my sister Natasha has her baby. Her due date was yesterday, and I can’t wait to meet the new member of my family. My bag is packed and I’m ready for the call to the hospital!

Zachary will be coming out any day!

This summer I just started looking for a townhouse or a condo to purchase. My apartment lease is up in January, and if I can find something I like, I think I’m finally ready to buy. When I was with my ex fiancé, he said we needed to pay off his house before we bought anything together. So I waited. Then when we canceled the wedding, I considered buying a condo. But I wasn’t ready for such a big decision after the heartbreak. So I waited some more. Then I thought, well maybe I should wait until I have a fiancé or a husband to buy a place with, and I signed a new apartment lease. I decided the other day I’m tired of waiting. I shouldn’t have to wait for a man to help me buy a home. If I want to buy a home, if I can afford to buy a home, I don’t need a man to make it OK for me to do exactly what I want to do.

So I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m writing a bit less this summer. I will write when I have time, when I have inspiration, when I am not feeling lazy, when I have something really important to share, when it is rainy out and I can’t go to the pool. I will write when it feels good and makes my stomach feel warm, my fingers tingle and I can’t wait to see your comments back. I will write when it doesn’t feel like just another thing on the ever growing to do list, when it doesn’t feel like a chore. Writing this post felt great, so we’re off to a good start.

Tell me, what does summer mean to you? Any tips for getting over a writer’s rut? Would you eat a cupcake bought out of an airport bathroom?

Copyright 2012. Simply Solo blog by Catherine Gryp. All Rights Reserved.