Yesterday started out like any normal day, my amazing neighbor brought over her juicer and we did what any two high functioning housewives with a penchant for bubbly do...we juiced oranges for mid day mimosas. What did you think we were going to do?
In our defense, she brought over other stuff to juice, like healthy stuff that we most definitely didn't juice. Priorities.
Today, I woke up, did the womanly stuff like cleaning the kitchen, laundry and what have you. Then I sat down to watch some Netflix. In doing so I stumbled upon Fat, Sick & Nearly Dead. It's a documentary about one man's pursuit for a healthier lifestyle and to rid himself of autoimmune issues by healing through juiced fruits and veggies. I've heard of juicing before, never given it much thought though. We've discussed buying a juicer plenty of times. In fact, it was one of the reasons we stood in Macy's for 30 minutes while deciding if we wanted a Ninja or not. We went with the Ninja but thoughts of getting a juicer have never been too far from our minds.
I was in shock and awe of this documentary. Autoimmune diseases have a special place in my family. When Joe Cross mentioned being on Prednisone, a steroid my mother frequently uses when she's having an MS attack, it resonated with me. This man went from being overweight, on a high dose steroids, and dealing with a sometimes crippling disease to changing his whole lifestyle to start taking care of himself and really living. About 20 minutes til the end, my husband came home and watched the rest of it with me. It took all of 5 minutes for us to decide what our next investment would be.
Taaa-daaa! We had our very first juicing experience (other than the mimosas) tonight. I took pictures because in this day and age, "Pics or it didn't happen!" There was a lot of inappropriate talk of being shot in the eye, not getting rid of the white stuff, squeezing and just about all the other innuendos you can think of. There was juggling of oranges, peelings of lemons, puppies in the kitchen and more inappropriate banter because I seem to hang out with people who are equally as crude as myself. Which is fine by me, because if you aren't aware already, I happen to find myself incredibly entertaining.
Our ingredients.
The husband, doing as he's told.
The neighbor, also doing as she's told. She goes by Erin most of the time or The Neighbor. Sometimes I like that because it sounds chummy.
Oh hush. Don't even act like you know anything about removing labels from spaghetti sauce jars. It'll come off eventually. I'm lazy, you know this.
That would be a puppy head, in the kitchen where he clearly should not be.
Zach made the Post Workout Punch. He enjoyed it so much, he made another!
I feel the need to address the spot on my shirt. It's ice cream and I'm unashamed. You feed that PMS monster whatever it wants. Even if it's a double scoop of Jamocha Almond Fudge immediately after purchasing a juicer. To quote my husband "You see the irony in this, right?" I do Zachary, I do.
The odd little Guam family that juices together, drinks out of spaghetti jars together.
I think it's been decided that Zach and I will do a juice cleanse once I get back from my vacation (if I can ever get a flight). I apologize for the quality of these photos, my camera is packed up in my carry on and I have no desire to mess with that jigsaw puzzle for the sake of better quality pictures.
Happy juicing things that aren't steroids!
Xoxo
Riley Writes
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