Breakfast Meatza

Sooooo since I just got back from vacation in Lake Powell, I haven’t quite transitioned to real life yet. I hate reality. I have to workout with real barbells instead of just rocks. I have wear clothes that cover my entire ass and wear tops that actually hold my boobs in place. And I have keep track of time. All these things are just silly. I was quite happy with my schedule of working out in the morning with a large rock, wearing a strapless swimsuit during the day, and having no idea what time it was until the sun was going down and my stomach was growling. I think I’m fighting depression. Post Powell Depression. PPD.

Let’s recall some of the water sports at Lake Powell to pull me out of this slump. So every morning after I got in a quick workout, we would head straight onto the wakeboard boat (a Malibu to be exact. they are pretty damn cool) and head out for the morning on the water. We would get straight into wakeboarding or surfing or tubing. I wakeboarded a little, but as soon as I ate sh*t, I got scared real quick. I like wakeboarding, but I like lifting heavy sh*t way more and injuring myself isn’t on my agenda. So I mostly watched others who are good at wakeboarding. The guys I was with seriously have no fear. It was so freaking cool to watch. I don’t know what any of the tricks are called. I think some things are called gainers. Maybe tripods. Maybe cumquats. Yeaaaaaah, I made all those things up.

We then moved onto surfing. I like surfing. I feel much safer while surfing. I wasn’t any good at it, but I did get in a beer bong while surfing. Classy. Let’s rephrase that though. I was surfing, still holding onto the rope, and did a beer bong with probably 1/4 of a beer in it. If that. I hadn’t done a beer bong since my freshmen year of college, in which I swallowed a quarter. Yes, a quarter. Funny joke. Glad that joke didn’t play out this time around.

I then begged the guys to go tubing, but as soon as we got out on the water, I was too scared to go first. For good reason. Two tubes tied behind the boat means danger. Especially when two men are strapped to them. I wish I had pictures of these men dueling away on their tubes, but that would mean I had missed some of the carnage that was left behind the boat. I’ve never seen grown men’s bodies flail so much through the air. It was terrifying. So in conclusion, I never tubed. I wanted to keep my boobs on my body. Another thing I decided against trying was body surfing. I almost peed myself watching it though. These guys would body surf tandem and go flying over each other, shark week style. I love sharks.

Ooooo, I almost forgot the cliff jumping. We did a good amount of that. I’m stupid in the fact that I feel all brave and have the balls to get up on top of the cliff, but as soon as it’s time to jump, I almost poop myself. Not even joking you. I 100% thought I might poop myself before one of the jumps. It would take me 15 seconds to get to the top of the cliff, then a good 5-8 minutes to even jump off. And my cliffs were BABY cliffs compared to the guys. My friends Justin, Scott, Brian, JD, and Ty all jumped about a 75-80 ft cliff and mine was 30 ft. If that. More like 20. But I’m rounding up. I can do that. It’s my blog.

Thanks for bearing through that post. I know I just crapped pictures all throughout your brain. Hopefully it makes you jealous and makes you think my life is more exciting than it actually is. Tricked ya b*tches!

Oh btw, this recipe is delicious. Not even gonna lie this time.

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