Dwellable: For the Wanderlust in All of Us

March 19, 2013March 19, 2013 / foodsweatandbeers / 2 Comments

I’m sure it’s obvious, but I’ve got a little case of wanderlust that rears its head now and then. ~~I don’t mind~~ I leap at the chance to hop on a plane or bus or train and go to a new place. Or revisit an old place. Really, I just like places. And with all this bopping around, I’ve been collecting a few different apps to keep my traveling in check.

If I’m driving, it’s always Waze.

When I need to figure out public transportation, despite Google Maps being pretty solid, I am a huge fan of HopStop.

If I’m looking for last minute lodging, Hotel Tonight does the trick.

Sometimes, though, I actually make plans ahead of time. And, in that case, I’ve found a new option. Enter: Dwellable. Ideal for the lady or gentleman who is always planning the next trip. From the comfort of wherever I am (since it’s an app on my phone) I can start plotting out my next journey.

Ooooh where AM I going?!

Dwellable, while still being relatively new, has OODLES of listings in some pretty fantastic places.

Hawaii? Yes, please.

Unfortunately, on the other end of the spectrum, some areas have hardly any listings.

[I am actually ALWAYS the first one to a party. Good eye, Dwellable.]

I found this out when I started looking at places that were a little more likely to get a visit from me in the upcoming year (sorry, Hawaii, we may have to wait until next year…) But, let’s be honest, we all know that I’ll be back in Ocean City, NJ again and again. And, though I may personally have a place to stay there (thanks, Mom and Dad), if I ever want to invite say…. 7 of my closest friends… Well, we might need another home.

Beach Block. You’re speaking my language…

The app has some pretty cool features and then a few aspects that I wasn’t really feeling.

The Pros:

The Design. Seriously, this app is beautiful. Like, remember watching the movie Avatar or Life of Pi and you couldn’t help but think “This movie could LITERALLY be about anything and I’d enjoy watching it because it’s so aesthetically appealing”? That’s how I felt about Dwellable when I first started using it. I just started looking at a bunch of pictures and then realized “wait, I should probably go in with some sort of intention…. right?” Right.
The Filter. You can filter by amount of beds, swimming pool, pet friendly, fireplace, and hot tub. You can also organize the listings by price if you’re looking for something cheaper or swankier. I do love to sort.
The Map. You can view your options on a map! So if you know you want to be near the water, just choose the ones there. If you know you want to be near a metropolitan hub, you got it.

Succinct Descriptions. These speak for themselves.

Right to the point

Now, onto The Cons:

The Pricing. This was actually an easy fix, once I looked it up. However, when there’s a pricetag on the listing, I couldn’t tell naturally whether that was per night, per week, or per hour. A Google tells me it means Per Night. Noted.
The Calendar. Compared to the rest of things, it just looks a little blah. And initially, it took me a bit to figure out how to utilize it by entering my desired dates. I figured out, but again, it didn’t feel as natural as other pieces.
Oi.
The Lack of Options in Certain Places. HOWEVER, this is part of the reason I wrote the review. So that more people see it, and maybe more listings go up. And MAYBE, just maybe, there will be more than 4 listings in OCNJ come next summer.

Now I just have to find 7 friends.

What’s your favorite/most essential traveling app?

*Disclaimer: I didn’t receive any money or compensation for this post. BUT, if Dwellable decides they like it the most, I could win some swag. And I do love swag.*

Spring Break 2013: You’re Doing It Wrong

March 2, 2013March 2, 2016 / foodsweatandbeers / 7 Comments

Oh, Irony. I see what you did there.

This is NOT the welcome wagon I was expecting.

Welcome to the DR, JP!

Picture this: My roomie Nancy and I spent a solid 2 hours in the sunshine. Rotating, re-applying sunscreen (talk about an exercise in futility, currently crispy and pink), gabbing the day away, reading ~~US Weekly~~ scholastic textbooks. All that good stuff. And, since I dream of living some sort of reverse-Little Mermaid experience, I knew I needed to get into the tepid ocean water to swim around like a fish. I collected perfect conical shells, I did handstands, I floated like a buoy, I ran out to Nancy proud of my discoveries and demanding a water-buddy. She obliged, wanting a dip herself.

Moments later, she was marveling at the brave manner in which I drag my feet around in the ocean trying to pick up any bits of coral or shell my toes can feel. I commented “Yes, obviously I’m very courageous. Not just anyone could/would do such a heroic deed.”

Cue: Sea urchin. Yup, stepped on a sea urchin within thirty minutes of diving into the deep blue.

Human crutches

I thought I could “walk it off” assuming the best, maybe an under the sea splinter. And then, as we went to go grab a bite, I felt a blinding searing pain best described as being stabbed with a metal rod. Only the rod is being heated at a near-melting degree from the inside and continues to radiate pain.

I need a doctor.

“Sure,” said Nancy. “We’ll find you one, just sit tight.”

What is happening?!

Enter Dr. Delarosa. Exit: dozens of tiny sea urchin spines. Apparently, my body had an allergic reaction to the spines and WHAM, inflammation, a pain like a thousand tiny spiny suns, and a hazy vision.

Slightly less searing pain? Yes, please.

I expected that, if I was going to be doing any hobbling whilst on vacay, it would be due to inebriation from the all-inclusive drink situation. I did NOT expect to receive an intramuscular injection of anti-histamine in my butt cheek. I did NOT expect to be a wobbly fool due to a spiny critter of the sea.

According to the resort, sea urchins never swim that close to the shore. Well, joke’s on me, I guess. Good one, sea urchin. Had me fooled.

Luckily, the benadryl and lotion they gave me are making a dent in the pain. And my starvation is pulling me in the direction of the dinner buffet like WHOAH. So, despite the best efforts of the ocean’s porcupine, I can’t be stopped. Nice try, little one.

I’ll make sure to eat extra Uni next time I get sushi.

(Also, big ups to Nancy for recognizing that, though this was a terrifying experience, the ONLY reasonable response was to take zillions of pictures.)

Ok, Ok…. I get it.

January 28, 2013January 28, 2013 / foodsweatandbeers / 8 Comments

(I recognize that the issue of gun control is one wrought with drama and debate, death and amendments, and all sorts of things. And this is not a post on any of those. This is just a personal experience on an event for work that opened my mind a bit.)

Before today, I didn’t understand. What was the appeal?

They’re loud. They’re dangerous. They’re often scary, whether in the news or fictional media. And, admittedly, I’m not too worried that the zombie apocalypse in on the way (though I do get silly excited for new episodes of The Walking Dead). But I guess there’s a time and place for everything, right?

And, since I lived in North Carolina for 7 years without ever touching one, I was mocked at the range. Well, not gonna deal with that again.

Blue dude never saw it coming

And, after a bit of practice with the handguns, it only felt right to jump to the heavy hitter.

Pew pew

Annie, you’d better watch out. Jordy got her hand on some guns…. and I think I’m still glowing from the rush.

Fact: I’m a terrible shot (especially with the bonus of not remembering to pack my glasses).

Fact: I don’t think I’ve felt that adrenaline since skydiving in 2010. And, before that, getting a tattoo in 2007.

Fact: I’d do it again in a heartbeat (actually, I’d do all of those again. Shooting, skydiving, being tattooed.)

I think I got him.

I don’t think I’ll be signing up for the NRA any time soon, and I won’t be rushing out to hit the range next week. But I guess I get it.

Try anything new this weekend?

God Save the Delta Psi

January 25, 2013January 25, 2013 / foodsweatandbeers / 2 Comments

Sometimes, as I am squashed against a cold window or, heaven forbid, forced to endure the aisle seat on a long Megabus trip, I reflect back on Sierra’s Emirates journey and can’t help but chuckle (Chuckling is the one where you weep quietly, right?) But this Monday night/Tuesday morning’s journey, as I curled up against a pile of outerwear acting as a pillow, sweating in the mysteriously warm cocoon of steel and patterned interior (more like Muggy-bus, am I right?), I was instead only able to smile widely, reflecting on the past weekend in Boston surrounded by those magical friends that have become my family.

I arrived early Friday morning (like obscenely early) and loitered around Boston’s illustrious South Station, not ready to show up to my Airbnb listing QUITE at the crack of dawn. However, after reading about 78 Shades of Grey, I was ready to brave the cold (and public transportation) to head into Somerville. Being the wheeler and dealer that I am, I booked a place about a mile from the main hotel where most of my brethren were staying for a fraction of the cost (that fraction being 1/3). And Airbnb KILLED IT!

Note my adorable new luggage AND pile of clothes!

The bed was warm, and since the person staying before me checked out early, I was able to nap for a few hours before shenanigans began.

I hit up Harpoon Brewery for a little visit/tasting, but I think I’ll do a separate post on that. Friday night was a whirlwind of too many cocktails and not enough photos, but I was so busy reuniting with old friends, the camera was the last thing on my mind. Luckily, especially considering how little I ate on Friday, Saturday started off with a delicious catered lunch.

Quite the spread

Alas, the “barley salad” was actually a cleverly disguised olive salad (blech, olives are actually the very worst), but the sandwiches were delicious and I gobbled them up like the starving grad student that I am. And, after hours of meetings and paperwork and oodles of fraternizing (HA, get it?! Because we’re in a frat) it was time for the main event (or at least a main event). Cocktails!!

We dolled up. And, because I firmly believe that my frat only pledges ridiculously good looking people, it was great to ogle the eye candy (as incest-y as that sounds).

Lesson of the night: don’t wear a white dress if there’s sangria around

MIT kids: brains AND beauty? Doesn’t seem fair…

After plenty of schmoozing, the real fun began. If you’re any type of a frat star, you know that the night hasn’t officially begun until fraternity songs are playing on the piano and being screamed by your family.

If you’re not, trust me on this one.

The very best.

There’s something about hearing the tunes that I sang all throughout my collegiate career being “sang” (being a bit generous with the term, here) by men and women from across the country (or, in the cases of many Taus, from around the world). Our drunken harmonizing might not get us a trip to Hollywood a la American Idol, but it’s the sweetest sound in the world to my ears. We, as a group, love to sing (and sometimes make the rafters ring), and it’s never more obvious than when hundreds of us are in the same house.

The next day was a little easier to wake up from (more foods + less drinks = better sleep all around) and, after a casual stroll through Cambridge (by casual, I mean nearly frostbitten), I arrived for the most visually appealing lunch setting I could imagine.

Hello, Bean Town.

Much less olives in this lunch made for a more satisfying meal (and the fact that I grabbed about three pieces of foccacia and a wedge of butter, I think that helped, too.)

Cue more meetings, a quick jaunt back over to Somerville, some dolling up, and we’re back!

That’s ME!

We enjoyed salmon, a wild rice blend, and a DELICIOUS broccoli rabe, which ended up more in peoples’ teeth than in their stomachs.

Then, inevitably, more schmoozing.

I clean up fairly nicely, eh?

Disregard the flower in the hair, a last minute addition from the centerpiece (everyone was doing it). My particular choice of sandals was PERFECT for the dancing around as they possessed little to no traction whatsoever.

Translation? I was like an ice skater whirling around the dance floor.

I’ll admit, there was an interesting vibe at dinner I couldn’t quite put my finger on…. it was like everyone was not sure what was going to come next and, eventually, they learned the answer: nothing. Nothing was coming next, at least not in that banquet hall.

Luckily, the after-party was in full swing back at the fraternity house.

Just like Cheers.

I’ll admit, the time back at the house felt a LOT like my sophomore year of college. They ran out of most of the booze, resulting in a number off odd mixers and liquors left. Everyone was whirling around the house like lunatics, with that desperation that could only come from the final night of a wonderful weekend.

Who haven’t we talked to?

Who haven’t we hugged?

When can I next get up to visit?

Will we EVER SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN?

You know, the usual. And, as 4:30 am rolled around, most people were still there. They were still hugging, and talking, and praying the morning would never come.

Unfortunately, since fraternity thoughts along don’t stop the earth’s rotation, the morning did come. And so did the goodbyes, and the final hugs, and the promises to visit, as they do every year. Luckily, since I’ve migrated to the Northeast, the ability to visit a few other chapters is actually semi-realistic. Although, let’s be honest, my heart is still down in Chapel Hill. And, since we’re still being honest, that’s the first place on my itinerary of places to visit. It’s not just because they’re far enough south that the promise of warmer temperatures.

Delta Psi means forever.

It probably has more to do with the fact that, when I’m there, my heart glows enough to light the dance floor when we’re up until 4:30am shaking it.

God save the Delta Psi, my sisters and brothers from other mothers.

Darlin’ it’s better, down where it’s wetter

December 30, 2012December 30, 2012 / foodsweatandbeers / 7 Comments

Know what’s the best thing about the aquarium?

FISH ARE FRIENDS!

Everything.

It’s been a few months since I’ve been to the Adventure Aquarium in Camden, NJ, and since I had two free passes that expired at the end of 2012, it was time to get busy ~~living~~ going to the aquarium or get busy dying. But really, I don’t need a big excuse to go.

I LOVE the aquarium. I love fish. Wait. Let me elaborate.

I have a tiny tattoo of a wave on my right ankle. I love the ocean and fish so much that I kind of have this secret fantasy that if I ever get another (or several other) tattoos, I could make them all fish and sea-related. And then, my body would sort of be like a walking “Under the Sea”-themed party.

…ok, I know, that’s a little much. But real-talk. They’re the best.

Sting Ray BAY!

Adventure Aquarium is especially fun because just about every single section has a different ‘Please Touch’ area. Rubbing and feeding sting rays, tiny sharks. starfish, sea anemones, everything good and fun. And, if you have the opportunity to touch sea critters safely, I’d fully recommend inviting your little brother and sister. They’re the ultimate plus two.

Little Loveys

Kiley and I even dressed for the theme.

Jellyfish and Jaws

We take aquarium visits seriously.

Highlights this time:

Hunter was attacked (he made it out alive).

Danger is his middle name.

It was pole-feeding Thursday, so they were feeding the sharks fishies on a pole. And we got to watch the CARNAGE.

Delicious fishies.

The penguins (who weren’t handling the cold Camden weather too well.)

Note they’re all cowering in the warm closet. Wusses.

ALWAYS my favorites, those creatures with tentacles.

Jellyfishing: The most dangerous game

We were traipsing through his garden. Sorry, bro.

And, of course, staring down sharks.

Come at me, brah.

He did not, in fact, come at me.

And, since it’s the season and all, Scuba Santa made an appearance.

Ho, Ho, glubbbb

Oh goodness.

The aquarium. I can’t get enough….

But, as I’ve been loafing at my family home for the past week and some change, it’s time to get my act together and head back to Philly. This New Year’s Eve isn’t going to celebrate itself…..

New Year, New Generation

December 27, 2012December 27, 2012 / foodsweatandbeers / 4 Comments

I had every intention of taking LOADS of pictures on Christmas night. Really, I did. Pictures of the food, pictures of the presents, pictures of the fun… That was the plan.

See, look, I even started!

Festive Filet! Yes, sir-ay!

But, as it’s been said before, “The best laid schemes of mice and men / Often go awry.” Admittedly, I am neither a mice NOR a man. But something got in the way of my picture taking. Actually, it was more someone. Enter Whitney, my eldest female cousin (of my 10 cousins on my mom’s side of the family). If you’re a long-time reader, you might remember her getting married in NYC last year and me visiting her not too long after that in the city. If you’re not, here she is, interrupting Christmas dinner:

Rude, right?

She had the GALL to ask everyone to quiet down, interrupting crucial appetizer consumption time. I looked over her way, intrigued, but still hungry, and instinctively started snapping pictures. She claims that she had a full speech planned out, ready to wow the crowd with her eloquence. What it really went like was something like this:

Hey! Everyone. [we all stare at her, she momentarily looks like a deer in headlights.] I…. Um…. I’M PREGNANT!!

GLORIOUS!!

Cue total rapture from the 30-something family members in the house at the time. There was laughing, there was crying, belly-touching, and joy. We demanded to know the due date, how she was feeling, the details (we’re a little bit of a TMI family)… Everything.

Love is all around.

And, in the hooplah and hullabaloo, I set my camera aside to give my cousin all the love and support I could (and hand over some presents, of course). I did get my brother to snap one picture though, so we’ll just consider it a toast to the next generation of our family.

Slainte to the little one and his/her happy parents!

Beyond that, break has been full of relaxation, great foods, and delicious beers. And, inevitably, loads of excited chattering over the baby-on-the-way.

Can’t wait to find out even more and, eventually, meet this little one!!

Any insane Christmas news and announcements on your end?

I feel like Facebook and Twitter erupted with news of engagements and pregnancies. Tis the season, eh?

Single Surprises

December 21, 2012December 21, 2012 / foodsweatandbeers / 14 Comments

I was single before. In fact, I’ve been single for over 80% of my life. But, for four and a half years, I’ve been off the market. Those years were at a pivotal point in my life. A point during which I studied abroad (translation: no scoping out for foreign strange as I shouted “molto molto” in response to any and all Italian questions aimed at me), turned 21 (translation: no “Make out with 21 guys before 2am” or “Do a ‘blowjob’ shot off the bartender’s lap” dares), graduated college (translation: no final undergrad flings where the challenge is to hook up with someone from all four years of school, and a bonus for the victory lap senior looking so fly in his second commencement robe). Hell, I even missed the boat on moving to a new city as a single lady. Translation: I ended up renting an apartment slightly too big for one (but, apparently, too small for two) which I’m now living in alone. Other than some basic life differences between living with a romantic partner and living alone/being single (i.e. cooking for one, lots more closet space, the occasional pang of feelings when you remember or see something that reminds you of them), there have been a few things that have surprised me in these past few months of being single. Pleasant surprises, and, inevitably, a few not-so-pleasant ones. And, since I’ve shared very little personal information about my life post-breakup, I figured this was as good of a place as any to start. Sharing is caring, right?

1. Ms. Fix-It

This one definitely falls into the “not-so-pleasant” surprise. Maybe I just imagined myself a handy lady back when I had someone to fall back on after realizing that I wasn’t very handy. And, now, when stuff breaks, I’m on my own.

The most recent manifestation of this? When my Wireless dropped out, after sitting with the wires and the router and the modem and the directions for over an hour, I came out looking something like this:

Only slightly more disheveled.

Needless to say, I didn’t really “fix it”. But I DID get wired internet. And that’ll suffice, for now.

2. Beloved Bed

I’ve fallen deeply in love already. Only it’s a lot bigger than your average significant other.

I want to be on you.

A few days after the breakup, I went out and bought a new bed from Ikea (which was a MISERABLE experience, Ikea alone. Led to crying in the middle of the checkout line and utter exhaustion). LUCKILY, I got the bed of my dreams out of it. And, when Macy’s was having a bedding sale, I figured New bed, New blanket, right?! The combination of the two has confirmed my belief that there is no better way to “Treat Yo’ Self” than a good night’s sleep. And who would’ve thought that my first love after a breakup would be Swedish (and made of wood)?

3. No Guilt November (or October. Or December.)

Living in a new city, starting a new school, there are infinite opportunities to go out and try new things. That being said, I often felt guilty leaving my apartment knowing that my partner at the time was not a part of all those new things. This is definitely a personal fault, and I’m sure bothered me a lot more than it bothered him. But that being said, it had me feeling bad a lot, or choosing not to do things because I didn’t want to ditch him. Now, if someone throws out the idea of an impromptu happy hour – I’M IN!

Bonus shift with Living Social starting in 20 minutes? Lemme grab my coat.

A latke party in honor of Hanukkah? See you there.

Homemade Hanukkah House! So festive, eh?

I’ve realized that I am a person that not only wants these new experiences, but craves them. I want to meet everyone in Philly, I want to make new friends, I want to dine at new places, I want to see pop-up shops and hit up new neighborhoods to explore. And, as selfish as it sounds, maybe it’s for the best that I’m not doing all of that with a partner who isn’t as interested in those kinds of trips and adventures.

4. NEW FRIENDS!!

Since all of that internet drama went down (and I had a minor meltdown since I had a paper due in an hour), I had to rush to a nearby cafe to get my work done with free wifi. I was lucky enough to sit down next to this lovely person:

Oh, Philly

No shoes, no actual shirt (it was just like… some cloth, wrapped around the chest region), maybe no sanity.

This isn’t really DIRECTLY related to being single. But it was still hilarious and ridiculous. And I wanted to share.

5. Give me a head with hair, long beautiful hair. Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen.

I’ve probably blow-dried my hair more in the past 2.5 months than I did in the previous 6 years. And, despite my memories of being younger where I was CERTAIN that blow-drying took 2 hours to complete and was an experience full of pain and agony, it’s actually more like a 15 minute process with MAJOR payoffs.

Rapunzel

I think I never wanted to blow-dry it living with someone, as it is loud and mostly obnoxious. But now, living alone, naked blow-drying has become a favorite pastime.

Don’t judge me.

6. Best Friends Forever

The initial outpouring of support post-breakup was overwhelming. If a friend in need is a friend indeed, I was everyone’s friend. I was in need of love, of ego stroking, of funny memories, of hugs, and of grilled cheese. And I received each and every one of these.

But after the dust settles, after the Facebook notifications have tapered off and the phone stopped blowing up with texts and calls, there’s a lot of alone time. And it’s during that time that you realize a very important concept. And, despite Carrie Bradshaw hitting on this long before my first heartbreak, it took until now to really “get it”, and it kind of surprised me how hard it hit home:

The most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself.

I’ve heard it countless times, but it’s never resonated more than this year. And here’s the follow-up part, the piece that makes me giddy just thinking about it.

And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that’s just fabulous. -CB

I'm SURE someone out there will love this lunatic.

This chick….

In the meantime, I’m feeling fairly enamored with that white-haired, PBR-loving lunatic. So, you know, no hurry.

Less about me, more about YOU! What’s an aspect of yourself that you’re MADLY in love with?

#ecsdontsleep (Neither do Grad Students)

December 14, 2012December 14, 2012 / foodsweatandbeers / 7 Comments

Oi, what a week it’s been. Papers, take home exams, a REAL exam. I am WIPED. I’ve spent more time in the library the past two weeks than I think I did throughout my entire undergraduate career. It feels like the only way I can really focus, surrounded by my fellow strung-out students, fueled by energy drinks, Wawa hoagies, and the threat of a dip in the GPA. But, after giving my hand a cramp writing so furiously fast on my exam last night, I had only one thing on my mind.

Last night was my first night out as a full-blooded Living Social lady. And, though worked a few events so far, I hadn’t actually met most of my coworkers yet. And, at the lovely Trestle Inn , a whiskey-a-go-go bar nestled at the corner of 11th and Callowhill, we convened in our holiday finery to exchange presents, sing carols (Thrift Shop is a carol, right?), drink eggnog (and many, many other bevvies), and make merry.

90% of the tales from the night are the “you had to be there” kinds of stories. But, since the holidays are all about giving, I’ll give a FEW key highlights which made last night (to quote Macklemore) F*cking Awesome.

First of all, it’s incredible to find a group of people who are as supportive of theme parties as myself. You might remember what happened the LAST TIME I went all-out for a theme party (awkward.) Last night, though, my fellow ECs came dressed to impress.

Sexy, can I?

Christmas Sparkles

We learned that, when in doubt, the gift of booze is always appreciated.

For ME?! You shouldn’t have!

And, if booze doesn’t work…. might I suggest ballpark franks?

That was my present. You’re welcome.

I’ve never seen anyone get as fired up over a rock paper scissors tournament as my fellow ECs. Then again, I’ve literally never seen anyone else have a rock paper scissors tournament so…. there’s that.

Such intensity.

And, as we danced the night away, using the sequinned gowns as human disco balls and tossing back tiny Beercakes to keep our blood sugar high, I had a strange feeling come over me. I’m pretty sure it was the feeling that I belonged.

But it could’ve just been sheer terror at the ~~worst~~ best gift of the night.

This mask will likely haunt your nightmares from now on, sorry.

And, by the end of the night (translation: the beginning of the morning as it was well after 2:00 am), I finally understood what everyone meant when they say “ECs Don’t Sleep.”

Luckily, since my exam’s over, I’ve got plenty of time to make up for lost slumber this weekend. And pray that my dreams don’t involve that horse head mask….

Best White Elephant gift you’ve ever given/received? How about worst?

Last night’s half-eaten advent calendar was pretty bad.

Last year, I ended up with a six pack of fancy, new-to-me beers not available in NC. That was probably number one.

The Positive in the Negative

November 26, 2012 / foodsweatandbeers / 7 Comments

I don’t have many things that REALLY get me fired up. Zombie movies. A great Zumba class. ~~Competitive~~ Semi-competitive food-running (only when it’s a short race, you wear a costume, and combine it with gourmet dishes ). Craft beer.

Maybe the biggest thing, though…. the one that gets my heart fluttering fast and my pulse racing, the one that I want to work with for the rest of my life… it’s sexual and reproductive health!!!!!

But seriously, isn’t that the cutest?

ANYWHO, this isn’t a post all about sexual and reproductive health, mostly because that’s not really what this blog is about and I end up writing about it for most of my school papers, so you can imagine I’m not gunning to write MORE in my beer and food and sweat blog….

That being said though, I just wanna say that I think I’ve found the easiest, greatest way to boost your morning for FREE: Go get yourself (rapidly) tested for HIV!

I swung by student health this morning for a quick little test, as a firm believer that knowing your status is about the coolest thing on the planet, and the BEST thing you can share with a partner you might be getting sexy with. And, even if you’re NOT getting sexy with anyone, doesn’t just KNOWING that you’re making a good move for your overall health give you an insane rush?!

“This is ALMOST as exciting as Rapid HIV testing!!”

This was the first time I’d gotten the rapid HIV test with blood (in the past, I’ve just gotten the oral swab). A quick prick of the finger, a 20-minute chat with the health counselor (who was just FULL of excitement at finding a kindred spirit with whom to chat about sexual health!) and WHAM:

Seriously, just go do it.

Make a day of it, go with your friends. Go with your partner. Go alone. Come with me (I’ll go again, just ask me!!)

If you want to find somewhere to get it done quick and for FREE, check out The National HIV/STD Testing Resource. They’ll check out your location, tell you where to go, and, before you can even say like, 1/8th of this word, you’ll get your results!!

Ok, off my soap box. Which also recently got tested and is HIV negative!

No questions to ask, just throwing it out there: knowing is great, your results are confidential (unless you write a blog post about it), and your health is totally worth it (it, of course, being free.)

Negatively,

Jordan