clark|pharm: We're A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock N Roll

We are so scary.

Children weep when they see us on the street.

Usually because Wilberforce is pinching them, or stealing something from them. But still, they weep.

And then we smile like nice people. No, officer, we didn't steal that kid's backpack. I don't know who pinched him. He gave himself a wet willy.

Huh.

Wilberforce matched the blue on his new shorts to the blue on his tshirt. All by himself. He was so proud when I noticed.

I'm just proud he can finally dress himself.

Sometimes I wear all black to the gym. Some would say it's because it's a funeral for their fat.

Not me.

I wear all black 'cause I'm a ninja. And ninjas do stuff like that.

Ninja fact.

I am even more ninja-licious with my new lifting gloves. I have crazy stupid calluses, even after using my cheapo Walmart lifting gloves. Weird.

These babies are purple and padded and PIMP. Yup. The three P's.

Imagine you're at the sporting goods store and notice a girl looking at lifting gloves, decked out in all colors of the rainbow, when she starts singing "Purple, padded, pimp. Purple, padded, pimp. One hand, two hands, purple, padded, pimped out gloves...one hand, two hands, purple, padded, pimped out gloves..."

And if, by chance, this really happened to you...then we shop at the same sporting goods store.

These are my gym essentials.

My purple gloves, obviously. My beats so I can jam out to killer workout jams, like Backstreet Boys and NSYNC...and lets not forget Pam Tillis and Reba McEntire. My amino energy purple drank...grape flavor cause errrrybody knows thugs only drink purple drank. My workout book. If I didn't write down what I'm going to do at the gym, I would never get around to doing it. If it gets written in the book, it gets done. Rules of the ClarkPharm.

The sweet thing about going to the gym, besides being totally ripped and scaring small children, is that I get to do this:

:and not feel the least bit guilty about it. Yoga pants, couch time, and football. Yeah boys!

Oh yeah, and ice cream. Gotta have that ice cream if we're watching football. Maple ice cream with caramel syrup and roasted pumpkin seeds. You hear that? Sounds like fall.

I like sammiches. Sammiches are God's gift to people who have not yet lived long enough to celebrate their 15th birthday. Also known as children.

I happen to be one of those people who ignored every birthday after numero 12, and therefore have been 12 years old for...well...um...many years. (I think we've previously established I have no idea how old I am. And math is hard. If it doesn't involve counting by fives, I don't do it.)

Point of this story: I like sammiches. Grilled cheese sammiches, to be exact.

I have recently figured out how to make sandwich bread out of egg whites, coconut flour, onion powder, garlic powder, and psyllium husk. Super healthy, deliciously tasty, low carb, and fluffy as all get-out.

I throw some veggies and meat on the plate, just to throw people off. The ketchup and mustard smeared all over my hands and face usually gives me away, but at least I start out the meal looking like an adult.

Wilberforce wanted Steak n Eggs n Hashbrowns the other day. So that's what he got. Sirloin steak, sweet potato and onion hashbrowns grilled on the cast iron skillet, and a couple runny eggs on top.

I made Wilberforce cook his own steak. I can't cook red meat to save my life. That's his job.

The Clarks went on vacation this week! We went to Glenwood Springs for a few days.

The morning we left, I woke up and went for a little 6.3 mile run around the neighborhood. When I got home, Wilberforce was just waking up.

He was still sooooo sleeeeepy.

He told me to pose for a picture. I did. He said it wasn't a running picture. So I tried to pretend I was running. It worked well, I think.

I'm pretty sure this is my favorite picture of W and I from recent times. Him yawning and me looking at him all starry eyed. We. Are. Weird.

I like to pretend I'm a thug. Gangsta.

The laundry on the couch makes me feel less gangsta. Thugs don't do laundry. They have hoes for that. Or so I've heard. I don't have hoes. I have Wilberforce. And he doesn't fold my laundry in the manner I prefer.

So there we are. I guess this gangsta thug will continue folding her own laundry. And wearing sunglasses in the house.

Eventually we actually got on the road. This is somewhere between Vail and Glenwood Springs. Pretty pretty.

You know those booking.com commercials? Where the family is all angry and tired and missing a shoe and blah blah blah, then they walk in a killer hotel room and the dad realizes he's a totally booking genius?? He booking nailed it??

Yeah.

That happens in real life.

Cause I totally booking nailed it.

$79 a night for this place. Full kitchen with stove and dishwasher. Living room. Fabulous bedroom. Fantastic pool and fitness center. Amazing continental breakfast. Firepit and grill on the patio.

I'm a booking genius.

Wilberforce approved.

I woke up before W (surprise) to run a couple 5 miles with the old folks in the hotel fitness center.

Then we hit the Yampah Hot Springs Vapor Caves and Spa. Ahhhhhhmazing.

I booked us for a couple's massage and facials, plus we had unlimited access to the underground vapor caves. It was the best day ever. Wilberforce agreed. He felt so pampered, he had to raise his pinkie while drinking his cucumber lemon water.

Then we wandered downtown to eat at The Pullman.

It was pretty awesome.

Wilberforce ordered the Braised Pork Sandwich with Jalapeno Cherry BBQ Sauce. He almost faceplanted into it after the first nibble.

I had the Grilled Chicken and Anchovies over Charred Romaine Salad. How can something so simple be so deliciously amazing?

For an afternoon snack, I created my own culinary masterpieces in our hotel room kitchen. Wilberforce enjoyed a monster of a sweet potato cake with chocolate fudge pudding frosting.

I made this.

Don't act like you're not impressed.

Oooozing Caramel English Toffee Pumpkin Cake inside a pumpkin, with Butterscotch Peanut Butter Pudding Topping and Chocolate Caramel Sauce. I put blobs of jelly on top of the batter before I cooked it so it ooooozed out the sides like bloooood. Creeeeepy.

Fact: if you aaaaaaaaad a bunch of vooooowels to a word it makes it instantly creeeeeepy.

Day Two: Cardio, Party of One! Before we took off for the great blue yonder of Colorado.

I made myself breakfast in our hotel room kitchen, because I'm a creature of habit and have to start my day with my Zeggs. But I brought it down to the hotel lobby/dining room so I could eat with Wilberforce while he enjoyed the tasties of the continental breakfast.