Insert Cup Here.

A new study was released yesterday. (I saw it on the news, I think it was paid for by folger’s, Dunkin, and the ‘Bux.) It is my new favorite study. Coffee drinkers live longer. I don’t know if you know this, but I drink so much, I think I may be immortal. My parents drink as much as I do, so there’s also a fairly good chance I’ll never run out of annoying crap to write about. As long as they’re around, I’ll never be devoid of inspiration. (I can actually hear my mother groan right now…from Georgia….immortality AND telepathy!!) I really hope my parents can’t read my thoughts, that would be…awkward.

Thoreau once famously penned:

I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, To put to rout all that was not life; and not when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.”

We are simple, short lived creatures. No matter the beverage we imbibe, in spite of all of our fiercest protestations, we will all meet our end. We have but only how we choose to live.

Eight years ago, I chose not to be fat anymore. I chose not to look at myself in the mirror and hate (a strong word, but fitting to my emotion) what I saw reflected. I chose to live my life in my best self.

5-6 years ago I decided that waiting to have kids, leaving to chance I would never be a mother, due to my inadequate lady organs, was a chance I was not willing to take.

4 years ago I chose to color my hair red. That was a mistake. Moving on…

Actually, if I’m going to start listing mistakes, I probably should’ve started drinking coffee before I had kids.

This is where you think I am going to get very profound, and find my inner Miz, who can wax poetic in the most beautiful of ways, on how to live your best life. Instead, I am going to take a left-turn, as I so often do…

This year I am choosing to life life both selflessly and selfishly. I have been so richly blessed, by my friends, family, readers, etc. I have also been dealt several blows to my self-esteem, stemming from the remnants of the life I gave up 8 years ago.

Because of how richly blessed I’ve been, I want to give back more than I am right now, so i am dedicating more of my life to service and volunteering.

I have decided to volunteer my time with a local group that leads physical excursions for obese and depressed teens. I’m fairly sure I have a pretty good handle on what they’re feeling. Granted, I did not have facebook to deal with in High School, but going to a school where the graduating class held all of 20 people, we really didn’t need it.

As for that left turn? That’s about living selfishly. Moms frequently forget to think about little things for themselves, and especially forget about the big things, and there’s been something I’ve been forgetting about, ON PURPOSE, for a really long time.

This year, I choose what I want my boobs to look like.

You read that right, my boobs. tatas. lady lumps.

After you lose 175 lbs and nurse 2 babies for over a year a piece, they are boobs in name only. I want them to also look like boobs. I want to wear a dress sans bra. I want to accidentally catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror and double-take my reflection.

I have no idea what size to get.

How do you CHOOSE that?? I know the surgeon is going to give me bra inserts to determine what size I like, but I am one of the most indecisive people on the planet. (really, you should see my college transcripts) Do I scan faces around me for reaction when I wear them? Ask random strangers? Put it on youtube? Go to a bar and see how often I get hit on? Ok, that last idea might lead to me looking a bit slutty.

Do I conduct an informal poll? Formal? Do I call Quinnipiac? I have no idea. I’m secretly hoping I’ll be struck with some sort of mammary revelation, and the stars will align with my lady headlights, and everything will come into focus.

Until then? I’ll make a salad.

If you’ve never had a grilled watermelon salad, you’re missing out. It changes the texture just enough to make it really interesting. I know it can be hard to think of something so sweet in a savory preparation, but trust me, it’s divine. The secret is the marination. Watermelons are GREAT at absorbing acids, and man is it good.

Grilled Watermelon, Mint, Basil, and Goat Cheese Salad



Grilled Watermelon Salad

by Cat Tan

Keywords: grill appetizer salad


  • 6 slices watermelon
  • 2-4 oz goat cheese
  • 1/4 cup champagne vinegar
  • 1/2-3/4 cup orange pineapple juice
  • salt and pepper
  • drizzle of olive oil
  • 2 tbsp chopped basil
  • 2 tbsp chopped mint


combine watermelon, vinegar, juice, salt and pepper in a bowl, marinate for 2 hours

preheat grill to medium-high

grease grill

grill the watermelon 3 minutes a side

drizzle the watermelon with olive oil

sprinkle with basil, mint, and goat cheese


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11 thoughts on “Insert Cup Here.

  1. Congrats on your decision! I know it took a lot of thought ("Do I reeeaally need this? Yes. Yes I do. Tatas are importante.") Also, I think it's an amazingly awesome volunteer opportunity that you're doing. I know that as a teen, if I had an opportunity to be part of that (and I was a morbidly obese teen) that I would have jumped at it, especially led by someone who inspired me, having known what I went through, and proven that I could beat the odds of my body and change my physical fate. (How poetic I am today...)
  2. Cheers to you! And your boobies! This is obviously something that you put forth a great deal of thought and consideration, so I applaud you for fearlessly going for it.
  3. way to preach it CAT! I certainly love that left turn. You must invest in yourself as woman so that you can be an even better mom. I love love love this! now go fill up on coffee. stat!

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