I spent the whole day thinking it was Houdini Day until my sweet sister brought it to my attention that it was in fact Chip and Dip Day. Good thing I know how to whip up a mean batch of clam dip. Now, don’t get judgmental. I realize that clam dip doesn’t sound like the greatest thing in the world. But that’s where you are wrong. It is the greatest thing in the world.
I was practically raised on clam dip. I’m half clam, you know. I called my mom and asked for the recipe. She said there wasn’t one. It was just ingredients in various amounts. Cool. I purchase said ingredients. Minced clams. Cream cheese. Garlic salt. Worchestershire sauce. Lemon juice. Tabasco sauce. Perfect. I’ve got what I need. I head home. To make the best dip ever.
Well here’s the thing, I’ve never exactly made the clam dip I was raised on. I have been a strict consumer only. So this was my first my time in the production stage. Due to my lack of experience creating said dip, I was unaware how terrifying minced clams look. They are awful. Too awful for me to even photograph (and my camera was upstairs oops). I chopped the clams up even smaller so they looked less scary and mixed everything all together.
Then I made my roommates try it. Now I love my roommates, Jordan and Taylor are just the greatest. But they aren’t the biggest food adventurers. They just like what the like. And to top it off Jordan is not too keen on seafood. I was so proud of them for trying it. Taylor loved it immediately and Jordan loved it after a few bites. Jordan was also ultra scared to try it.
One more thing, clam dip doesn’t photograph well. I mean it’s not a beautiful dip to begin with, but the camera just adds like ten pounds…..and makes it look like brains.
So clam dip was a success. The best part is when you leave it in the fridge over night and the next day it’s even better because it’s had time to sit and ponder its deliciousness.
Now, in addition to making my favorite dip, I had a marvelous day.
I woke up this morning. Put on one of my favorite dresses and my blazer and headed to my big girl job. I heard a new song on the radio. Josh Abbott Band “Oh, Tonight” just in case you were wondering. It was just adorable and happy. And I was all smiley on the way to work for various reasons. And then I got to the city and checked my email and I had an email back from a place I applied for. And they want to interview me! And it’s in a wonderful blustery city! And I’m just jazzed. It wasn’t the first choice on my list of dream careers, but I’m not dream career Barbie. So I’m going for an interview soon and we will see. I’m hoping to have some other glorious options.
And I got an email to apply for an internship with a really cool agency. It was a good day in career pursuit land. I feel like my spinning wheels are starting to gain some traction. And traction is good. So there’s that.
AND! Before I left Bartlesville on Monday, I did an interview with the Examiner-Enterprise. I’m not sure when the story will be published, but it should be soonish. So if you are a native to Bartlesville be sure to read it. Fun fact: I have a theory. About Bartlesville that is. Everyone knows someone from Bartlesville. You all know me. You might actually know me, or you might know me via this blog. But all of you fall into the ‘Knowing Someone From Bartlesville’ category. I have two instances that prove this theory.
1. When I was flying from Denver to LA last week, having a splendid chat with my seat buddy Troy, I was telling him this theory. When everyone was getting off the plane, a girl a row ahead turns around and says, “Did you say you were from Bartlesville?” “Why, yes actually. I am a Bartian through and through (I didn’t say that actually, but it sounds very cool. We really are called Bartians).” “I have family in Bartlesville.” At that point I turn to seat buddy Troy and say, “Point proven.”
2. I was in Paris last summer during my studying abroad adventure. I was walking across the street with my friend Nicole, on our way to buy cough syrup. I was suffering from a bout of black lung. I am telling her something about Bartlesville and I say it out loud. We get to the other side of the street and this guy turns around. “Did you just say Bartlesville? Like, Bartlesville, Oklahoma?” “Umm… yes…. yes I did.” “Do you know so and so? And so and so?” “Umm… yes… yes I do.”
So there’s my proof and my rant/tangent. Do with it what you will.
Not Dream Career Barbie