dumpster selfies, woo wine and spiritual hot dog moments.

a little bit of everyday. a little bit of woo.

The Everyday

Hot dogs taste so much better by the beach

As a product of the ‘90s, I have experienced hot dogs in many forms:

• cut up and tossed into violently orange mac and cheese and paired with Fresca

• eaten from the iconic red-and-white checkered boxes at high school football games while wearing a sequined dance uniform.¹

• proffered to me by a kind Scottish gentleman who wisely set up his hot dog cart at the foot of the Old Man of Storr hike.²

But the hot dog that I got from Dizzy Dawgz last weekend put all of my past hot dog experiences to shame. Hilly and I had just spent a single luxurious hour by the beach doing 0% of anything and were driving back to the apartment when the heavens opened up and a single column of light illuminated a humble hot dog cart.

Cue the hallelujah chorus.

We stopped. We bought two hot dogs. I tried to take an ~artsy~ photo of said hot dogs.

I know that this is the “everyday” section of the newsletter, but damn…eating that hot dog felt downright spiritual. Maybe it was the salt air. Maybe it was the generous dollop of relish (I am squarely Team Relish). Maybe it was my mostly empty stomach.

Either way, Dizzy Dawgz on STX is one roadside attraction that you should definitely pull over for. And for my non-meat eating readers, don’t you worry: they serve veggie dogs, too.

True Life: Island life isn’t perfect.

Some days, I take pictures like this:

And other days, I take pictures like this:

Yep. That is me getting cozy with a bunch of trash.³

Life on St. Croix is anything but predictable, and despite the many picturesque, carefree moments that I’ve captured in my four or so months here, there are just as many…uh…not ideal ones.

After taking a fabulous yoga and pilates class on Monday night at Island Movement, my friend Darean and I decided to head to El Leon for some chips, salsa and churros. On the way, it started to pour…and the only available overhang to shelter us from the sudden and severe island rains was conveniently located next to a very smelly dumpster.

Glamorous.

So. If you’re ever clicking through my Instagram stories and like, “ugh, her life sounds perfect,” just remember. Some days, I’m canoodling with black trash bags stuffed with God knows what.