1 Winner and 1 Notsomuch

I've been remiss not to announce the winner of my Sew Your Own giveaway. Using Random.org, we have our winner. Drumroll please... Jill at Peeptoe Pumps & Pearls! Jill, email me at polkadotsandproteinbars{at}gmail{dot}com, so we can discuss making your apron or sundress.

So there's our fabulous winner. Now for the Notsomuches. I have been reading as blog after blog extols the liquid goodness of Sonic's Diet Cherry Limeade. Call it peer pressure, curiosity, conforming or a search to quench my thirst, but I decided to try it. We have multiple Sonics in town, but I had never been to one. Until yesterday.

Grabbing Baby Sis (did you forget about her? She's dropped off the face of the blog, I know), I headed first to Zaxby's to tame my zzzzzzzzzzzzzalad craving (oh yeah, I'm looking at you Zouthern Zunshine). Because apparently Sunday is all about walking on the wild side, I opted to forgo my regularly scheduled grilled chicken house zalad (minus the cucumbers and tomatoes, with Light Ranch, pleaze) and chose the Blue Zalad Buffaloed (with Light Ranch instead of Bleu Cheese, natch).

Now, I was beyond excited to dig into this zalad, that is, until I actually did. I've had it on several occassions, and it's delish, but apparently the Zunday night crew was feeling fiesty and drenched my zalad in XXX Habanero Heat sauce. I'm not wimp to spicy foods - my mom's Louisiana-born, after all - but my mouth was in flames... I'm talking sweaty, red face (as per usual, really), crying, etc. I pushed the plate away, disappointed and in pain. Or so I thought. The pain in my mouth was N-O-T-H-I-N-G compared to the pain that quickly hit my chest. Immediate Onset Heartburn? Perhaps. I'm not sure. All I know is that several tiny people, wielding machetes were stabbing me repeatedly in the chest. I was gasping for air and trying not to laugh, move, cough, or breathe while Little Ziz calmly finished her much tamer zalad. Ever the compassionate zibling, Sis laughed at my ordeal, noted that I sounded like I was in labor and inquired whether I was still up for a Sonic run to cap our evening of torture fun and bonding.

Always a trooper, I agreed, certain that the chilly goodness would ease my pain. When we arrived at the drive-in window, I could barely feel the chest blades thanks in part to my overshadowing excitement. With the precision of synchronized swimmers, Sis and I plunged our straws into the icy depths and took a sip. Aaaannnddd... that's it? I mean, really? It wasn't bad, but it was just... off. Too much tang, not enough sweet? Overall the experience was more than a little underwhelming, I must say. Maybe my expectations were too high. Maybe I shouldn't have put earth-shattering standards on a drink. From Sonic. In Indian Trail, NC. Whatever the reason, I was disappointed. I threw the drink away while it was still half-full (or half-empty, however you choose to see).

In conclusion:
- My heart did, in fact, stop dying.
- I will never again trust the workers at Zaxby's on Monroe Rd.
- While I still love the Sonic commercials, I will only admire them from afar.
- Diet Cherry Limeades don't live up to the hype. My tastebuds said so.
- If you think you may be near death, make sure to have my sister with you - she will absolutely not overreact, and will remain robotically calm. She will also laugh at you and give you strange looks as you hyperventilate.
- She may also call you a drama queen.