I Wish I Was An Oscar Meyer Wiener....

Frankfurter, weenie, frank, wiener....I love hot dogs. Anyone who knows me well knows that a hot dog is the way to my heart. At this moment, I have 14, individually wrapped hot dogs in my refrigerator (I donated two to my counterpart). I even trademarked my hot dog dance that I perform late at night, whilst cooking, ok microwaving, hot dogs. It's a rare treat to witness.

This weekend my obsession took a new turn as counterpart and I drove to Richmond to get hot dogs for lunch, at City Dogs. It was amazing and I would easily do it again! What we won't tell you is that I repeatedly whined/complained to her after leaving that I only ate one.

I can't pin-point the day my love of hot dogs began, but I also associate hot dogs with fun times: baseball games; day/drinking and cookouts; the local town fair; eating my feelings late at night, etc.

Now if only my boyfriend could learn to prepare me deliciously grilled hot dogs and not these (notice the extra char):



He does however, make a perfectly cooked steak with a perfect pink center.