
Technically, Emily and I have known each other for nine years. We met freshman year of college at the University of Minnesota--she was roommates with a high school classmate of mine. (The 8th floor of Middlebrook Hall was good to me--I also met my husband on that same floor).
We discovered the joys of knowing someone as insane as yourself. How many 19-year-olds are passing "Do you like me, check yes or no" notes while getting stellar grades in classes like Organic Chemistry, Calculus Two and Statistics? (Yes, this journalist took Calc2. No, I didn't take OChem).
What, you say, does this have to do with woowoo? My now-husband had a then-roommate who had a poster on his side of the room, picked up at the ubiquitous fall "poster sale," that listed the names of different cocktails. That he was underage was of no concern to him.
However one of the drinks was, amusingly, named a Woo Woo. We had never had it, but it captured our imagination. And now, besides having ridiculous notes passed to them, our friends had to deal with Emily and I randomly exclaiming WOO WOO.
And now we embark together on a three-week road trip journey together, together visiting nine states, six national parks, numerous roadside monuments and one place where they throw rolls at you.
I expect there to be countless amounts of Woo-Wooing throughout the journey.
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By the way, I'm not sure if I've ever had a Woo Woo, but perhaps we can fix that on this journey. Here is a recipe in case you want to make one yourself:
Mix 1.5 oz. peach shnapps, 1.5 oz of vodka and 3.5 oz of cranberry juice into a highball glass and serve over ice.