I love this recipe. Perfect time of year for sweet spicy pumpkiny goodness...They make me happy and surprisingly NOT fatter. What more could a girl ask for? I have tweaked it a few times to my liking. If you don't have the healthier options at home, you can use your regular baking stuff and they probably taste EVEN BETTER :)
For you skinny bitches who care, per muff you are lookin at approx 110 calories, 2 grams of fat, 3 grams of fiber, 4 grams of protein, and only about 1 gram of sugar. Beat that Tim Horton! - (FYI their version is like 520 cals with a retarded amount of fat, YES it tastes better and is bigger, but if I'm gonna do that, just gimme a big piece of chocolate cake)
Stay Skinny Pumpkin Spice Muffins
Ingredients:
1 and 1/2 cups of Whole Wheat Flour
1 tsp. of Baking Soda
1/2 tsp of Salt
3/4 tsp of Cinnamon
1/4 tsp of Cloves
1/8 tsp of Nutmeg
1 Egg (preferably organic Free range!)
1/2 Cup of packed Splenda BROWN Sugar
1/3 Cup of Unsweetened Applesauce (or Oil if you don't care)
1 tsp of Vanilla
3/4 cup of Low Fat Buttermilk **Who the eff has this in their Fridge?! I use Unsweetened Almond Milk with a few drops of Lemon juice (this sours the milk to mock the butta milk --you can just use Skim Milk too if you have that)
1 Cup of Pumpkin Puree (NOT the pie filling)
1/3 Cup of chopped Walnuts (you can add 1/3 cup of raisins too if you like but I don't!)
Directions:
1. Pre Heat Oven to 375 and grease up your muff pan
2. Mixy together the flour, baking powder, soda, salt and spices
3. In a separate bowl beat up the egg and brown sugar. Mix in the rest of the wet ingredients above.
4. Pour the wet bowl stuff into the dry bowl stuff and stir until just combined (aka don't beat the shit out of it) Lastly add the nuts and raisins.
5. Bake for approx 18 minutes of until your fork comes out dry. Mid way through I sprinkle the tops with some cinnamon sugar mix to be cute like that.
Yummy!! -- The only annoying thing is the can of Puree only comes in one size - big. Lucky for you, you have Me who has nothing better to do but taste test food all day) So here are a few ideas with what to do with the rest of the can (other than compost)
-- I freeze another measured cup in a freezer baggie so next time I make them its easier.
-- The next day I put a scoop in my oatmeal (just season the pumpkin with some cinnamon and nutmeg first)
-- Add a scoop to your Almond Milk Smoothie or whatev kind you make...
-- I have added the rest to my Oatcake recipe. I prefer them without pumpkin but they still taste good.
-- Make Pumpkin chocolate chip Cookies!!!
Did you know....
Pumpkin is loaded with the antioxidant beta-carotene, which has been shown to help improve immune function and can reduce the risk of diseases such as cancer and heart disease. In addition, pumpkins also contain many vitamins and nutrients including: calcium, iron, magnesium, potassium, zinc, selenium, niacin, folate, and vitamins A, C, and E. One cup of pumpkin contains only 50 calories and 3 grams of fiber.
I say who the hell cares - it just tastes good! buut now you can say you "learned" something today...Yes, I want the credit.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
We have Smorgasboard on Sunday...
One of the greatest things about being off work is the complete dis concern of "what day it is" All day I went around thinkin it was Tuesday. Swear to God. When I was on a schedule I never even had to think about what day it was (2 days, 11 hours and 42 seconds till Friday!!) Strange how your mind automatically prioritizes. I'm not sure what's on the top of my list now? Maybe what I'm gonna whip up for brunch and how many pelvic floor crunches I can conquer. Sadly, that is not a joke.
I am in the midst of a bathroom reno. Well, not midst as that would involve work being done, but I am picking out colors. I am thinking a grey blue for the walls, white trim, white tub insert and toilet with a black vanity and grey flooring. Open to suggestions.
I am also getting so used to living at my parents place that, dare I say might sorta kinda like it?! For example: My Mother just came into my room (keep in mind they have like 10 people over and have been boozin since 2pm) asking me how to open the cheese. So you know those slide zip lock bags? It was one of those. At first I was confused and then realized she was intoxicated. Yesterday the two of us had breakfast in bed with a bottle of Baileys and a pot of coffee. Didn't move until 2pm. Let me say it again - I fucking LOVE the country.
Also since the Golden Shower incident Stanley and I are now BFF's. He is attached to my moonboot. Never leaves my bed. It's like he marked his territory. I am his bitch for life.
Haven't made the Starbucks cookies yet. I am workin too hard on my fitness (meaning I can walk across the room without assistance) I will say however, since the surgery I am amazed at how more "aware" of my body I am. The more I move around, the better I feel. I actually felt a hard spot on my stomach yesterday - tumor? gas? mighta been a muscle spasm?! - I'm not gonna say it was an AB, but shiz it was somethin. I was told in Rehab that I actually have a "breathing disorder" -- hilarious -- YOU MEAN I CAN'T EVEN BREATH RIGHT?! So I work on "belly breathing" everyday. Shocking how something so simple is so mind numbingly difficult. My "brain damage" apparently makes me only chest breath and not use my diaphram. Apparently I use my diaphram (normal people have and use core muscles -hense my need for mentioned pelvic floor crunches) to hold myself up and that, in turn, allows me to only breath shallow through my chest. Interesting. Unfortunate that I have been pounding high doses of asthmatic steroids since the age of 2 to "open my lungs" oh, and also to make my nervous system freakin squirlier than your Grampie at a gay wedding. The medical mystery that is me, gets more interesting by the day.
I am getting slurrrrred to supper. Happy MONDAY Lovies!!
I am in the midst of a bathroom reno. Well, not midst as that would involve work being done, but I am picking out colors. I am thinking a grey blue for the walls, white trim, white tub insert and toilet with a black vanity and grey flooring. Open to suggestions.
I am also getting so used to living at my parents place that, dare I say might sorta kinda like it?! For example: My Mother just came into my room (keep in mind they have like 10 people over and have been boozin since 2pm) asking me how to open the cheese. So you know those slide zip lock bags? It was one of those. At first I was confused and then realized she was intoxicated. Yesterday the two of us had breakfast in bed with a bottle of Baileys and a pot of coffee. Didn't move until 2pm. Let me say it again - I fucking LOVE the country.
Also since the Golden Shower incident Stanley and I are now BFF's. He is attached to my moonboot. Never leaves my bed. It's like he marked his territory. I am his bitch for life.
Haven't made the Starbucks cookies yet. I am workin too hard on my fitness (meaning I can walk across the room without assistance) I will say however, since the surgery I am amazed at how more "aware" of my body I am. The more I move around, the better I feel. I actually felt a hard spot on my stomach yesterday - tumor? gas? mighta been a muscle spasm?! - I'm not gonna say it was an AB, but shiz it was somethin. I was told in Rehab that I actually have a "breathing disorder" -- hilarious -- YOU MEAN I CAN'T EVEN BREATH RIGHT?! So I work on "belly breathing" everyday. Shocking how something so simple is so mind numbingly difficult. My "brain damage" apparently makes me only chest breath and not use my diaphram. Apparently I use my diaphram (normal people have and use core muscles -hense my need for mentioned pelvic floor crunches) to hold myself up and that, in turn, allows me to only breath shallow through my chest. Interesting. Unfortunate that I have been pounding high doses of asthmatic steroids since the age of 2 to "open my lungs" oh, and also to make my nervous system freakin squirlier than your Grampie at a gay wedding. The medical mystery that is me, gets more interesting by the day.
I am getting slurrrrred to supper. Happy MONDAY Lovies!!
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Dirty Catholics
There are some things I just won't blog about. I try to keep it all about me, because it is my choice to document lame everyday life. Internet Gossip can be vicious. I mean in real life we all do it. Know what I hate? I hate the peeps (girls are THE WORST) who are all like "I'm not one to judge, and/or It might not be my place to say this...." OH COME ON. This goes right along with "I'm not racist or anything but..." Get real people. We all poop. We all laugh at the occasional racist joke (fuck most of us laugh at them all) We all want to star on So you think you can Dance. We all talk about each other. Some are just more humane about it.
In my 29 years I have heard many stories. I have lived through hilarious insanity. Reality can be deeply depressing but it can also be so refreshingly funny. It's the little things that get me goin. I have been sittin on this one for the past year or so. The fact that I still think of it regularly and actually L O L makes it a good one I think. It really makes you realize we are NOT all on the same wave length and I suppose, that's what makes the world go round. I am hyping this up now to be bigger than it is....
Please keep in mind minor details of this story have been changed to protect the innocent. Well not so innocent - you will learn as you read on. Please also note the story below may not be suitable for all readers. If you get offended easily just stop reading now.
So I once knew this girl. We ran into each other from time to time, (but in no way besties) She appears to be "normal" - average intelligence, good looking, a bit kooky but no more so than everyone else I know. This girl also happens to frequent the house of God. She has strong beliefs that involve the church. Good for her.
One day we were chillin. Havin a chat. The subject was: Boys, Guys, Dudes, Men...thoughts on the male gender, comments on our recent escapades and such. Now, as mentioned this girl has strong religious beliefs. Beliefs that include NO SEX before marriage. To each their own. So, she was detailing one of her victims, shall we say...They were makin out, things were gettin...heavy?....um, and so the dude kinda backs off as he knows this girls NO SEX rule. She is not wanting to stop so she sits up. Smiles. In a voice more serious and innocent than I can even FATHOM goes:
"Well, it doesn't count if it's in the ass"
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHK
This was the point where I literally lost my shit. BACK THE TRUCK UP. I am sure you can all picture my face upon hearing such an incredulous statement. Is this for real?! She MUST BE making this up to be funny OR she is definitely doing boys behind God's back. None of the above people! Upon further questioning she was DEAD SERIOUS. She really thought that since you can't make babies up the bum then God would be buck with her bangin down the back door. Of course she was still a Virgin! Let me repeat the statement: "IT DOESN'T COUNT IF IT'S IN THE ASS" Upon picking my chin up off the floor I continued to question: Have you made this statement to other dudes that you um date? - response: "Yeah, all the time"
Alright. So as HILARIOUS as I think this is, I gotta imagine it from the guys prospective: Your makin out with this hot chick, you know she's not gonna do you, but heck, you sit with her every week at church, she is such a "nice" girl and hey, good times. IMAGINE this same girl looking you dead in the eye (you have to remember she is not dirty talkin either) and says "Well, It doesn't count if it's in the ass" WOAH. I mean is this not every dudes DREAM? Here baby let me roll over so you can fuck me in the ass. (Woot Woot, No babies!)
Truly, when I am feeling sad this makes me smile every time without fail.
The fact that she was so nonchalant about it. At the time I still couldn't believe what I was hearing. (Let me say, I am very liberal, so it's not about the bum doings) It's her entire thought process. I went home that night thinking she HAD to be putting me on. So I did what any girl would do. Research. I happened to know a couple of her...boyfriends. I'm not gonna say how it went down, but lets just say I had one of them confirm for me that the above is absolutely true. They actually OFFERED the info. I didn't pry. (I mean how can you edge around this one lightly)
So that's my story. The story that makes me question everything I have ever known. Was Jessica Simpson really holding out for marriage or was she just bum fucking cause it really doesn't count?!!! I mean, really, maybe the church isn't so bad after all! Seriously, the fact that this person honest to goodness believed what she was saying meant that there are probably more like her. Actually, imagine her thoughts on other things. Just regular stuff! Maybe I am the crazy one here. Quite possible.
Amen.
In my 29 years I have heard many stories. I have lived through hilarious insanity. Reality can be deeply depressing but it can also be so refreshingly funny. It's the little things that get me goin. I have been sittin on this one for the past year or so. The fact that I still think of it regularly and actually L O L makes it a good one I think. It really makes you realize we are NOT all on the same wave length and I suppose, that's what makes the world go round. I am hyping this up now to be bigger than it is....
Please keep in mind minor details of this story have been changed to protect the innocent. Well not so innocent - you will learn as you read on. Please also note the story below may not be suitable for all readers. If you get offended easily just stop reading now.
So I once knew this girl. We ran into each other from time to time, (but in no way besties) She appears to be "normal" - average intelligence, good looking, a bit kooky but no more so than everyone else I know. This girl also happens to frequent the house of God. She has strong beliefs that involve the church. Good for her.
One day we were chillin. Havin a chat. The subject was: Boys, Guys, Dudes, Men...thoughts on the male gender, comments on our recent escapades and such. Now, as mentioned this girl has strong religious beliefs. Beliefs that include NO SEX before marriage. To each their own. So, she was detailing one of her victims, shall we say...They were makin out, things were gettin...heavy?....um, and so the dude kinda backs off as he knows this girls NO SEX rule. She is not wanting to stop so she sits up. Smiles. In a voice more serious and innocent than I can even FATHOM goes:
"Well, it doesn't count if it's in the ass"
OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHK
This was the point where I literally lost my shit. BACK THE TRUCK UP. I am sure you can all picture my face upon hearing such an incredulous statement. Is this for real?! She MUST BE making this up to be funny OR she is definitely doing boys behind God's back. None of the above people! Upon further questioning she was DEAD SERIOUS. She really thought that since you can't make babies up the bum then God would be buck with her bangin down the back door. Of course she was still a Virgin! Let me repeat the statement: "IT DOESN'T COUNT IF IT'S IN THE ASS" Upon picking my chin up off the floor I continued to question: Have you made this statement to other dudes that you um date? - response: "Yeah, all the time"
Alright. So as HILARIOUS as I think this is, I gotta imagine it from the guys prospective: Your makin out with this hot chick, you know she's not gonna do you, but heck, you sit with her every week at church, she is such a "nice" girl and hey, good times. IMAGINE this same girl looking you dead in the eye (you have to remember she is not dirty talkin either) and says "Well, It doesn't count if it's in the ass" WOAH. I mean is this not every dudes DREAM? Here baby let me roll over so you can fuck me in the ass. (Woot Woot, No babies!)
Truly, when I am feeling sad this makes me smile every time without fail.
The fact that she was so nonchalant about it. At the time I still couldn't believe what I was hearing. (Let me say, I am very liberal, so it's not about the bum doings) It's her entire thought process. I went home that night thinking she HAD to be putting me on. So I did what any girl would do. Research. I happened to know a couple of her...boyfriends. I'm not gonna say how it went down, but lets just say I had one of them confirm for me that the above is absolutely true. They actually OFFERED the info. I didn't pry. (I mean how can you edge around this one lightly)
So that's my story. The story that makes me question everything I have ever known. Was Jessica Simpson really holding out for marriage or was she just bum fucking cause it really doesn't count?!!! I mean, really, maybe the church isn't so bad after all! Seriously, the fact that this person honest to goodness believed what she was saying meant that there are probably more like her. Actually, imagine her thoughts on other things. Just regular stuff! Maybe I am the crazy one here. Quite possible.
Amen.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Ode to Cat Pee
I have a cat. His name is Stanley. He is 16 years old. Stan is missin a few teeth, a few marbles and weighs in at a svelte 18lbs. He is very demanding. Due to his size and age he gets whatever he wants whenever he wants. Since my parents have been in Alberta I have been the farm hand on the weekends and my Aunt through the week. Stan has a bad habit of waking up at 3am for a pee break. Here's the thing: I think that is BOGUS. If he relieves himself late enough in the night there is NO need for this. He is just being a fat bastard. I refuse to do it, and so my unfortunate story begins....
I decided last night to sleep in my parents bed. Creepy? Yes. However, for those of you who have experienced the "cloud in paradise" feeling that is sleepin in such bed then you would be doin it too. (and they weren't IN the bed!) The point being, my parents room is all the way UPSTAIRS. It takes immense effort on my part, but considering the rents get back today I felt it would be worth it. Around 11pm Earle was in his doggie bed (Simon was MIA) and Stanley waddled along with me. Watched some Project Runway (yay!) enjoyed approximately 13 mini O'Henry's and 6 mini bags of Reeses Pieces (yum!) and fell asleep.
You know how your Mom always says not to go to bed on a full stomach cause you'll have bad dreams?! Damnit why are they always right?! It was the kinda dream where you are still in bed and everything looks the same but it's REAL SCARY. I knew it was a dream and kept saying "wake up, wake up, wake up...." I would wake up, and then just go right back into the dream again. It was a cruel punishment for a girl who can't move quickly and just ate herself happy. When I did finally get outta the dream sequence it was 3am. Stanley was snoring beside me (deviated septum due to an unfortunate meeting with a Cougar - a real life one - not your Mom) Turned on the lamp. Listened to the rain. Told myself I wasn't scared, even though I am in the middle of The Blair Witch K-Penny Project... Eventually fell back asleep, but not before I realized I hadn't locked the door. No one will steal me lookin like this.
4AM: Woke up to Stan the Man banging his HUGE paw against the door. Fuck. Didn't move. He continued.
4:15: Stan is now beside my head batting my eye with his huge ass paw. Blew air in his face and told him to lye down and stop being a pussy.
4:20: Wailing. The cat, not me.
4:45: Stanley is now throwing himself against the door to the bathroom because it makes a loud clatter noise. I consider strangling him. I am NOT getting up until at least 6am to let him out. My leg is throbbing. I cover my head with the pillow.
5:30: He is now eating/licking my hair and purring louder than my hair dryer (head still firmly under the pillow)
5:45: Must have dozed off for a second because I jumped out of my skin when he squawked in my ear. Blew in his face again. Since I was still on my tummy, he crawled on my back. Silence. Why are my feet wet? wait, my legs....Oh fuck no.
5:50: Stanley peed. GERIATRIC PEE at that. Not only did he pee the bed but he chose to PISS ALL OVER ME. I am going to beat the furry bastard with my Moonboot. There are few things in life that smell worse than Stanley pee. I was haggard as Shiz about it. He ran down the stairs faster than I have seen him move in at least 10 years. I didn't yell as I really was speechless. It took me about 9 minutes to get downstairs to let him out. Thankfully, there was an extra thick kinda plastic mattress cover under the fitted sheet (I realize that is mildly alarming and kinda gross?) but anyway it didn't ruin the mattress.
6:15: In shower scrubbing the piss off my body.
6:20: Dump baking soda, stain remover and extra detergent all over the bedding and learn how to use my Mama's heavy duty front loader (don't tell though, I thoroughly enjoy the free laundry service)
6:30: Gimp downstairs. Took some pain pills. Climb into my real bed. Sigh. Hear scratching at the door. Oops, forgot to let Earley the dog back in. Swear. Hobble to the door. Let Earl in. I love Earl. He never once has pissed on me.
6:35: Climb in bed AGAIN. Close my eyes. Is that snoring?! Open one eye. Sweet shit it's Stanley lying beside me. He must have snuck back in when I let the Dog in. Smile. He's old. He couldn't hold it. He was just layin the smack down. Showin me who's boss. I love him anyway.
Stanley Rules.
I decided last night to sleep in my parents bed. Creepy? Yes. However, for those of you who have experienced the "cloud in paradise" feeling that is sleepin in such bed then you would be doin it too. (and they weren't IN the bed!) The point being, my parents room is all the way UPSTAIRS. It takes immense effort on my part, but considering the rents get back today I felt it would be worth it. Around 11pm Earle was in his doggie bed (Simon was MIA) and Stanley waddled along with me. Watched some Project Runway (yay!) enjoyed approximately 13 mini O'Henry's and 6 mini bags of Reeses Pieces (yum!) and fell asleep.
You know how your Mom always says not to go to bed on a full stomach cause you'll have bad dreams?! Damnit why are they always right?! It was the kinda dream where you are still in bed and everything looks the same but it's REAL SCARY. I knew it was a dream and kept saying "wake up, wake up, wake up...." I would wake up, and then just go right back into the dream again. It was a cruel punishment for a girl who can't move quickly and just ate herself happy. When I did finally get outta the dream sequence it was 3am. Stanley was snoring beside me (deviated septum due to an unfortunate meeting with a Cougar - a real life one - not your Mom) Turned on the lamp. Listened to the rain. Told myself I wasn't scared, even though I am in the middle of The Blair Witch K-Penny Project... Eventually fell back asleep, but not before I realized I hadn't locked the door. No one will steal me lookin like this.
4AM: Woke up to Stan the Man banging his HUGE paw against the door. Fuck. Didn't move. He continued.
4:15: Stan is now beside my head batting my eye with his huge ass paw. Blew air in his face and told him to lye down and stop being a pussy.
4:20: Wailing. The cat, not me.
4:45: Stanley is now throwing himself against the door to the bathroom because it makes a loud clatter noise. I consider strangling him. I am NOT getting up until at least 6am to let him out. My leg is throbbing. I cover my head with the pillow.
5:30: He is now eating/licking my hair and purring louder than my hair dryer (head still firmly under the pillow)
5:45: Must have dozed off for a second because I jumped out of my skin when he squawked in my ear. Blew in his face again. Since I was still on my tummy, he crawled on my back. Silence. Why are my feet wet? wait, my legs....Oh fuck no.
5:50: Stanley peed. GERIATRIC PEE at that. Not only did he pee the bed but he chose to PISS ALL OVER ME. I am going to beat the furry bastard with my Moonboot. There are few things in life that smell worse than Stanley pee. I was haggard as Shiz about it. He ran down the stairs faster than I have seen him move in at least 10 years. I didn't yell as I really was speechless. It took me about 9 minutes to get downstairs to let him out. Thankfully, there was an extra thick kinda plastic mattress cover under the fitted sheet (I realize that is mildly alarming and kinda gross?) but anyway it didn't ruin the mattress.
6:15: In shower scrubbing the piss off my body.
6:20: Dump baking soda, stain remover and extra detergent all over the bedding and learn how to use my Mama's heavy duty front loader (don't tell though, I thoroughly enjoy the free laundry service)
6:30: Gimp downstairs. Took some pain pills. Climb into my real bed. Sigh. Hear scratching at the door. Oops, forgot to let Earley the dog back in. Swear. Hobble to the door. Let Earl in. I love Earl. He never once has pissed on me.
6:35: Climb in bed AGAIN. Close my eyes. Is that snoring?! Open one eye. Sweet shit it's Stanley lying beside me. He must have snuck back in when I let the Dog in. Smile. He's old. He couldn't hold it. He was just layin the smack down. Showin me who's boss. I love him anyway.
Stanley Rules.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Retail Therapy
Online shopping = PURE JOY
Lately I have been holding back. Today however - I just couldn't help it! I have wanted this dress FOREVER (you can NEVER have enough Sun dresses!!) and it finally went on sale (marked down to 19.99! - Prolly cause I am the only fool who buys em in the Winter) Of course they can be worn year round with a bit of tweaking. Sooooo I ordered some um... accessories too. Aren't the Boots fantastic? Nothin roughs up some ruffles like a good biker boot! Ahh and the cable knit tights, cute heart belt and the always versatile yellow cardi....
Thursday, October 15, 2009
C O O K I E C R A Z Y
I love cookies.
I love coffee.
I love friends.
When I received a email titled: "I'm breaking you outta Rehab for some Starbucks" this morning my heart did a little dance. The macarana to be exact. First of all, let me say, I am NOT a coffee snob. I do not frequent Starbucks. I'm all over the home-brew. Just last year I was enlightened to the fact that Espresso was in fact not pronounced (or spelled for that matter) EXpresso. Meih, I thought more caffeine (apparently this is untrue as well by the way) therefor wouldn't it make sense that it is coffee a la EXPRESS? Perfect reasoning no? Anyhow, I do find the coffee list at such cafe's intimidating. The jargon gets me a bit discombobulated. So I did what I do best: ORDER COOKIES! I know a good cookie when I taste one and kids THIS IS PERFECTION. It was worth the full two bones. Heck, I would pay ten for this big piece of sugared PARADISE. I'm telling you, if you appreciate a good treat get your ass to the nearest Starbucks and order a GINGER MOLASSES COOKIE. I was enjoying it so much I informed Melis (my savior) that I MUST blog about it right then and there. I taste tested her "Americana" (EXpresso mixed with water) with a shot of sugar free vanilla and it was worth ordering as well. I am still happy with my black dark roast (but if I get nervous in the future I now have a back up) Back to the cookie: First of all it's HUGE. It's wonderfully crisp on the outside and soft yet slightly chewy on the inside. The spices are perfect. The amount of sugar ALL OVER is perfect. THIS IS THE PERFECT COOKIE. Actually, upon searching for a picture I found a RECIPE. Please note I am going to test this out on the weekend so expect a full report.
I love coffee.
I love friends.
When I received a email titled: "I'm breaking you outta Rehab for some Starbucks" this morning my heart did a little dance. The macarana to be exact. First of all, let me say, I am NOT a coffee snob. I do not frequent Starbucks. I'm all over the home-brew. Just last year I was enlightened to the fact that Espresso was in fact not pronounced (or spelled for that matter) EXpresso. Meih, I thought more caffeine (apparently this is untrue as well by the way) therefor wouldn't it make sense that it is coffee a la EXPRESS? Perfect reasoning no? Anyhow, I do find the coffee list at such cafe's intimidating. The jargon gets me a bit discombobulated. So I did what I do best: ORDER COOKIES! I know a good cookie when I taste one and kids THIS IS PERFECTION. It was worth the full two bones. Heck, I would pay ten for this big piece of sugared PARADISE. I'm telling you, if you appreciate a good treat get your ass to the nearest Starbucks and order a GINGER MOLASSES COOKIE. I was enjoying it so much I informed Melis (my savior) that I MUST blog about it right then and there. I taste tested her "Americana" (EXpresso mixed with water) with a shot of sugar free vanilla and it was worth ordering as well. I am still happy with my black dark roast (but if I get nervous in the future I now have a back up) Back to the cookie: First of all it's HUGE. It's wonderfully crisp on the outside and soft yet slightly chewy on the inside. The spices are perfect. The amount of sugar ALL OVER is perfect. THIS IS THE PERFECT COOKIE. Actually, upon searching for a picture I found a RECIPE. Please note I am going to test this out on the weekend so expect a full report.
Ps. For my Vegan/Irritable Bowel Buddies you will be thrilled to know this delight is DAIRY FREE!!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Don't hate the Playa....
The other day, a friend of the male variety, advised me I am "emotionally unavailable". Interesting. Got me to thinking: DING DING DING?!?! He went on to use words such as: guarded, self destructive, game player....
This led me to question his sexuality. What a pussy right?!!
Regardless, I have taken a few days to let this marinate. Sink in. Mr. Sensitive couldn't possibly be correct?!! Coined the social genius (self coined that is) I get it. I know I take upper hand to the extreme...I guess it comes down to insecurity. I hate to use that word (it actually HURTS me to type) However in an effort to be real here, what am I so afraid of?! I turn off any emotion, drink ungodly amounts of vodka (don't even get me started on the smokes) and if the mood strikes, I might even bang you senseless. (Gosh can I say that on the Internet? Sorry Mom, MIGHT being the keyword) Wow. You better watch out cause , God forbid, I actually like you not only will I pretend you don't exist but if/when forced into conversation I'll make sure to put you down in the worst back handed "no offence" kinda way. Woah. If you're REALLY lucky I'll make out with your best buddy right in front of you (after said Vodka) Classssy. What a catch I am. Horrifying! Fear of rejection is supposed to be a guy thing right?! I mean I get the whole "No Daddy syndrome" AKA Screw anything that walks lookin for love....Thankfully NOT my issue, but where do I get off thinking THIS is any better?!! My Vag may be a bit cleaner but mentally am I not just as effed?!?!
I don't even have any 'woe is me stories' My past BF's/dates/Do's....have been nothing but, um, respectful and decent. It's not like I can use the "I have been hurt and therefore am jaded" excuse. I really do like myself.
SO W T F?!!!!
In closing, Once you know better, you do better (says Oprah) So maybe a specific reason (like um, insecurity) isn't needed. I'll lose the UHS (upper hand syndrome) and play nice already.
I wanna prove you RIGHT Gaylord Focker! (and no I will NOT bang you senseless)
XOXO
This led me to question his sexuality. What a pussy right?!!
Regardless, I have taken a few days to let this marinate. Sink in. Mr. Sensitive couldn't possibly be correct?!! Coined the social genius (self coined that is) I get it. I know I take upper hand to the extreme...I guess it comes down to insecurity. I hate to use that word (it actually HURTS me to type) However in an effort to be real here, what am I so afraid of?! I turn off any emotion, drink ungodly amounts of vodka (don't even get me started on the smokes) and if the mood strikes, I might even bang you senseless. (Gosh can I say that on the Internet? Sorry Mom, MIGHT being the keyword) Wow. You better watch out cause , God forbid, I actually like you not only will I pretend you don't exist but if/when forced into conversation I'll make sure to put you down in the worst back handed "no offence" kinda way. Woah. If you're REALLY lucky I'll make out with your best buddy right in front of you (after said Vodka) Classssy. What a catch I am. Horrifying! Fear of rejection is supposed to be a guy thing right?! I mean I get the whole "No Daddy syndrome" AKA Screw anything that walks lookin for love....Thankfully NOT my issue, but where do I get off thinking THIS is any better?!! My Vag may be a bit cleaner but mentally am I not just as effed?!?!
I don't even have any 'woe is me stories' My past BF's/dates/Do's....have been nothing but, um, respectful and decent. It's not like I can use the "I have been hurt and therefore am jaded" excuse. I really do like myself.
SO W T F?!!!!
In closing, Once you know better, you do better (says Oprah) So maybe a specific reason (like um, insecurity) isn't needed. I'll lose the UHS (upper hand syndrome) and play nice already.
I wanna prove you RIGHT Gaylord Focker! (and no I will NOT bang you senseless)
XOXO
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