Tuesday, March 31, 2009


Look, I wish I wasn't so excited about this...but I am..so deal with it.

Geez...will you look at his abs? Michael Phelps? Who?

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Carbomb meets Whoopie Pie

That's right friends...the two most amazing things I make.....put together.
Last night, my lovely assistant (my pink mixer) and myself whipped up a batch of Guinness whoopies with Bailey's filling.

They are going over pretty well, and I'm excited, because they are really my first 100% original recipe. It's been suggested that I submit them to the America's Best Home Cooks show on Food Network. It's being considered.

Happy St. Patty's all!!!

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


Once, in college someone sent me a link to a website that alleged to tell you, based on your preferences, how many men you would have to meet before you met your soul mate. A Soul Mate Calculator I believe.
I remember answering the questions as truthfully as possible, wondering if I'd have to meet 2, or maybe 5. Or worst case scenario...10. I was around 23, and I think I figured it was about damn time.
The answer.....

Being me, I immediately started to attempt to define the word "met." Are we talking passing on the street? Did I have to introduce myself or would a "Do you have the time?" suffice? Or, God forbid, was the universe expecting me to go out on 4, 057 dates before I found someone who would think I was wonderful.

In true optimistic form, I decided that every man I made eye contact with counted. Even the ones that fell outside of my criteria. I'd get through 4,057 meetings in no time, and be happily wrapped in an afghan on my couch with the object of my affection by 24!

I bet you all can guess the outcome of this. Here I am, at 28, and I have just been reminded by life that I have at least 2,843 left to go. And I can no longer optimistically decide that every man under the age of 85 who glances my way at the crosswalk counts. Nope...I am starting to think that I can only count people I've had a real conversation with. This is depressing.

If you need me, I'll be eating a pint of Hagen Daaz and watching romantic comedies in my bed.

Monday, March 9, 2009


I am a very self sufficient woman. I'm not the best at asking for help actually. If something is too much for me, you can usually find me cussing at it to the point of tears, stubbornly trying to bend the project to my will. I have utter confidence that these are things that I CAN do. It's just a matter of trying and trying. And trying. And maybe screaming at it a little.
So with that set up in place, let me tell you what I decided to do this weekend. I was going to wall mount my TV.
Stop laughing.
So I have already purchased a cheap wall mount from Ikea. I know this is maybe not the best place to cut corners, but I couldn't resist. So cheap! Problem is that the damn thing doesn't fit. How was I supposed to know that each TV manufacturer hatched a plan to put their screw holes in different places. I can just imagine some weaselly guy in a suit somewhere, rubbing his bony fingered hands together in anticipation of the frustration he would cause.
So I discover that you can get an adapter. Someone at the Radio Shack near my office tells me that it's a really simple thing if I know the model of my TV.
Friday I ran into Radio Shack in my own neighborhood. Just a quick trip, because I know what I want. But they don't carry adapters. He tries to talk me into an entirely different wall mount. I get kind of upset, because he's talking to me like I'm an idiot. Clearly because I do not possess a Y chromosome, I can't know what I'm talking about in relation to home improvement or electronics. Certainly not in an area where the two cross over.
But I buy the thing. He assures me that it swivels and tilts and is everything my old one was, and it will fit my TV because it is universal. I figure he must know what he's talking about if he works in an electronic store.
Stop laughing.
I was also proud of myself for not punching him in the face when he was ringing up my purchase and explaining that inside the walls, there is insulation, and things called studs. I know he was trying to be nice...but come on jackass. Who doesn't know that walls are not made of jello and have actual supports in them.
Next I stopped by the hardware store, where I was going to pick up a stud finder and an electric screwdriver. I honestly did not know that this would not drive the screws in unless there was a hole there already. The guy who explained that did so in a voice that suggested that he thought I was either retarded, or did not speak English. And that I was violent. He carefully removed the screwdriver from my hands saying "ooh, I'm going to take this from you now...and I'm just going to put it over here. " Okay guy. I won't drive it into your eye.
So, stud finder, hammer, screws, anchors and a wall mount in hand, I go back to my apartment. I had an assignment to go to a new store for a drill. I COULD do this.
And then I discovered that the wall mount was not what I wanted. Not at all. It didn't swivel, and that means that due to how my room is set up, I'd have to sit in the corner to watch TV. Ideal.
I realize this is dragging on...but it's unbelievable. I went to Best Buy the next day at 9. They open at 10, even though the website said 9. I waited. I finally bought a swiveling, tilting wall mount that fits the screw holes in my TV. The guy didn't talk down to me. I spent twice as much as I intended. But I got an open box deal, so it was good. I get it home, and decide that after the cable guy comes (somewhere between 12-2) I'd go get a drill. I was actually hoping that he might do the installation for me at this point. I opened the box to start putting it together. screws? Check. TV attaching plate? Check. Swivel arm? Check. Instruction manual? um...where the hell is the manual?!?!? Oh Christ.
By the way....the cable guy finally showed up at 3:45.
Screw DIY. Next time, I'm hiring a dude.