nestle is bad

yuck. keep this in mind while buying halloween candies.

do not buy anything from nestle. bad bad bad

http://www.cultureunplugged.com/documentary/watch-online/festival/play/4809/The-Dark-Side-of-Chocolate

Zombie Survival Plan.

So this week i've had to come to terms with an irrational fear that I have of those Lifeless sacks of flesh called zombies.

Now generally I can deal with scary movies (*As long as I look through my fingers) and I am pretty capable of dissuading myself into believing that the chances of being attacked by a serial killer or in the fashion of some SAW movie (*which I have never seen nor do I plan to - I firmly believe that ignorance in this case is bliss.) is statistically one in a million. - I also use this reverse affect when it comes to buying things while shopping. . .*Sigh*.

So Man and I sat down and watched season 1 of The Walking Dead on netflix.

Mistake.

HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THAT SHOW?! The first four minutes went something like this:

Babe- you are gonna LOVE this show. trust me

mmm i Dunno. . .I still . . .auh. . . I like zombies but . . . okay lets try.

*Two minutes later*

NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO F*%$ING WAY. sorry. you can watch this alone.

aaaaand thats all I saw of episode one.

Man continued to watch epi two and I read my book and listened to music in the other room. With man feeling under the weather, he stayed in bed all day. Taking this rare opportunity to cuddle the living bezeejus out of him (*Who is constantly on the go moving moving moving) and let my nursing instincts kick in. Toast with a little butter, Ginger ale, assortment of crackers.

Wanting to spend time with him. I stayed for episode three.

By the end of the season, my head was nothing but a blur of "What if"s "Holy Sh!t"s and a lot of "ohmigawdd we are all gonna die once this thing goes down". (*Thing = zombie apocalypse clearly)

That night was beyond sleepless. If I got a total of two hours I will be very surprised.

every sound outside - Zombies.

Rustle of an animal in the tree - Zombies climbing over fences to eat me.

Silence - Zombies staring at me through the window thinking about how pink and creative my brain must taste like and how they would like to eat it or maybe fry it up with some farva beans and a nice bottle of chianti. . . Some times I let myself get carried away.

I was upset for the first time in my life over not knowing how to assemble and fire a gun. and I mentally kicked myself for not asking my parents to put me into archery as a child or ask for a cross bow for christmas (*re-useable amo, smart right?)

After some furious texting to my support crew back home, someone thankfully sent me a very helpfull link that I will post belong to quelle your fears too.

I rolled over to him who was sort of awake after all my uncomfortable shifting in bed.

- hey. are you awake?

mummble mummble bleh? mummble

okay perfect. heres the plan. zombie-pocolipse - we get your gun. get on the motorcycle and head straight for Canada. Zombies freeze.

mummble mummble wha? mummble

Okay or Arizona, they cant stand heat. THEN Canada.

mummble okay canada, arizona.

Did you lock the doors?!

are you serious right now?

. . . maybe. . .

*SIGH*

okay fiiiine im scared. im terrified and i haven't slept all night. IF they are real and they come don't let me be one. get it over with before and make sure to take care of me first cause you know you have to shoot them int he head and destroy the brain and i don't think i could do that to you, you know i'm not that strong of a person, I would really freak out about it and I just cant handle that kind of...

goodnight K.

Now that I have formulated A zombie plan, went through the house and backyard and found everything that would be a good weapon and how to use them. I feel okay.

Next for the time: Paranormal Activity 2.

whyyyy do I put myself through this?! . . . I wonder how receptive the other watchers would be to maybe watching Cloudy with a chance of meatballs instead. . .

http://www.cracked.com/article_18683_7-scientific-reasons-zombie-outbreak-would-fail-quickly.html

justice and equality for all muffins.

last night i did something ive never done before. prepare to be ultra mega impressed with my ferociousness and vigilance.

Last night in class was muffin making. wa-flippin-who right? anyways. Upon making the blueberry muffins (*Of which the recipe i was not pleased with. Not that they were gross but im a gall who likes to see some rise and volume on a muffin.) anyways, not wanting to stick to plain blueberry i scoured around to see what else could get thrown into the mix. walnuts-yes. ginger-yes. d-lish!

so the muffins are a bakin away and we take them out and they look great and taste good. time to get us some grades on these bad boys!

the class (all done within pretty close times) clamour around chef "check this, eat this grade thiiiis!" we whine like baby birds.

he looks at mine. "blueberry ginger and walnut chef" intrigued, he rips off a top and tastes. "a little too dry" 8/10. okay well 80% isnt baaad. not what I wanted but i understand.

I confer with my three other group members.

to my astonishment, they all got between 9 and 9 2/3 .

WHAT THE BLOG!? I marched back to the chef.

"Chef? . . . what the hell?. . . why did i get an 8 and they got 9 somthins?!"

"yours was dry."

"okay but we all used the same batter in the same tins for the same time. we baked them all together. there is NO way that one of them is baked more than the others. "

It turns out he didnt even taste the rest of the groups.

"Chef you only tasted mine because it had ginger in it. Its not fair. "

further arguing.

finally he pooled our grades and gave us all an even 9.

I walked out feeling so brave. 90% is better than 80% for suuuure!

muffin equality is all I ask.

Car is broken again.shock. and its the power stearing. again. which is a huuuge frustration for me because i am again without wheels. last night he came and picked me up in a work truck. A big diesel truck with a flat bed capable of moving ungodly amounts of stuff. this thing was a mini monster truck.

"Okay you drive this home and ill drive your car"

terror.

the rumble of that cars engine sounded like an angry dog chewing rocks. I was so high up that my feet could reach the peddles but if i wasnt touching them, were dangling. I whooped and hollered in the truck when i was all alone and mad crazy noises as I was diving. It was awesome. I felt like i was riding in a transformer. mooooove plebeians, out of me waaay!

90%, equality and a monster truck ride. awesome.

A Plead for Normal's sake.

hello hello helllloooo,

I think this might be the first blog that im writing to you in particular, whoever is reading this. As of late, nearly every single one of my posts has prompted the "Are you okay?" 's, the " I read your blog, you sound sad" or the "lets talk about it".

People pleeeease.

Please dont think that for one minute I dont appreciate the concern because I do but honestly. . .

This is life.

Sometimes you feel bad an sometimes you feel great. I use this blog as a place to rant and rave about whatever I feel like. Its your decision to read it. Please dont think that I dont want you to read it because I obviously do but take what I say with a grain of salt.

Arguments- happen. Bad days - Happen.

Your allowed to feel sad sometimes and happy others and just plain bananas if thats how you feel.

Life.Goes.On.

I havent changed who I am and if I had been writing a blog like this three years ago im sure it would sound very similar.

So please dont be concerned when you read these entries. I dont want to stop writing or have to get a new blog or sensor the things I write about because I know ill get a back lash from people.

I'm Fine.

Im cruising the path of life right now whatever bumps and bruises I get along the way ARE OKAY.

Trust me. If I really need help, the people who are near and dear to my heart will hear about it.

I believe in myself to get said self through.

I believe even more strongly in my family and friends who will be there for me when I cant.

Cammon y'all lets just have a good time. So unless I call crying or post something outright insane. . . im okay. okay enough to write about it and share it.

trust me

Choose the Choice of Choosing ( Vitamin D-lightful )

Im pretty interested in right now.

im sitting in bed, lap top on lap. Bottom of my jaw sticking out a little, lips pouting and shifting my squinty eyes side to side.

Im thinking. pondering. I am trying to choose my choice.

lets kick it one time shall we?

Sooo last night wasnt great. this morning things were a little better. A heat wave has struck Southern California and unlike my usual october months back home, I find myself sitting in a tshirt and shorts, my skin slightly damp with sweat. Now, I finished my midterm on tuesday for the class i have on tuesday and thursday so I have today off. . . It is a Gorgeous day outside and im in here moping. . .

BUTTTTT. . . . I could just as easily not mope about. . . right?

Its my choice. MY choice. and frankly I dont feel like wasting this day. . . I could so easier do it. throw a movie on a ignore the world. . . orrr. . .

woah woah hold on.

amazing.

as if some que from a movie had happened, the highschool marching band down the street strikes up a tune.

making every move I make EPIC.

I walk inside, have my halfcupofcoffee poop (* okay lets not be bashful here we all have them ) and strut back outside to finish my other half cup of coffee, finish off my morning bowl and decide to choose.

I choooose to be happy. Arguments happen. fact. But im not going to let it ruin my day. how insulting is that to a gorgeous day? Some people dont even HAVE another day. some people are Inside BEGGING to be outside. Who am I do turn down a day like today or any day really? I've been given another day. wow.

*Que epic music high point.

you know what. im gonna hang out for a little while and enjoy bed (*its only 8am so i am validating that.) and then, whenever i feel like it. im gonna slather on my second skin (SPF 30 or higher. who are we kidding here) pack a bag and bike to the beach. im gonna bring a towel and my book and a ten dollar bill and see what adventure I end up with.

I choose to be happier.

what choice are you choosing to choose?

Dark chocolate problems with a Lemon Zinger

A week ago I could have been institutionalized. I looked the part.

The kitchen is a mess - Bowls and cups and spoons lay scattered and abandoned on one side looking like a cooking pantry monster the size of Godzilla (*well proportionately to a spoon of course) just lay waste to them,cream cheese, flour, sugar, eggs, cocoa powder, baking soda and powder all thrown like a tornado had hit.

a mixer on the counter with lemon cup cake batter in it, sitting patiently to be poured and baked

while I stood there trying not to cry, in my "attract the lads" attire - ie. sweatpants and bruce springsteen T.

The brownies i had taken out of the oven, where ruining me. I cant put it more plainly than that. thinking about the ordeal now makes me debate about getting a little drink before I go on.

First off, they didn't look as good as i wanted. with hopes of creating the look of marbled cream cheese into top of the brownies but with no recipe, I relied on my cunning wit and problem solving skills to make it happen. - mistake #1.

First of all, when you do that marbling effect, you have the dark and the white batters together and then take a tooth pick and drag it up and down your goo in lines going alternate directions.

Well see an important piece of that puzzle is that the two goos have to be of the same consistency or else you'll have an awful go at it. - that right there? mistake #2.

So with what was supposed to be an elegant looking "oh my miss may how did you do that?" turned into " Ah crap. ms may whhhyyyy did you dooo thhhhaaattt?!"

my lines looked just like this -> /\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\. Blarg.

But I decided that once I baked it, I would just cut them diagonally and then use the mistake as a sort of chic looking design and absolutely not some covered up mistake. . .

After taking them out of the oven, I feel the top, okay we want fudgey and its still soft so

"Weeee haaave FUDDDDGGGGEYYYYY!" ( I said out loud to myself in my best Oprah voice)

*flip the pan and try to take them out.*

jiggle jiggle jiggle

Jiggly Jiggle Jiggle

Aggressively Jiggle

Okkkkkay no problem-o they are just stuck to the pan. ill cut around the edges and pop goes the weasel, they should be out.

after cutting the edges of my brownies with surgical like skills, i grab both ends of the parchment paper underneath and begin lifting the brownies out of the pan and onto the counter. (Mistake #3) And then it happened.

slowly I saw them. Fissures cracking and splitting my master piece ( well mostly masterpiece). Inside them i could see what every baker dreads. goo. wet.goo.

*PaNiC*

I would say that the brownies were about 75% cooked maybe even 80% baked but unfortunately. that doesn't cut it.

I talk to myself while i'm baking and the next few minutes went something like this:

no

no

no

NO

NO

NO!

Are you kidding me?

are you serious right now?!

COMMON! WHAT THE EFF IS YOUR PROBLEM BROWNIES?!

wwwwhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

no non ononononononononono

*outraged cry*

- at this point to put something back in the oven would be kind of redundant. they will not reach the optimal baking temp again and especially since they have been removed and partially cooled.

But I had to try.

While I was letting the brownies cool before starting on this adventure, I had filled the cupcake tins with the lemon cupcakes (*Also a new recipe i was trying) and had put them in the oven. So I popped the door open and threw the brownies back in. looking somewhat like the grand canyon from a topical map. only made with dark chocolate and espresso.

The timer for the cupcakes goes off and they look heavenly. little lemon angels perfectly shaped and perfectly springy and over all awesome.

brownies still look like goo.

It feels like days are going by as I stair into the oven willing the brownies to magically fix themselves. Time passes until I think to myself that I might as well take them out and salvage what I can out of them before I have burnt sides.

I take them out and to my relief, they look . . . less. . . gooey.

while staring at the pan I figure out that logically, these are going to be hideous anyway I cut them.

Any way I cut them. . . cut them cut them cut them. . . Lightbulb.

I scour the kitchen that isn't mine and clearly inhibited by only men until I find it. A Shot glass.

looking at my mess of dark chocolate espresso brownies, I gulp and hold my breath.

Flipping the shot glass over, I used the open end to cut out little circles of brownie.

Oh. mah. gawd. Its working. . . I began popping out these little baby bite size brownies ...that didn't look half bad! Sweet baby cheeses this might just save me.

after an hour of painstakingly cutting out little brownie circles and i'll admit it, frankenstein-ing some pieces together. I had a batch of brownies.

I whipped up a quick cream cheese frosting for the cupcakes, packed the fail proof dip that I made earlier and headed off to the party.

Upon my arrival, I set up my dip in a nice bowl, my brownies on a cute plate. I iced my cupcakes and threw a few little yellow sprinkles on top. turning around with my cupcakes, I see another women walking in, plate in hand. of cupcakes.

Lemon cupcakes.

we look at each other and at our competition cakes.

Oh lady IT IS ON. I said with my eyes as I smiled sweetly. somehow that came out as "those look great!"

We set them side by side and she looked at me. half joking and half threatening "well, I guess we'll just have to leave it to the ladies and have a taste test now wont we?"

those words in the baking world mean war. it might as well have been two french men deciding to duel asking "Pistols or swords"

"yes I guess we will" I smiled.

This women had what I would call "the grandma's advantage" in that she was older. Which through the laws of delicious cooking generally means that she should have the upper hand, for grandmas are usually the master of tasty treats.

"OH MY GOD WHAT ARE THESE PIECES OF HEAVEN?!" someone shrieked behind me.

I turned to see a gaggle of women surrounding the food like hens on corn kernels.

"IN-(a word that rhymes with Buck)-ING-CREDIBLE." said another.

the cause of the commotion - my brownies.

*Sigh* ^_^

at the end of the night I left, my plate of brownies empty accept for the crumbs and people asking me to make them for the next party, one lady even offering to pay me to make more.

My plate of cupcakes were significantly lower in numbers too that of my competition.

I walked slowly and calmly to the bathroom.

Locked the door.

And threw down the more outrageous victory dance the NFL has never seen.

come sit with me my darling my darling,

come sit with me in the rain.

and let the rain wash over you charming,

whispers of home once again.

my feet are wet dear sweetheart dear sweetheart

dry earth begins to sigh.

soft raindrops kissing my toes in the grass

and a happier lady am I.

come sit with me my darling my darling,

come sit with me in the rain.

and let the rain wash over you charming,

whispers of home again.

leap in the puddles my honey my honey

lift your arms to the sky

twirl all about, dance and shout

face covered in kisses from up high.

I stand in the rain my love O my love,

clothes soaked clear through to the bone

a smile sits, on little lips

and I feel not quite so alone.

Come sit with me my darling my darling,

come sit with me in the rain.

and let the rain wash over you charming,

whispers of home again.