Okay, it cures more than just writer’s block. It helps that stuck feeling. That “I have so many things I should be doing—but I can’t seem to process it all, so, what now?” feeling. That “I’ve got five loads of laundry to fold and my dog wont stop barking at the squirrels in our yard and all I really want to do it watch a lot of Bravo TV or hide under a large heap of blankets” feeling. That “I thought I would get fancy and try to wax my Italian Lady Sideburns off. Oh crap…that didn’t go as planned. Now I have what can only be described as a Blemish-Beard” feeling. True story. Ugh. The regrets. Continue reading
Happy Valentines Day, Friends! I hope you’re feeling loved today, because I love the heck out of you. Yeah, that’r right. I’m dropping L-bombs all over the place. Shouting it from the rooftops. Standing outside your window with a boombox. Getting together with some of my internet friends and giving away a sexy 14 cup food processor. You know, all the classic affectionate gestures.
Since my husband is out of the country on business being all fancy and schmancy, this is going to be my first Valentines Day alone in nine years. We’re not crazy about Valentines Day, so we morphed it into the much more exciting holiday which we aptly named Steak and Lobster Day. It’s exactly what it sounds like. I wrote about it last year when I made you these waffles. It feels weird not celebrating this year. Someone should be here to look lovingly into my eyes as we eat steak. #Marriage. But alas, It’s just not in the cards this year. So, you, my friends get to be my valentines. I hope you’re cool with that. Should I pass you one of those notes where you can check off Yes, No or Maybe? I can live with a Maybe. Or we could just make
one four of these desserts from my Valentines Day Recipe Round-Up and express our affection with donuts. Perhaps I will make donuts be my valentine this year. Totally normal. Continue reading
Holy Cupid! It’s totally almost Valentines Day. I know this because my calendar is telling me it’s February. I’m totally on top of things. Don’t worry (okay, maybe worry a little). I feel like I am losing track of time and space, but that’s nothing new.
Have you ever noticed how polarizing this time of year is? There’s that awkward divide between the people clamoring to get into a schmancy restaurant with an expensive prefixed menu and the slightly bitter people who feel like going out and throwing old crusty sandwiches at anyone who dares play a little tonsil hockey in front of them. Boom. Did you just grab that girls butt? You get this old pastrami right in the face. I totally get it. I’ve been on both sides of this holiday. Not that I ever chucked sandwiches… but, I’m not going to say it’s never crossed my mind. Now, as a boring-but-kind-of-in-a-charming-way-married-person, I kind of fall somewhere in the middle. It gives me an excuse to write my husband a love letter (not that I should need one) while also capitalizing on the sale of both steak and lobster. We literally call it Steak and Lobster Day. I find this to be way more exciting than a bunch of roses or even one of those singing teddy bears. Feed me some turf with a side of surf and that speaks to my heart. Is that a fillet? Let’s makeout. Continue reading
So, remember last week when we did our virtual rain dance while chowing down on these scones? Well, IT WORKED! As I’m writing this, the skies are stormy and the raindrops are pounding rhythmically off of my roof. There are puddles. I should know. Emma jumped in one earlier. This is one of the hazards of Golden Retriever ownership. That whole “I’m a water dog” thing? Yeah, that runs deeps. Instincts are real. Where Emma’s instincts are to throw herself into puddles and try to hurl her body into my bubble bath (yes, while I’m inside of it–it’s alarming to see a vivacious sixty-five pound creature running at you full tilt while you are naked in a confined body of water–trust me), my human instincts are telling me to cook something warm. Take a hunk of beef. Put it in a slow cooker. Take a nap. Watch a movie. Wear a chunky sweater. Meditate on the sound of the rain. Be cozy. Put on some jazz music. Pour yourself some tea. Did some bourbon slip itself into that cup of tea? Whoa. Sneaky. Continue reading
We are young. Lunchbox to lunchbox we stand. Sick of my sandwich with ham. Lunch is a battlefield. We are strong. This sad cup of soup just feels wrong. Been in my lunch-rut too long. Both of us knowing… Lunch is a battlefield.
So. That happened. Somewhere Pat Benatar is rolling her eyes. Either that, or she’s applauding my rendition of her song and thanking me for saying the words that she’s always wanted to say. “You know, Gina… it’s easy to write a song about love, but no one tackles the hard hitting emotional issue that is LUNCH. Thank you.” These are the words I imagine Pat saying to me. She’s rolling her eyes, isn’t she? Yeah. Probably that. Continue reading