I know that the holidays are in full effect, and that I should probably be posting how to make sugar cookies shaped like reindeer, covered in candy canes and peppermint bark and dipped into eggnog. That would be festive. Also, gross. Note to self: don’t dip overly-candied cookies into eggnog. Or, do. I feel confused. Is there a Christmas professional around who can tell me if this is a good or a bad idea? Also, how many gingerbread cookies crumbled up into a bowl make a good breakfast cereal? I have a lot of questions. But, I digress. Treats. I’ll probably be shoving treats in your face soon, so not to worry. However, this is the kind of food I’ve been crushing on currently. Hard. Like, I’m a twelve year old girl in 1995, and this pan of roasted veggies is on the cover of Tiger Beat right next to JTT. Big-swoony-write its name on my binder kind of crushin’. Practice kissing on your hand before bed kind of crushin’. It’s serious. […]
Look-y here. I’ve managed to make you something that isn’t breakfast. I’ve apparently been on one serious breakfast-y kick. I’ve been turning out waffles, quiche, and smoothies galore. I point out the fact I’m bringing you something non-breakfast since I am pretty sure tomorrow (or at least soon) I am posting something breakfast-y. Sorry (not really).
So…yesterday got weird. Mostly because I’m me and can’t seem to stay off the internet no matter how terrifying it can be. I had a weird tingle in my leg, which I promptly Googled (bad move). Don’t do this, friends. Don’t Google every twinge or tingle or pain that happens in your body just because you can. I’ve been telling myself this for years, but I can’t seem to take my own advice. When you Google a symptom, no matter what your symptom is, it usually leads to “OMG, I AM DYING!!!” Since I was experiencing a weird leg tingle, the sage and soothing advice of the interweb made me believe that I was probably, most likely, right in the middle of a stroke. Things got dramatic. I started pacing back and forth, thinking “OMG. I am having a stroke. This is not good. This is extremely bad.” The dog looked at me suspiciously and without major concern. Aren’t dogs supposed to be sympathetic? Geez. […]