A sharp connection, a stylus in a groove
Rhythm and words quite familiar A melodic explanation of a mood Track 8 presumes her a filler Then an anthem not for sharing Lyrics establish loyal pursuit One-and-only self-preparing Steel trust now accessible loot A flash of light with notification His active dating app chorus Revealing wilting patience B flat taunts: there was no "us" Flashbacks of a similar cadence Side two seals it with kiss Force his memory into just a dance Unfinished record, inevitable dis Sure showed the record player Leveling up the harp and heart string Casting her skies shades grayer Farewell to another shoal fling
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Anyone that has underestimated Steph or DatesandCakes is gravely mistaken-- including Steph herself. This girl is gonna have the force, even though I had NO clue "gravely mistaken" was a phrase from Star Wars.... I was really just emphasizing to any of my past flings or anyone else that seems to have their opinion of me in a bunch, that I'm worthy of the love I seek. That message is to me too <3 I've been back and forth with blogging and vlogging due to insecurities rooted in other's words but perpetuated by my own weakness. Well, thanks to my new blog friend, I'm taking a stand and publishing it! This datesandcakes recipe is for me! GASP I didn’t think you are sleeping w all these guys. Don’t worry about what others think, it is none of their business, and everyone has their own lenses for the world. You are making the best decisions for you and your life. I wonder what dessert that would be, one for you, a big heart for loving yourself so well and not settling out of fear, boredom, or hormones! I've been running this race of life in a unique pair of shoes that have more than "soul." I've prided myself on not checking (or climbing inside) the boxes society has built: |
Who the hell did I think I was? I know there's a movement right now about girls being able to play the field and take their emotions out of physical interactions, but I need to face the bass-buzzing, window-down-blaring music that I'm different. My emotional capacity is not that of your average bear. Oh, did I forgot to give you the earth-shattering conclusion of this crush? GHOSTED. |
This is how the world works: you gotta leave before you get left." - T Swizzle
So, something finally has to give.... "I'm sorry [enter names here], I'm cleaning out my closet." Call it spring cleaning for my soul!
Doesn't automatically render a space
In your jumbled head of drafted plans
Shading the night to grays and tans
He brushed your curl aside as if it were practice
Outlined your firm expression that of an actress
Breathing close in a rhythm to hypnotize
Temporary this moment, yet to realize
Just because the scene has set doesn't mean he is
On the syllables of your name or how it sounds with his
So don't mistake a mere glint for an enlightening
You'll meet a thunder, fit to be his lightening
Those that are supposed to offer unconditional concern often shoot betrayal from their fingertips as snares dangle from their earlobes. Such medieval imagery leaves little hope for complete strangers. How could a new face and new name combat such an evil expectation? It only takes one time to touch a hot element before thinking twice, given another chance.
But where does this leave you? Feeling with fear first, and then tiptoeing around life with the leftover emotions? What about feeling sand between your toes, hearing a baby's giggle, or seeing a puppy smile? You have to leave the tiptoeing for ballet and prance into opportunities outside of the studio.
It took me until I crossed Atlantic on Christmas Eve night to unfriend a combination of friends, acquaintances, and scrub-a-dubdubs that deemed less than worthy of my effort. Cleaning house is more than just a literal expression for the spring time. I unfriended 10 people and quite frankly, wish I would have done so sooner. A day will always consist of 24 hours (unless you're changing time zones of course, which in my Euro Trip #2, I did so 4 times). Don't. Waste. A. Minute.
I won't bore you with all ten, but here is one that we were quite friendly and it looked quite promising for us to go out, but then he stood me up. GHOST the night we were supposed to go out in downtown Dallas. It was already going to be an hour drive, but I felt he was worth that.... he obviously did not feel the same.
Although most girls (or guys in this situation) would have removed this person from their phone and their hope chest, I for some reason unbeknownst to me, did not. I must admit, I got a little snappy, but.... one couldn't argue I didn't fight fear to confront the inconsiderate slime.
And his words are ammunition
His pressure strikes my chords
like a trained musician
He afflicts more than pain
yet holds expectation
Of mercy-dipped compassion
--free of allegation
A mirage of infinity
miles in the distance
My true heartbreak harbors
in my stream of least resistance
Phone lines and e-mails topped with a laugh
The unlikely contender, but holding your own
Comfortable coops are meant to be flown from
Unsure whom holds greater insecurities
From sweet somethings to screams
Reflexes hyper-aware, you turn recluse
As not to suspect manipulation you'll use
The most beautiful thing you've ever seen
Spawns pure evil with thorns in between
Sharp seclusion pins feathers with wire
Inhale my smoke, because this girl is on fire
I was astounded that you would spend your literary gift on me. I'd be lying if I said I thought you would spend romanticism, letters, and songs on me. Let's pretend I wasn't impressed by your willingness to venture to a new place for first date. Let's pretend we didn't have our own version of "You've Got Mail," but possibly better. And let's pretend I don't still have those emails, more than a year later.
Let's pretend you didn't think you'd be the envy of all my friends with the weekly flowers. Let's pretend I wasn't as disappointed the hurricane spoiled our plans for our weekend getaway in Maine, complete with arrangements for my best friend to tag along.
Let's pretend I didn't get giddy like a schoolgirl when family followed my advice to call the missed reservation office to get a partial refund, but you called me "your girlfriend" in your explanation to the customer service person. I wish I could pretend we actually went on that trip that I thought was bound to be one of the cutest first dates.
Let's pretend your liquored words didn't chip away at your established chivalry and that you didn't try to pin alcoholism on me in the end. Let's pretend you didn't practically blacklist me from your publications, which you swore you'd never do "regardless of how it ends."
Let's pretend you would have actually given me the space I asked for. My, things could have ended without spats via email, painful poetry, immaturity at its finest, and blame for why good guys are extinct.
Let's pretend I wasn't invested in an artist I never met that painted me in lights I seldom allowed; that's why when your light turned to shadows of villains, I closed the book on my passion because you were my muse for months. Let's pretend it didn't revive demons most people couldn't imagine fighting; thanks for that. Let's pretend your increase in followers and pity didn't add to the list of "self-proclaimed victim's" in my life. Let's pretend I'm the loose, heart-breaking, materialist, alcoholic narcissist you swindled your fans into believing. Oh.... guess according to you, it's not pretend.
Let's pretend the sting of your backlash didn't tarnish the honey of your courting; the poems, the songs, the serenades, and even your published works-- spoiled.
Like your story, these contents are robust and complex. To get to the sweet stuff, the steps are intricate and requires precision.
Beesting Cake
- 2 cups whole milk
- 2 large eggs
- 2 large egg yolks
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 2/3 cup granulated sugar
- 4 teaspoons vanilla extract
- 1/4 cup cornstarch
- 3 tablespoons cold unsalted butter cubed
Dough:
- 1 cup + 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter at room temperature
- 1 tablespoon granulated sugar
- 1 teaspoon instant yeast
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1 large egg
- 2 tablespoons tepid water
Topping:
- 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 2 tablespoons honey
- 1 tablespoon heavy cream
- 3/4 cup sliced almonds
Instructions
Filling:
- Place the milk in a medium-sized heavy saucepan and set pan over medium heat. Warm milk until very hot, but not boiling.
- While milk is heating, combine the eggs, egg yoks, and salt in a medium mixing bowl. Beat with an electric mixer set to medium speed until thickened, 3 to 4 minutes. With mixer on medium-high, gradually add the sugar (2 to 3 tablespoons at a time), beating 30 seconds after each addition. Continue beating until the mixture is very thick and pale, about 3 minutes more.
- Turn mixer to low and beat in the vanilla and cornstarch, mixing until very smooth. With mixer still on low, gradually add the hot milk—beat in about 1 teaspoon at a time at first, then slowly begin adding more, beating well after each addition.
- Once all the milk has been added, pour the mixture back into the saucepan you used for the milk. Add the cold butter, then set the pan over medium heat. Heat the mixture, stirring constantly with a rubber spatula. When mixture begins to thicken (it will look lumpy), decrease the heat and switch to stirring with a whisk. Continue stirring the mixture gently for another 7 or 8 minutes, until very thick. At this point, reduce heat to very low and cook 1 minute more, stirring with your spatula again.
- Remove from the heat and scrape mixture into a medium mixing bowl. Cover with plastic wrap, pressing the wrap onto the surface of the pastry cream. Cool to room temperature, then refrigerate overnight.
Dough:
- Combine all ingredients in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook and mix on low speed until ingredients are combined. Turn mixer to medium and mix until the dough becomes smooth and supple, about 5 to 10 minutes. (You do this by hand if your mixer is too large to knead the dough effectively.)
- Lightly spray a large mixing bowl with cooking spray. Transfer dough to the prepared bowl and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Let rise for 1 hour, until puffy.
- Generously spray an 8-inch round cake pan with cooking spray and set aside.
- Transfer the dough to a lightly greased work surface and deflate gently. Pat into an 8-inch circle. Place dough circle in the prepared pan.
- Cover pan loosely with plastic wrap and allow to rise for 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, gently stretch the dough so it reaches the edge of the pan.
- Ten minutes before the dough finishes rising, make the topping and preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Topping:
- Melt the butter in a small saucepan set over medium heat. Stir in the sugar, honey, and heavy cream. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring occasionally, and boil for 2 to 3 minutes, until lightly golden. Remove from the heat and stir in the almonds.
- Spread the topping into an even layer on top of the dough. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the top is golden. Cool in the pan on a wire rack for 30 minutes, then run a knife around the edge of the pan to loosen the cake. Gently remove cake from the pan, then cool completely on a wire rack almond-side up.
- Once cake is cool, use a large serrated knife to split it in half horizontally. Top the bottom layer with the chilled pastry cream. Slice the top layer into 8 wedges, then place on top of the pastry cream. (Slicing the top first prevents the filling from oozing out when you slice the cake.) Serve and enjoy.
This post could be robust with gratitude for the blessings I've encountered, but you've heard the lists and I'm sure have drafted one of your own. This is supposed to be a dating blog stuffed with humor and adventure, complimented by jaw-gaping reactions. So, for once, I'll give the people what they want.
My reality OVER My expectations
- We're all a little shallow
- I can't remember the last time I drooled over a guy
- Einstein once told me (fine, I read it on an encouragement blog) that "insanity is the doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."
Well... can't quit cold turkey, but hopefully I won't have another Mr. South D. This guy seemed sweet, with a sprinkle of selfishness. We had a notorious Snapchat streak of pictures back and forth with silly pics for at least 40 consecutive days. Nothing sexual, nothing too boring-- just two flirty singles living day to day as 8 second pen-pals with 18 character messages. So, it was no stirring love story but, I didn't think it would end in an unsolicited dick video. Live and in action and something I thought this "sweet guy" wouldn't have just sprung on me OUT OF NO WHERE.
My favorite part is that when I gave it to him (don't get excited, I mean screamed via text about what warranted that and how other recipients may have liked it, but I felt it was disrespectful) and he never denied sending it to other girls. THEN, to add to it, he BLOCKED ME.
So, to exemplify my surprise, here's your surprise pie
- 1 pie crust from a pack of two or homemade
- 1 cup brown sugar
- 1/4 cup unsalted butter softened
- 1 egg
- 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- 1 cup flour
- 1 cup candy bars I used 8 miniature Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, about 15 mini Rolos, and a handful of M&Ms to make 1 cup
- Extra candy for the top of the pie
INSTRUCTIONS
- Preheat oven to 350°F.
- Place pie crust in a 9” pie plate, crimping as desired. Press the sides of the crust so they are firmly attached to the edges of the pie plate.
- Cream brown sugar and butter in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment (or you can use a hand mixer). Add eggs and vanilla and beat until combined. Add baking powder, salt, and flour and mix.
- If you are using a stand mixer, add your candy bars to the bowl and mix on medium-high to chop of the candy. (The strength of the mixer is enough to break up soft pieces of candy, like Reese’s or Rolos.) If you’re using a hand mixer, coarsely chop the candy, the mix it into the dough.
- Press into prepared pan (dough is sticky, spray your hands with cooking spray to avoid it sticking to your hands). Press some remaining candy on the top for decoration. Press the sides of the crust that are showing with the tines of a fork a few times.
- Bake for about 24-30 minutes, until the crust is browned and the top of the pie is golden. It may still be a little jiggly in the center. Cool completely before cutting. Serve by itself or with whipped cream or ice cream.
Let's Pretend:
I've had as much fun sneaking around in any setting than that dorm with you.
Our first kiss didn't shock me to my core. Electrifying. Grr-grrr-grrrease lightening
Our last kiss was something I thought would happen-- like we would die holding hands like in The Notebook.
The end was only rocking-chair-rocky and that I was fair to you.
I didn't keep your letters; every last one.
I didn't hide the 3 scrapbooks full of memories from myself.
I don't feel a sharp pain deep in my abdomen when I see your name pop-up on my best friend's phone.
I've forgotten: the passion, the tears, the ambition, the phone calls, the encouragement to pursue our dreams, the endless laughter, the insiders, the adventures, the parents (all 3 of them~not including mine), the differences, the concerts, the chocolate, the plans... and how God had a different one in mind.
The "me" we allowed each other to be were beautiful. I don't think I'll ever see that girl again and I can't pretend that's not a loss. A burial of the most powerful force I've encountered yet, and the dirt is still under my painted nails.. Sometimes, I acknowledge that's all I have left.
I heard this song today and couldn't help but interpret it as his final thoughts. Maybe I'm no Selena, but boy did these raw words circle her in red. For awhile now, I've been trying to resist from checking on you. I know you're thriving and, I guess I'll have to leave it at that.
Heat is out in the oven tonight, so no chance at 350.
Let's pretend I wasn't the first girl to tell you no, and that's why you sprung for date #2. Let's pretend you weren't impressed with my internal music encyclopedia. Let's pretend I didn't catch on to your inconsistency in stories, priorities, and ex-fiance. Let's disregard your failure to mention you lived in another state.
Let's pretend we never went to the beach that Sunday morning after coffee. Let's pretend I didn't notice where your eyes settled when you saw me in a swimsuit. Let's not revisit the shame your reaction had on my self image, self esteem, and well.... my...self. Let's not highlight the disgust you exhibited and how you refused to touch me. Let's pretend that although I had built up confidence in my internal attributes and sunshine smile, it wasn't built to weather this kind of disapproval.
Let's pretend I wasn't raised on measuring up (or the lack their of). Let's pretend that I, like most the girls I know, didn't battle body dismorphia. Let's pretend I didn't watch the woman I idolized shrivel to bones and thin skin because of exterior circumstances spurred by internal ones. Let's pretend you were concerned with anything other than bringing me back home like a troubled youth you were stuck with for community service.
Let's pretend I've thought of you TWICE since that Sunday.... oh, because I haven't. Whether you wanna splurge on a dessert without as many calories or you just happen to have the ingredients on hand, here is a "Skinny" Chocolate Chip Cheesecake Bar Recipe.
- 5 sheets low fat Graham crackers = 350
- 2 Tbsp butter = 200
- 8 ounces light cream cheese = 560
- 3/4 cup nonfat plain Greek yogurt = 105
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar = 194
- 2 Tbsp flour = 56
- 2 egg whites = 34
- 1 Tbsp lemon juice = 0
- 2 tsp vanilla extract = o
- 1/2 cup mini chocolate chips = 560
- Preheat oven to 350°F
- Not the crusty crab: Crush (like he crushed your esteem) the graham crackers into a f-i-n-e crumb. Mix with melted butter and press (like he pressed his lips on yours) into a lined 8X8 pan.
- Bake for 8 minutes and multitask like homeboy practically living a double life does with ease.
- He didn't even "fill" me up: Beat the softened cream cheese for 1 minute using a hand or stand mixer. Beat it, like he did. By "it" I mean: yogurt, sugar, egg whites, and flour until smooth.
- Add lemon juice and vanilla, and again, beat it, MJ. Fold in the chips.
- Spread filling on top of baked crust.
- Return to the sun or.... oven for 20 minutes.
- Then, when you think everything is going well, remove the pan and covering it with foil, preventing burning desire. Return to oven for 5 minutes.
- Allow to cool off from the rejection and chill because you're beautiful, regardless if you're "skinny enough."
When the door AND windows seem closed.....
I've never seen the word as negative, but almost as alluring. As a child, I earned the reputation of a leader and if no one followed, I slowed my momentum only slightly. I've never followed high fashion or most mainstream music. My own father called my strange this week since I can fit (strategically) everything I own into my silver Honda Civic. Strange is familiar and maybe, just maybe that's the reason I feel so comfortable in cities that have never heard my steps.
This desperation for new environments, cultures, and entrees drove me to apply to 9 airlines to become a flight attendant. What better way to meet as many diverse people and see as many cities on someone else's dime than to be the eye in the sky!? Well, after I never heard from 6 of them, I waited eagerly for Delta, since I've passed 3 phases since August. Today, that journey ended for this application. Sure, I can try again next season...
Now that we've had a good laugh and a bittersweet memory jogger (doesn't possess the endurance to be a runner), I smile from the encouraging texts from friends and sigh. Sigh and smile.
To cheer myself up (after a prosecco of sulking), I scrolled through my travel photos and stumbled upon inspiration I found in the lobby of the Vatican. May have been the book store? I don't know how to say either in Italian; MAMA MIA.
Like a Cars' song, this was "just what I needed." <3
Not feeling a dessert today.... but I know life is still sweet
Hollows out human of pain never anticipated
Bellowing in barefoot basement decisions
Outlining bones of dark premonition
Stale salute from windowless walls
Infinity in shambles, conclusion calls
Curtain closes lungs-- short of suffocation
Black lace to hang for smug celebration
Wings as the carpet and candles with no wicks
Remains swept away in hollowed red bricks
The crow gave up cawing as dusk won the fight
Embedded in another extinguishes light
Author
Chef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart...
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