Although my favorite Disney princess has always been a 3-way tie between Pochahontas, Mulan, and Belle, I have always wanted to be referred to as "Belle with her nose in a book." Even if someone somewhere just said it once.I used to spend hours in the Mount Pleasant library, 4 minutes from my house, collecting travel books, cookbooks, and devotionals for rent. There was one time when I even felt the eyes from the security guard on me; not because he thought I slipped a book in my bag without checking it out, but with interest of some sort. Then again, it could have very well been in my head. ;)Fast Forward to my library adventures in Texas post-heart expenditure: November 2020.Heart Expenditure (noun): The state in which one's heart has let too many "potentials" in, only to be underwhelmed. In this datesandcakes definition specifically, it was allowing 4 guys into my heart space in the span of 7 months. If you're thinking the math doesn't add up, you'll be happy to learn that insecurity was my common denominator. All of them retreated and I was left with the wreckage of myself and my own undoing in November 2020. Instead of living out the definition of insanity, I tried a new hobby to distract me from dating and breaking down. If you've ever sat in a room with me, you'd know within seconds that I do not. sit. still. So, reading novels has always been a struggle, even in school with AP classes that required summer reading. But, here I was, looking, hoping for something new. I read the book to the left in four days and the book on the right in five. They were RIVETING. I felt alive and accomplished and was providing my own approval for a change. One common theme (besides murder muhahah! What can I say? I always loved Nancy Drew even though it took me weeks to finish one because of all my "distractions") quickly surfaced that men should not be trusted. I'm sure you're thinking, how convenient that datesandcakes reads books to support her serial dating trend and is, like most women, an innocent bystander.
These books actually helped me realize how many of the guys I've dated are and will always be, strangers. I knew more about these characters and how they face fear, mortality, morals, integrity, and greed than the four from the pandemic. For cereal, if I do ever write a book or series of books, one of them HAS to be "The Four From the Pandemic: How to Date During a Pandemic and Insure You Leave Pieces Behind." But being totally shallow here (because deep down, we all have been at one time or another), these two titles scream some of my insecurities that lead me to date these guys that were not fit for me. AT ALL. I wanted to be a pretty thing on his arm and gosh, did I want to be seen. But the more carona cases reported, with maps stretched as far as the screen can capture, the more people I realize are out there that could be that match. Maybe my pretty thing is in Morocco and I've been too distracted with the wrong corners of the compass. I'm alone and could not be happier. .... I don't know if that's gasp worthy or cliche but.... today, at this moment while clacking this blog out, pressed against a heating pad when I should very well be asleep, I'm at peace with saying that. :)) The cakes will still be baked, the vlogs will still be recorded, and God knows the attention will still be yearned for, but I'm hopefully going to approach it better. Here's for hoping and for new hobbies! Single Ole Bird Left With PiecesPersonally, Reese's pieces are my least favorite of the Reese's family (the candy-coated sheep if you will). They have no chocolate, which seems like an impostor thing to do and m'nms are better so.... that's how the candy crumbles! BUT, with this post, and the introduction of my coined "heart expenditure," I found this candy suiting and this recipe humorous. Y'all know I enjoy a good joke and I often "roast" myself so.... Ingredients
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You're a fighter You're a lighter To get you more than higher. You're among dragonflies Definite rise Limit of skies Gold beyond what it buys. Intricate desire The lick of fire Altitude to aspire Secretly, self-admire. You're solid as a rock Onto the next block Spirit soon to flock You've got survival on lock. Do NOT mistake this for the 80's Rom-Com, "Pretty in the Pink." The protagonist does NOT get the guy, have a theme song, or have any recollection of wearing or packing the color pink on this 3 day trip to Prague. In Prague, I found myself in a love parallelogram, if you will. A triangle just doesn't seem to be the shape to most accurately represent what was that day after Christmas night in clubs across Prague. At the meeting spot for the pub crawl at 8 sharp, I saw a tall blonde with a sweater, or "jumper" as they call it, and skinny jeans similar to mine. I sparked up conversation instantly and her accent was quite a surprise. Australian, hands down. Stereotypical of an American, a vast number of us are infatuated with Australian and English accents. I know that's a stereotype... But are you really going to argue with me? You don't enjoy a good "mate" or "bloody hell?" Yeah that's what I thought... Anyway, after befriending The Awesome Aussie, we began to take shots that were compliments of the crawl for the first hour. Completely unlimited. She claimed she needed to pace herself, but I had experience with my blonde best friend back home on how-to entice others to take shots. There were three Brazilian girls standing, smiling, and sipping a beer. Why are you sipping during the only hour of free drinks, I thought. Beginners. The Aussie must have had a similar thought because she prompted me, "let's go talk to them! They need to live and it up!" Before you knew it, we had formed forces. Three beautiful Brazilians, The Awesome Aussie who was also beautiful, and me and my American Travel buddy (whom I guess to someone is beautiful ;) Since my travel buddy is a dude, I guess he's not included in our group that became known in the crawl as "The Baddest." That's not me saying that... That turned out to be the name that was coined at the second or third bar from some of the other guys that approached my guy friend. He said, "man you are so freaking lucky! Those girls are the baddest in here. And you are talking to like all of them?!" Another one, an American... Of course! If you've listened to any of my other European Bar Crawl stories... I always end up getting tangled up with an American. How basic of me LOL This particular one was a tall glass of water that also approached my travel buddy and said, "Man, the girl in the dress..... great job landing her, because she can freaking dance!" Immediately, he corrected him and prompted him to approach me since I was single and could be bothered to mingle. Of course, he never did. Then what about the parallelogram? It's coming... I promise! As one of the Brazilians found another Brazilian and kind of coupled off with him for the rest of the night... The rest of us continued to dance, flirt, and soak up Prague, since none of us had ever been here before. After one conversation my travel buddy had with The Awesome Aussie, my travel buddy looked defeated. He approached me and said, "Well damn. At least she likes one of us." Confused with who he was referring to, I pressed further. "The awesome Aussie! She's not into me... But she likes you." "Oh yeah, she's awesome," I said innocently. He threw a teasing look at me and said, "Nah man, she dates girls too." I threw my head back cackling. And if you've ever had the privilege to see this in real life, it's quite the scene. Completely flattered, I took the compliment and continued with my drinks. Scanning the room, I found this beautiful blonde, tall glass of water that I'd noticed that the first club, but figured he was out of my league. This time, his blue eyes met mine. Damn it! Another blue-eyed beauty. He had an edgy kind of guy next to him who was also quite attractive, but didn't have my eye on that one. The Aussie walked right up to them. So feeling bold as well, I figured I'd join her. Flirting commenced and we ended up dancing around each other, but never necessarily together. Picture 4-year-olds playing soccer-- they get close, but usually never actually get the ball, they just hover. While the Aussie interacted with the one I found most beautiful (he hailed from Poland), I interacted with the attractive, but edgy Russian. The only thing I could have ever imagined as a personality trait in regards to a Russian is that they're kind of intense... This guy definitely fit that bill, or that "Todd"... Just kidding! I can't remember his name anyway. On the way to the bathroom, or "the lou" as she called it , her and I exchanged notes on which boy we were trying to pursue. She was into the Russian, I was into the Polish man, the Polish man seemed magnetically attracted to the Aussie and the Russian seem to gravitate to me, even after our conversation ended and I trailed off both literally and mentally. Then, keep in mind the Aussie has also had a girlfriend... So the possibilities here for what everyone was wanting seems endless. See what I'm saying? A triangle would just not suffice....Advancing to the last club, I could see that the Russian began "feeling me." Not literally.... yet.... Making his way over to the bar, he whipped his head back at me saying, "You want something? What are you drinking?" Regardless of the country, I seldom pass up a drink offered from a cute boy as long as I can see it being made. I matched his vodka Sprite with "an abundance of limes." That's a quote. Usually I go for soda water, but the cute little bottles were something I couldn't resist. European bars seldom have carbonated soda stations or soda guns like our land-of-the-free bars. They also charge for water, since it too is bottled. Affordable? It's almost always more than an alcoholic drink. #hellohangover After three of those lemon and lime sugared puppies (not ruff in the slightest), we made our way to the dance floor and he tried to keep rhythm. I would like to "Blame It On the Alcohol," but I'm pretty sure this boy just had no rhythm. Cute though, we danced as I glanced over at the other pair, The Awesome Aussie and my fleeting Crush, the Polish dude. Once Queen came on, it was a wrap. The Aussie and I screamed at the top of our lungs and jammed (no peanut butter in this country, unfortunately) together and the two boys found their way into other girls' arms. Fine by us, we thought. But like my blonde best friend in the states and I discovered time and time again, they usually come back. So acting as if nothing happened, they were turn to us probably 5 songs or 10 songs later. That was the best measure of time I had since I don't sport a watch and my phone was rapidly dying. At this point, we had forgotten about our Brazilian girls until we ran into one of them (not literally, I only run to buffet lines and from commitment). Apparently, this club was the the setting for a shitshow for everyone involved.
It was around 5 a.m. when the club closed, and the parallelogram of unrequited lust, made its way toward Old Prague, across one of the famous bridges. My hostel, mind you was in a completely different direction. Since I had no data or internet connection, I couldn't order an Uber, I couldn't get on maps to see how to get back, and oh yeah, I couldn't remember the name of our hostel. Do you know any hostels there are in downtown Prague? Probably equivalent to hotels in downtown Dallas. FML why don't I eat more blueberries? I tried to take notes from the Aussie's Google Maps to a hostel that sounded like mine, but I had no pen and no paper. So where else can I put the notes? In my dying phone. Awesome. Now we know the Polish dude was never interested, but do you think the Russian even offered a "that sucks" or "good luck?" No. Totally disregarded, I made my way into the foreign city alone. Along the way of my makeshift MapQuest directions, I miraculously found an open wi-fi connection that I could connect to. I'm not exaggerating here. It really truly was a miracle to find a place with free Wi-Fi. During our 6 hours of daylight earlier that very day sightseeing, I could not find even one place that had open wi-fi. Not cafes, shops, tourist spots, and internet cafes were extinct in this city. Thanking God I found this open Wi-Fi connection, I turned to Google for help. I sent a message to my travel buddy to keep an eye out for me and to tell me the code to get into the hostel. Isn't it fun, how some guys seem to be around till you need them? After feeling like I got my bearings, I ventured out again with now 1% on my phone battery. Just as it was dying, I came across a taxi man helping a couple and their luggage into his car. In all my experience in Prague, you know the whole three days of it, I found a blatant disregard for humans that we're not "in Czech" with their culture. Maybe just humans in general. So, I was a bit timid to ask the driver for help since I've been shut down several times just when ordering coffee, getting dinner, and sipping air through my freckled nose. It's not like I wasn't paying... well, aside from the air. Well, thankfully, this guy only rolled his eyes once and told me which direction to go. I totally guessed it was "the Central hostel" and he helped me head in the right direction. After passing shady figures in the street with determination and adrenaline pumping through me, I made it to my hostel and in through the front door; I practically carved the code with my nail into my skin. Yes, my memory really is that bad. I climbed the flight of stairs, and knocked on our hostel door. I remembered what door was ours by the chipped paint close to the keyhole. Visually, I'm okay... Numbers and address wise? I'm screwed.
As my travel buddy answered the door, I began gushing about my night and inquiring of his. I found a different air in the room and I couldn't quite put my finger on it until it struck me that we may not be alone. I prosed the famous question... "Is someone here?" "Sorry," I heard as covers pushed up and out, revealing a small face framed with brown wavy hair. Wow, I thought to myself, but tried hard to maintain a poker face. I know we share the same name, but I am no Lady Gaga. The stranger began laughing, unveiling her as American. The kind of "Minnesota-nice ....dontcha know." Somehow, the conversation turned to Celine Dion. The other American was so young that she was unfamiliar with the artist! Laughing hysterically, I belted into a famous Celine Dion song. My Travel buddy joined me and cued the backup music on his iPhone. After my performance, I told him to not even think about waking me in the morning, since it had been such an eventful night. Wouldn't you know that my happy little ass woke up at 3 p.m. the next day. Hungover, but happy. Although it wasn't my favorite city because of the rude people, I do believe you should give this place a Nike Czech and "just do it" ;) The Nola Series Continues.....So, while living in Pensacola, the city I've hated living 2nd to Greenville, North Carolina, I met a New Orleans native that I dated for half the time I lived there. Gosh, he was the sweetest, so naturally, I had to give him a ring when we went to our home! He was able to finagle things with his job and Florida life and drove the 3 hours down highway 10 to party it up on Frenchman Street! (THE place to drink and hear any genre of music imaginable) Here's the 4-1-1 on the back story of how Mr. Ringo came to be.... and a semi-funny meme, since I couldn't find a Parent Trap meme with Merideth Blake saying, "Here's the 4-1-1." Well, this sweet Mr. Ringo strolled The Marigny with a hobbling girl that moved away. We were in our element! He showed me all his spots when he lived there 2 years prior and found me a club with ratchet hip hop, per request. I got so down to the music that a guy pulled out his phone (in the most discrete manner, flash blinding) and videoed the stanky leg with two broken toes. DON'T STOP ME NOW. I'M HAVING SUCH A GOOD TIME. I'M HAVING A BALL. There was this blonde dude-bro that was at least 4 years younger than me watching intently. He looked like a school-yard boy waiting to jump into double dutch. He made his move before Christmas and I was elated while grinding to Ludacris. While feeling the emotions, among other things, I felt eyes on me when Mr. Ringo walked back up. Guilt swept over me. Even though nothing was stated about rekindling anything, he was a complete and utter gentleman and I still felt guilty. I don't know if the guilt would have subsided if a girl would have danced with him (even though he "doesn't dance"). The words of another guy before him rang in my ears while putting my weight on the foot in a right Van shoe. Mr. Publisher wrote words that I didn't believe when he bitterly spat them via internet forum but they rose to the top of my liquored mind (in which he bought some of the drinks...yes, I'm the worst BUT, he was staying with me BUT he came to SEE ME). I lose. So, in this moment in my favorite American city, I believed the words that publisher wrote about me... something to the affect of: she's the reason there's not any good guys left. Now, I do not take responsibility for ALL the good guys converting to scum-between-my-toes but, I do feel for the good guys that I.... well are no longer taken with. I don't do it on purpose... just as I assume guys that were never intrigued long enough with me didn't fall off to spite me. Well, this Mr. Ringo is a gentleman, loving father, and generous person with a colossal heart. It meant more to me than I let on that he came to visit me... I have family that wouldn't spend time with me and I WAS IN THEIR ZIPCODE. I made breakfast and we had some of the most comfortable conversation of my life and then, like a pound of maple bacon, he was gone. I tried to see if we could meet up for Mardi Gras but, to no avail. I truly wish him the best and hope to still frolic our city together. Then again, I also understand if he chooses not too; I've been on that side of the equation as well. Ah, the legendary Rock N Bowl. My mother and her brothers (uncles, obviously... thank you "Genealogy for Dummies") went to "gramma school" with the owner. This actually came in handy when they were cash ONLY for Zydeco night and I was $3 short. I named dropped like a recent grad at an interview and was excused the remaining total. I hobbled my way into the bowling alley across an open space of hardwood floors where Cajuns where jigging in every which direction. The music even smelled of this great city. I am not really sure what that means but gosh, it was a lively scene. Unlike any other dance hall I'd been to.... and I've been to Billy Bob's and Florabama more times than I can count. After securing a cold Budlight in my hand #ballingonabudget, I watched the feet of the colorful enthusiasts spinning and bouncing with jubilee. The washboard was almost hypnotizing. Gosh, that sounds like a Tide commercial. X) A vibrant hippie was stepping to Zydeco alone so I joined her. "Hey! Can you teach me?" "Honey, we can learn together!" After giving it a go with a clomp clomp clomp (still in the boot), a studious, yet big-headed bald guy flashed me a smile and asked me dance. Rolling my eyes inside, I was in no position to turn him down; my desire to learn exceeded my distaste for cocky males. After cheap conversation and obvious judgement of my dancing, the second song ended and he made his way to a thin blonde with evident Zydeco experience. After returning to my new hippie friend, we danced the night away with no remorse for butchering the dance of this great city. There wasn't a day that didn't pass during my dog-sitting days that I didn't find some vibrant thing to do. Since I've bled black and gold since birth, I figured why not try my hand at a saints game. The dome really is home. <3I saw the man of my dreams on the field.... Mr. Reggie Bush, accepting an award... he's a winner but, he's a real player ;)
If you can believe it... I've got one more NOLA post in me. A map contains infinite road ways to my heart; mine presently has 9 countries and counting.My road of singleness is a blessing. Being the sole navigator to my next destination is liberating.How else would I be able to:
Living abroad taught me that I can adapt to almost anything. I'm kind of a bad ass bitch (no DNA test needed) and a force to be reckoned with because I survived the alleged sex trafficking and terrorism in Europe. I actually enjoy spending time with myself, which is contrary to how I felt before this trip. I learned I don't want to tolerate life, but enjoy it. My initiative on this trip proves that I have the power to change anything that makes me unhappy my life, within reason of course. I also learned, not in a feminist way, but empowering way that I don't need a man. Like fighting this societal trend of pressuring you to feel like you need someone else to be complete when you're rapidly approaching the age of 30. I didn't let myself down. And honestly, people thought I would be home sick and get sex trafficked or kidnapped or would have you and I had nothing but great stories to come back with and a certain fulfillment that I wasn't even looking for.... Like the dots on a map, the raspberries are just that; sweet upon meeting and tart upon departure. Cake:
Glaze & Decoration:
I've known New Orleans my whole life. My parents were born and raised and I spent every summer from birth through college. It's my favorite city on the planet even though I've been to easily 130 cities. Probably 70 of those were in Texas... No joke. Well I didn't usually play tourist when I was there because we were too busy doing family things: frequenting festivals, watching my mawmaw's concerts at the New Orleans Civic Orchestra, going to cabbageball games (in which my sister and I actually joined a league one summer), and throwing the best seafood boils you've ever had. Sidebar: cabbage ball is like softball but with a much bigger and softer ball. I'm sure you can guess from the name, it is the size of a Cabbage. So you really just need a bat and some friends to play- no glove required Needless to say, I didn't really focus on the party life in New Orleans. God knows it has quite the nightlife and live music anywhere in the city. My family is very unique and so I tend to not bring friends when I go in town because it's just too much of a hassle and other things I'd rather not get into. Everyone's got their family drama and trust me mine would probably be a soap opera with extra bubbles. Well, it's not every day one of your best friends turns 30..... we did the damn thing and hopped in the car for a quick 3 hour commute to celebrate in the real city that never sleeps. I never understood how New York earned that name when their bars close at 2. Isn't that an oxymoron? Having a closing time implies that your city sleeps. On our trip to New Orleans, just the first night, we didn't get into an Uber until 5. Yes, am. When it's your first trip to New Orleans, you have to knock Bourbon Street off your checklist. If not, it's like going to New York without hitting Time Square or riding on a subway. Are you really getting The Full Experience? I never said it was going to be a classy or sanitary experience, but an experience with a story. And that's exactly what you're about to get. Titties and beads were flying amok and inebriation was this year's hottest trend. Channing Tatum's bar caught our eye and we filed in. There was usual bar decor, like a stripper pole in the back room and felt on the walls and ceilings. I ordered ONE SHOT and was charged a tip without my consent. I’m actually a great tipper and would’ve tipped more than 18%, but not when you force it upon me. Disgruntled, I walked outside to take a picture of the receipt, another bouncer at Saints and Sinners bribed me with $20 to NOT write a review. The more and more places my best friend and I ventured into, the more the appeal for New Orleans left her. At the last bar we spent the mornings of the hour in, they were having karaoke on the main stage. While dancing to the poorly song Bruno Mars or Destiny's Child song, 3 Guys almost in rotation, approached my best friend to dance with her. Pray for Us.The first one, front straw, but no drinks and she blew his house down. The second one was made of sticks. Seemingly strong with his muscular build, his ego certainly got in the way. So she dusted him off as well. Third one of bricks was from Canada. Strong and persistence and eagerly desire to dance with the blond American. After a couple of songs, team entered to brunette best friend. In that instant, the man with sticks blurted, "how did he get to dance with both of them?" Smiling it off, the Canadian continued to dance with both girls. Is a clock stroke for, the blonde decided it was time to go and offered her social media address. Now, she said don't take it if you don't want it. Glancing at her eyes and then adverting them, he said, I appreciate your honesty. On that note he walked away. Well, I don't know about you, but I feel a signature drink is the only suitable dessert for this series of 3 little burbons... Although, me being green with envy about the 3 guys showing my bestie attention, would illustrate the melon liqour perfectly-- it just wasn't true. I was in my city, not showing my titty. Lol So instead of some powdered wonderland donut, I give you the hand granade!My nickname in this narrative is Miss Madrid since he called me out for changing my location on Facebook from Charleston to Madrid, even though I was only going to reside there for 3 months. Pshhh sir, that's living there, OKAY?!? We agreed to disagree. So, throughout our 8 day journey together, there were a series of questions we continued to get as Mr. Butterwall and Miss Madrid traveled from Spain to Hungary to Greece. Any guesses?
Both of us quickly dismissed the questions, reporting plainly: we are just friends. Or even travel buddies, but nothing more. Now I'm able to throw in my wing-woman story to further justify my claim. . . . . . . . . . When we checked into our hostile in Athens, we squeezed through the matchbox elevator and was hoisted to the sixth floor. Upon turning the handle to our room, we were disappointing to see one bed as our noses were assaulted with cigarette smoke. Immediately returning to the first floor, the receptionist raise his eyebrows when we demanded two separate beds. Also, his eyes shifted towards a no smoking sign hung by chicken wire on the pale yellow painted wall. He called the attractive manager over, he was able to meet a request. We we're LED outside of the hospital into a Alleyway Prime for muggings and urination, just in my shallow opinion, no locals confirmed this. Key granted us access into a glass door with a rusted handle. It was adjacent to an old abandoned shoe store with a little inventory still on the racks. Down a narrow hallway, that was dimly-lit oh, we found it under Matchbox elevator. We took it to the third floor and was pleased to find two separate beds. He of course took the larger one because quote-unquote I'm a big dude. Ladies first does not apply in Greece. After setting are things down, we made our way 2 a liquor store for vodka originally, but were intrigued buy a small bottle much cheaper then the imported vodka. It and 40%. This can't be wine we muttered. The shop owner came over and try to describe it. Google translate was no help. He grabbed one of the mini bottles of that product and twisted it open. Making eye contact with me, he put it in my hands. Oh my gosh thank you so much! He smirked and return to his register. Impressed, mr. Butter wall waited for my reaction before stealing a sip. Coconuts hell, we were impressed. It tasted like nothing I've ever tried before. He said it was something like absentee. I'm not even sure if I'm selling that right cuz I'm really not sure what he was referring to. We got a bottle and three bottles of fruit juice mix that upon exploring the label further, learned it was a Coca-Cola product. Made sense because that was tasty! The one I had was cherry banana, and his was pina colada. After purchasing the products, the clerk smiled warmly when I proclaimed more gratitude. We returned to our room to fix our drinks. The fancy Barista stylings included a few swigs from each juice bottle and filling the rest with our new Greek liquor. Since there was only a little liquor bottle, we each took a shot and made her way to a couple bars and then dinner. Don't let the signage and walls of liquor mislead you into thinking it is a Greek TGIF Friday's. The menu was filled with things I couldn't pronounce, ranging from squid to lamb. As the night went on, since we couldn't find a bar crawl on a Tuesday night, we created our own with our BYOB style. After dinner, and my Gelato dessert, I had to, we stumbled into another liquor store. We pursuit of the same Greek liqueur. Having trouble finding the same label, he picked up on our befuddled looks. Directing to the right bottle, we bought a bottle in milliliters or however they measured over there. It's not kilograms LOL As he was ringing us up, the clerk inquired where we were going next on our travels. He pegged us As Americans when we walked in the store. When butter wall revealed Santorini, the clerk commended us on selecting such a romantic place. Immediately, I corrected him by stating we were just friends. He said, you'll see when the sun sets on the beautiful Island. We smiled politely but dismissed him. By this time, we started to feel the Greek liquor. We return to the found the juice the first time, for me to bat my eyes at the clerk. I don't think he remembered me. Brushing off my failed attempt at tipsily flirting, the attractive manager of the hostel was outside the shady glass door. Instantly, he engaged Mr. Butterwall in conversation and I piped in as necessary. Then, I noticed the questions were directed at buttterwall. These weren't "where have you been" and "how are you liking Athens" kind of questions. He asked, without blinking, "So, is there anyone back home waiting for you?" Actual footage of the hotel manager waiting for Butterball to rise to his man-loving occasion.I had to advert my eyes and hold my breath to keep from bursting into my cackle-induced laughter. I wish I could recall his response! All I remember is that conversation ended quickly as we returned to the room. "Baha! I bet he did that cause he knew we weren't sleeping together since he had to change the room to two beds." "Stephanie, I don't wanna--" He burst into laughter too. "I was DYING! Do you get hit on by dudes in the states?" "Never! This is the first-- well, actually in Budapest, after that American and I left the room, the next bar we went to had a bartender that bought my drinks but not her's." "This is great!" I cackled. "Shut up," he playfully shoved my shoulder. We continued to down the liquor that was quite Greek to us, then headed to another rooftop bar. It was evident, Mr. Butterwall's liquor was hitting him faster than mine. I guess girls are the only one 2 blurb things when they're drunk. "Steph, you know what I tell people when they ask why we'er not together?" Caught a little off guard, I responded to Butterwall in the most sensible way, "Na-ah. What?" "That I wouldn't want to risk what we have. At the end of the day, it's just a warm, wet hole and is our traveling worth ruining that?" First of all, eww. Who says it like that!? Secondly, who knew this kid even considered stuff like that. I truly believed we were just friends. He took a chick home and spoke of women... well, like a guy. 'that ass, I'd break her, efff glasses are so hott' ...that kind of stuff. Sure, there were a couple times he'd compliment me but, with operators like him, you can't take any of them to heart. While mulling this all over, he continued to speak. "If I do get a girlfriend, she needs to be so incredible that it's worth giving this up to travel the world with you." "And if you get a boyfriend, because you finally accepted that you're beautiful-- I still can't understand how you don't...." His eyes searched for mine as mine did a quick roll, while my lips pursed. "Then I hope he's worth giving up spontaneous travel with me. This has worked out so well. We've had no fights or disagreements; I'm impressed with how smooth it was and am laughing more than I even thought I would." Smiling, I sneered, "pshh, you forgot how funny I was?" "I mean, Steph, we met once before this. Twice if you count the first drunken encounter," He sneered back. Shoving my shoulder, I laughed. We left the rooftop bar and made it to our hostel with Mr. Butterball's male suitor nowhere in sight. This post's sweet treat is Santorini tomorrow! ;) Sleep tight.I know that a gyms' financial stability is contingent on broken New Year's resolutions, but I feel like they're too much of a letdown. It reminds me of the idea of Valentine's Day. You should show people you love gestures and affirmations of your for love them every day of the year, not just on one designated day. So, why would you just make goals for betterment and self-growth one sole day of the year? Is it because everyone else is doing it? It just puts a really bad taste in my mouth. This isn't to slight people that believe in it and actually work to achieve them... It's just not my cup of tea. Last year, from the turn of 2017 into 18, I had hoped for a midnight kiss. My best friend, the blonde in my mini-series, aspired for the same thing. We were at an all-inclusive bar with mid-grade liquor and unlimited hors d'oeuvres. It was quite the setup because, although it was $100 a person, we certainly got our fill. And, our clever selves set up sleeping bags at my office, which was across the street. In a drunken cloud after the night, we would be able to avoid surging Uber prices and nestle our way to my office carpet until the new year daybreak. Well, that is how it ended, but to rewind to the rest of the night: Freezing my cheeks (both) off in my cocktail dress with a new pair of pumps, the server I had my eye on for the New Year's kiss had his eye on someone else. Which is fine, it's New Years! What did I think? To find my soulmate on New Year's night? It's not like the person you kiss is the person you'll kiss through the entirety of the year. Even I knew that. But, when he decided to kiss my best friend-- oh, it made me a little resentful. But, like all things, it passed. Not to mention, I had two other takers approaching me near the countdown, but it was less than eventful...well, one of them. The other one of them: He sheepishly approached me and couldn't keep eye contact. I made a joke to break the ice, "so, how much was the bet." The amount of guilt that consumed his face, forced out a laugh from my ruby-stained lips. Cowardly, he's slugged away. So, not only did I lose my desired kiss for New Year's to my best friend, but my only other taker was part of a bet and I called him out on it? Yay 2018 LOL most people, usually the ones that follow New Year's resolutions, believe that meant my romance category was tainted for the duration of this new year. But I couldn't be bothered with such superstitious rubbish. And so I returned to the popcorn shrimp stand and jammed to Tom Petty as the cover band played 3 of his songs ;)) Night made. Everything in life is what you make it and I don't believe you need a ball dropping, sparklers, balloon dropping (with cash nestled inside), or a midnight's kiss to start off the year with a bang! Well, I guess some people's midnight kiss may end in a bang (ba-dap-chhh!)Well, one thing that certainly doesn't drop the ball is a Salted Caramel Chocolate Cake. Oh, and it's zero calories in case your resolution (if you're about that life) is to lose weight in any capacity ;)))For the Cake
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Single Bell, Mingle Bell, Single Bell Rock She's got no ring but it ain't no thing. Movies and cocktails and cruising 'round town Dont' let feelings bring you down Single Bell, Mingle Bell, Single Bell Rock Mingle around the blockkkkk. Date Chris Cringle and Jack Frost- you'll see, That's the Cringle Bell Rock. What a bright time, it's the right time, to date your time away. Single? Swell time, opportune time, go venturing through the state. Single Bell, Mingle Bell, Single Bell Rock Mingle around the blockkkkk. Date Mr. Bingle and Rudolf, you'll see, That's the Single Bell- that's the Jingle Bell- that's the Mingle Bell Rock! It's the most wonderful time for a beer. Skip the tinsel and shopping And start the bar hopping, To bring on the cheeeeeeer! It's the most wonderful time to drink beer. Your name doesn't have to be carol to sing 'em!You hear those shakers shaking and cookies baking oooo-oooo! It's lovely weather for a tini together or two. Because the leaves are falling and dates are calling yoo-whoo! It's lovely weather for a tini together or two. Giddy up, Giddy up, Giddy up, let's go, In the south there's no snow We'll hop in a kayak and we'll gooooooo. Giddy up, Giddy up, Giddy up, it's grand, Just hold someone's hand. He won't stay past the season, but that's okay Our cheeks are nice and kissable but hopefully not too miss-able ooo We're snuggled up together but he'll change with weather ooo. Come they told me ba rump bump bump bum. I'm going to the club to shake-a my bum. He's furthest from a king ba rump bump bump bum. But he'll buy you a drink ba rump bump bump bum rump bump bump bum rump bump bump bum. And your drinks you'll clink rump bump bump bum Then that's done. Even though I'm not single this Christmas season, I found these parodys (by yours truly) quite entertaining.
This blog was founded on dating defeats... "We built this city on dogs to trollllllllllllllllll." But, sometimes it's important to celebrate the little victories. *gold star* And isn't the best way to celebrate a victory with a drink? Unless you're 5 years sober-- good for you!! (Sips nonchalantly in the corner)I laughed wayyyyyy too hard at that! Okay okay, so this story doesn't involve a cat or a pina colada....but it does involve wildberry margaritas! "Stephanie, what's a--" "I don't know. What's a shnazberry?" "Willy Wonka?" "Umpa lumpa, lumpade-do. I've gotta 'nother puzzle for you. What's got lime and salt on the rim? Hush hush and I shall be-gin." On a holiday in Chicago, I ventured into a Mexican restaurant with my cousin and his wife, after being blatantly ignored at a sushi restaurant, only to find the atmosphere welcoming and the food prices evoking feelings only found at a Fiesta. Not only were the prices on point, but the cute cashier blessed me with a free Margarita. He kept coming back to our table to check on us even though he was a cashier and not a waiter. No phone number, no name exchange, just a free Margarita and a little dollop of attention with my guacamole. TEQUILA LIME MARGARITA CAKE
2. Combine the flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt in a medium sized bowl. Set aside. 3. Cream the butter and sugar in a large bowl on medium speed about 2-3 minutes, until light and fluffy. 4. Add the egg whites and vanilla and beat on medium speed until well combined. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, as needed, to make sure everything is combined. 5. Add about one-third of the flour mixture to the batter and beat on medium speed until incorporated. 6. Add the milk and beat on medium speed until incorporated. 7. Add another third of the flour mixture to the batter and beat on medium speed until incorporated. 8. Add the lime juice, tequila and lime zest and beat on medium speed until incorporated. 9. Add the remaining dry ingredients and beat on medium speed until well combined and smooth. 10. Divide the batter evenly between the cake pans and spread evenly. 11. Bake the cakes for 25-30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the cakes comes out clean. Don’t be alarmed if the tops are a little browned, that is normal. 10. Remove the cakes from the oven and allow to cool for 1-2 minutes, then remove to a cooling rack to cool completely. 11. To make the frosting, add the butter and shortening to a large mixer bowl and beat until smooth. 12. Slowly add about half of the powdered sugar, mixing until well combined and smooth. 13. Add the lime zest and lime juice and mix until well combined and smooth. 14. Slowly add the remaining powdered sugar and mix until well combined and smooth. 15. Add additional lime juice, if needed, to thin out the frosting. 16. To put the cake together, trim the tops of the cakes so they are flat. The cake layers should be pretty flat, but if there’s a dome, trim it off. 17. Place the first layer of cake on a serving plater, then top it with about 1 cup of frosting and spread into an even layer. 18. Add the second layer of cake and another layer of frosting. 19. Top the cake with the remaining cake layer and frost the outside of the cake. I used my 9 inch offset spatula to create the lines on the side of the cake, but feel free to leave that off. 20. Finish off the cake with swirls of remaining frosting and lime slices. Then sprinkle coarse sugar sprinkles around the top of the cake, like salt around the rim. 21. Invite Lorraine over for a slice. https://www.lifeloveandsugar.com/2018/08/08/margarita-cake/ "I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?"You’re a flash in sky, forget the pan
Consuming attention, all that you can Creating quite a consensus of awe “Most spectacular [they] ever saw!” Every head turned and jaw agape Blink and we’re a little too late Operated by computer command Beckoning for an ovation to stand Appearing only for massive crowds Stealing thunder from the clouds Beautiful? Yes, but self-assured One-night loneliness, you’re the cure Requiring so much But withholding touch Numb to emotion, party in mind Following the smoke — impossible to find But as your finale takes its turn Sky is consumed with fire’s burn Flashes of white, then black is cast Alas, you’re now a thing of the past |
AuthorChef Steph cooking up trouble. If she can't find anything real, she bakes real good sweets. Chocolate really may mend a broken heart... Archives
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