Nothing like fresh pain to bring to life, words of a song you never paid mind to. This song has been out for about a year and was showed to me by my best friend. I didn't conceal my disinterest in it, yet she said it helped her. Another quote out of context that illustrates my suspicion about the motive for ripping this relationship up from the roots sounds something like this: Where'd you learn how to act like that? But don't worry, I don't wish I were bread.Today's suitable recipe is pain d’épices |
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!
From eastern standard to central standard, from a coastal suburb to the capital of the Lonestar state, my dating life affects you.
After each call confessing the toxic nature of the next "catch," you sit disgusted, yet introspective to ensure such powerful reactions are warranted.
Your thoughts were never carried across the phone lines we tightrope daily.
Thoughts like: It's her life. She's grown.
Surely she knows this is-- does she know?
Is her judgement that endangered?
Is her worth extinct?
Does she know she's better than this disgrace of a man?
Her track record pretense.
It breaks me that she casually excuses his manipulative behaviors, again.
No, she's not foolish naive enough to allow the same individual to repetitively... Is she?
Disappointment.
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.
I didn't push you away after hours exploring a national landmark at a preserved park. I preserved my emotions and sailed on the spontinuity waves of living life unemployed together. I still have trouble believing you picked me over her. That's possibly why I never picked you. I never picked the possibility.
Let's pretend I didn't freak when you tried to be intimate. Not with your clothes off, but actually connect. Let's pretend you didn't notice my distance and forgave me anyway.
Let's pretend I didn't crumble in your car that afternoon I gushed my turmoil to deter you from a broken woman; I still wish those were things you never knew. I don't ever think I'll see you the way you saw me and I wish that didn't scare me.
I had a sweet spot for him.... for a season. I valued my time alone so much, I couldn't imagine him or any other flavor consuming my time. It's not always "the guy," sometimes it really is you and your needs in the moment. Sometimes I love the smell of candy corns, other times I couldn't be bothered.
- 1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
- 1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
- 1 1/2 cups white chocolate chips
- 1 cup peanut butter chips
- 1 cup coconut
- 1 1/2 cups candy corn
- 1 (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
- INSTRUCTIONS
I used a box of graham cracker crumbs, but if you only have actual graham crackers, process them in a food processor until they are a fine crumb. Stir into butter. Press into the bottom of your prepared pan.
Sprinkle white chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, coconut, and candy corn over the top. Pour sweetened condensed milk evenly over the top of the bars.
Bake for about 25 minutes, until they get golden around the edges. Cool completely before slicing into bars.
https://www.crazyforcrust.com/candy-corn-magic-bars/
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
Steph
While bartenders are cute and witty, they are also paid to flirt and increase their tips. That's why you have to sift through the compliments and take your heart out of it. GAHH is that easier said than done. I constantly have found myself taking one little thing a boy did for me or say to me and create this fantasy of a life this could be.
If a guy says he wants me, I believe he means for commitment.
If a guy says I look pretty, you would've thought no one had ever told me that a day in my life.
If we talk on the phone for 4 hours, I assume this is going to become part of a routine.
If we plan things in the future, I'll believe we'll actually have one.
And on and on and... oh yeah, ON!
And THAT'S why I am taking this single thing seriously. That's why I still write about dates I've been on and entertain new relationships only to a small degree. Trust is something so precious, that it's a rarity I seldom indulge.
Do people (mostly guys) call me selfish and a slut and a serial dater? YOU BETCHA. Am I going to give power to those empty words when I'm still discovering what is most beneficial for me? Who else is going to have your best interest at heart? Even for these guys, who is going to have THEIR best interest if they don't?
To quote Gigi, "I know I put myself out there too much, but at least that means I still care."
Keep caring, my friends.
I give you the animated world of Steph's dating in her premiere post of Dates and Cakes Blog.
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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