Sometimes I wonder, just how many helpless romantics out there are made by chick flicks, imagining the perfect guy is just out there somewhere waiting to be bumped into. Oh, how disillusioned you are. For those of us waiting, it certainly doesn't help to have a movie give all sorts of false ideas of what Mr. Right should be like, and is especially harmful to single believers.
Chick flicks have a very attractive formula. Hot guy + creative idealist/career-woman + cute story + stuff (aka inappropriate material) = a fly trap for buzzing helpless romantics. Let's be realistic. He doesn't have to be hot, you don't have to have it all together (or a career), love at first sight is the exception to the rule, and what happens in the master bedroom needs to stay in the master bedroom.
On a side note, Erin McKenna worked her magic on me again. I made Triple Chocolate Fat Pants Cake the other day. Oh, was it decadent. God gave us a gift when He gave us chocolate.
"We should get jerseys, 'cause we make a good team.
But yours would look better than mine, 'cause your outta my league." -new from the stuck-in-my-head-all-day playlist
When you're in that mood to just bake, nothing can stop you. And of course, if you have a delicious new recipe to try, you've gotta give it your all. I received my first cookbook as a graduation gift. Immediately I fell in love when I saw that most of the recipes were gluten-free (the perfect inspiration for a Celiac). So today, I had it in my mind to bake a recipe from the BabyCakes NYC cookbook. Some of the recipes were a bit too time-consuming for my allotted time, so I picked scones. Not just any scones, raspberry scones. Mmmm, Mmmm, good.
To get me in the proper baking mood, I threw on shorts and a t-shirt and slipped an apron over top; then did my hair as Erin McKenna as possible and set Frank on. Oven preheated, ingredients lined up, and BabyCakes open to raspberry scones, I began to bake, being careful to be as precise as possible as instructed by Erin.
As all the ingredients came together to form the batter, I was getting excited. I felt so domestic! Ah! I think I could bake forever. Raspberries folded in, the batter was ready for the parchment paper. Scoop, scrape, splat, and into the oven. I don't know which was harder, waiting for them to bake or waiting for them to cool. Oh, but once, they cooled, they were decadent. The glory of delicious gluten-free pastries! Thank you, Father!
The only joy that comes close to the joy which comes from eating good food, is the joy which comes from listening to new music. Modcloth posted a summer playlist with a free download. Righteous. I so enjoy indie. I could feel my ears smiling as I listened to Weltschmerz (Smitten Song) by Lacrymosa.
To end the day, well, that portion of my day, my brother and I took a walk. I had him wear my "sweet-action" shades. They looked pretty good on him, but then there isn't very much that doesn't.
The work aspect of my day is not worth writing about. Sleep calls, and will not go unanswered. "Hello?"
