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Sometimes I have so much crap to tell you about that I just wanna explode. And it’s hard to work all that stuff into a post with a recipe for muffins. So, here’s some crap I’ve been meaning to tell you about. With no recipe.
Last week, I went to baking school to get fitted for my uniform. When I put the chef’s jacket on? I wanted to do my happy dance. I wanted to woot woot with delight. But because I was alone, and knew no one there, I just said, “yes, that should be fine,” in a very sophisticated way. But inside? Fan kicks and an epic freeze frame. Also, I got to try on my checkered pants. They are really a teeny-tiny gingham. But I guess they don’t call them that because the dudes in the culinary programs might get confused.
Did I tell you that I got a bite guard? I’ve had it for a few months now. It’s super duper sexy. Turns out that when you’re a little ball of neurosis, you really clench your face for like, 40 years. And then one day your super-awesome dentist is all: why don’t you get a bite guard? You know, since you’ve got some sort of prehistoric bone growth happening on your palate? So, you get one. And for the first time in decades, you stop getting face aches and start sleeping through the nite. Do you know how much smarter sleep makes you? It makes you WAY SMART. I love my bite guard. Even though it makes me drool a little. And should our house ever catch on fire, I’d rescue it first. Just kidding. I’d rescue the
I’m way obsessed with Draw Something. Not as obsessed as I am with Bakery Story, but pretty obsessed nonetheless. I can’t draw, so it makes the game especially awesome. Also, it makes my fingers feel like GIANT fingers. Because it’s really hard to draw say, a hospital complete with helicopter and landing pad, with your humongous fingers on a tiny iPhone screen. I can’t tell you how glad I am I got an iPhone. It makes wasting time so much more convenient.
2.0 and I went to Ironwood Farm last week. Every time I go, I love it more. We got some of our hodge podge veggies there. Heatherjay and Rupert dug ‘em right outta the ground for us. Also, I got to feed baby sheeps with bottles. It was one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done. I wish I were kidding. FYI, baby rams like to ram you. They’ll take their floofy heads and jam them right into your thigh. And they will try to eat your clothes. Also, going to a farm makes you feel like you are doing absolutely crap-all with your life. Because Heatherjay and Rupert will say things like: oh, you didn’t know we’re making our own prosciutto now? And then you feel stupid for not making some at your house too.
And finally, the other morning I woke up to niles (the cat) attempting to french kiss me. I have nothing more to say about that, so I’ll leave you with some photos from Ironwood Farm.
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