It's time for moving on, my kittens.

I have started a new blog as a symbol of sorts that I've finally started moving on with my life. There are so many things I've gone through in my life in the duration of this blog's lifespan, and a lot of them I'd prefer to not have to think about as much as others... Mainly my relationship with my biological mother, her sister, and everything in my life that has anything to do with either one of them.



And so, if there are any of you left out there, I've created a new blog. A phoenix from the ashes, so to speak. You can find me here now. To those of you who still check in to see if I'm writing, and any of you who have read my blog in the past, thank you.



Thank you for being there with your supportive comments, for letting me entertain you occasionally, and for your readership. I have truly appreciated it.

I've really got nothing witty for this title...

I am just in the mood to write. Not sure what to write about yet, but you'll probably read it anyhow and waste ten minutes of your life you'll never get back just hoping that I'm going to say something witty and hilarious.

Sorry about the ten minutes.

I got a pretty new pair of shoes... They were on clearance for $20 at DSW. Oh, how I heart DSW. And Chinese Laundry. God bless them for making shoes in size Clownfoot that are comfortable and freaking adorable. I wore them to the drag show this last Saturday night, and holy hell were they comfortable! The drag show was a blast, as usual, and it was country themed. Normally I don't do country, but they did a lot of older stuff, Garth Brooks, Reba McEntire and the like. It was so much fun. One of my good friends, who is a queen at this particular club, performed a fantastic duet of 'Does He Love You?' as Reba. Bravo, Q... You rocked it.

I did have a decent amount to drink, so I eventually ended up dancing barefoot. My feet were so disgusting and dirty the next morning. Which didn't really matter in comparison to the sore arm and thigh I had from slipping on the ice in front of the bar.

Just call me Grace, ya'll.

I did dance my ass off that night, and it was wonderful. Though combining a good buzz with those strobe and laser light shows made me a little dizzy. Another beer cured that. I began to wonder if I was on a freaking acid trip after a while. Booming bass, strobe lights... It was what I imagine it would feel like if Baz Luhrmann directed my life for a few hours.

Poor Erflet has a double ear infection... He hasn't had one since before he was two. I got a call from Erf this morning to bring him in to urgent care, and thank sweet baby Jesus they still make ammoxicillin in the bubblegum flavor. I'm actually a little jealous, I loved that shit when I was a kid.

Erf, I am now happy to say, has a girlfriend. She seems to make him very happy, and I'm so incredibly thankful for that. He deserves happiness.

I have started seeing a new guy who has totally blown me away. I've never been treated this way by a guy in my entire life. He really is the epitome of a gentleman, and I'm eating up every second of it. I know, try to hold back your gasps of shock. Plus the conversation is amazing, and there's certainly some chemistry there. We had a fantastic first date last night at Blackwater, he actually wore a dress shirt and tie. I wore a little black dress with red pumps. It felt great to be on the same page with him. There were all those cute little awkward moments you expect on a first date, but they were far more cute than awkward. We will be seeing each other again soon, as we both agreed that a second date is definitely something we'd both like to see happen. For now, I'm just looking forward to the next time I get to see him.

Ooh, and he wears glasses. And kittens, you know what glasses do for me. Dress shirt, tie, dress slacks, glasses and smells incredible? Oh yes, I was so weak-kneed.

Other than that, nothing really too new...

Whew, one big holiday down, one to go!

And thanksgiving this year began much like thanksgiving last year did. With me dropping something.

Thank god it wasn't the apple pie, like it was last year! No, this year, it was a heavy glass candle holder. And I broke the fall with my foot. Sweet Baby Jesus, did that hurt! I still have a curve-shaped bruise from that sucker.

So I suppose I should actually update on what's going on in life lately, as it's pretty much been, date-date-date-food porn lately...

On the dating front: Jason is now in a relationship with another girl. But it's good, they're good for one another. We are still friends, and this is what's important. Travis and I stopped talking, I'm not heartbroken by this. Still haven't heard from the hot waiter. I've got a few guys I've been chatting with that want to take me on dates. So in other words, all is busy and well. :)

On the work front: Things have been going pretty well. Been getting lots of training in other areas of the store. And except for stupid dramz, which we all know I fucking HATE WITH THE FURY OF A THOUSAND BURNING URETHRA, it's good.

On the family front: My family is excellent as always. A few hits on the head with the crazy stick here and there, but otherwise good. :)

On the me front: Bought myself some Beavis and Butthead pajamas. I am more than pleased with this. It's probably one of the most epic purchases I've made since my pink glitter stilettos. I'm also going to a Christmas-themed drag show this Saturday and debating wearing them to the show. Because really, if glitter-coated pumps aren't appropriate at a drag show, then where, I ask you?

On the Erf front: Proudly, we haven't fought in a few months. We are getting along really well, and I think we really are becoming friends again. It feels good, I hated having to guard everything I said. And this can't be anything but good for Erflet.

On the Erflet front: He's lost his first tooth! He's getting so big, and I'm in total disbelief that he's almost six. Fuck, where does the time go? He's doing great in school, and reveals more and more tendency towards my personality every day. This is both awesome and horrible, as I'm a huge smartass. It's gonna suck until he learns how to control this magical power he has inherited.

So all in all, things are going great. Little bumps and hiccups in the road, but nothing serious. :) I'm so glad, it's such a 180 from what my life was like a year ago. Further proof supporting that sometimes what's bad in the short term can be good in the long term.

Food porn is back, kittens!

I know it's been a shamefully long time since I last posted food porn. Please, hold your produce.

Seriously? Who threw that?

Anywho, you all have my lovely momma to thank for my bringing you this food porn. Because I'm terrible daughter and I'm about three holidays in baking debt, she demanded nothing short of excellence for her birthday this year. I could tell there was no fucking way I was getting off the hook...

She asked me for entremet. Not that particular one, but it's basically a multi-layered dessert with contrasting flavors and textures. My only response to her was, 'why do you hate me?'

She replied with some blah blah blah about challenging my skills and demanding excellence and I wasn't really listening.

So I look up recipes for entremet. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, all these damn recipes are in metric form. I'm too lazy to convert them. Eff that ess. I'll do what I do well. I'll make something up.

Her primary request was that it be chocolate. Easy enough. Without further ado, here is my version of entremet (I apologize to your bandwidth):

I decided my stable layers would consist of Ghirardelli devil's food cake. Four layers, to be precise.

Oh yes, bitches. I went there. I made an ICE CREAM ENTREMET. My mom loves coffee, so I figured this should have an interesting texture, and you can't go wrong with Ben and Jerry!

One layer of devil's food cake sprinkled with coffee, then Coffee Heath Bar Crunch ice cream. It looks fabulous already!

For my middle filling layer, I chose to go with chocolate mousse. Something light to contrast the heaviness of the ice cream. Forgot to take a photo of the spread layer though. I fail.

What contrasts coffee? Peanut fucking butter, kittens! And I thought the pretzel would be pretty cool to add some extra crunch.

Yes, this was as time consuming as it looks. But pretty, so worth it. :)

I used a springform pan to hold it together while it set in the freezer. I used one that was too big. Oops. Whatever, it worked.

It's the leaning tower of Cheeza! (Bad Goofy Movie reference)

Was I done? Oh, no, kittens. I wasn't done. My mom loves dark chocolate, so I made Ghirardelli 60% bittersweet chocolate ganache to cover the whole thing! It ended up being too bitter with the devils food cake, so next time I'll use milk. Still, MOAR CHOKLIT!

So pretty and shiny...

Very impressive looking, no?

My dad's verdict: "It's like 1,000 pornographic orgasms". My mom loved it.

I'm fucking screwed for her birthday next year...

I'm creating a new tag...

Dating is decidedly becoming less and less of the bullshit variety with every date I've gone on lately.

I went on a second date with Travis, and I have to rant and rave about his mad skills... In the kitchen.

Seriously, trying to figure out something to do in this godforsaken town on a Sunday night besides the tired old 'dinner and a movie' schtick is damn difficult. So he invited me over to his place for dinner and said he would cook for me.

I will never say no to food, kittens. Then, he one-upped himself. He told me what he was planning on making.

Bacon (!!!) and goat cheese stuffed chicken with homemade mushroom risotto. Bacon, cheese and risotto? Dear sweet baby Jesus, I was drooling like mad. It was on like Donkey Kong, bitches. So we made plans for Sunday evening. I told him I would make him dessert, and finally decided on Oreo Butterscotch cheesecake.

This is already shaping up to be an amazing evening, no? Then I offered to bring the movie I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell as Travis hadn't yet seen it... With vernacular gems such as, "If you ever speak ill of the pancakewich again, I will force feed you one while I fuck you in the ass using the wrapper as a condom, and then donkey punch you when the infused syrup nugget explodes!" and "I'd rather fellate a hot curling iron than drive 250 miles because Tucker breast-fed until he was nine." What's not to love?!

I show up at 6 with cheesecake in tow. He wrapped his arm around me, put his hand on the small of my back (which is seriously a huge thing for me, I love it) and kissed me hello. Boy, it was warm in his house...

Then I got to watch him cook. He's pretty damn adept in the kitchen. Everything smelled absolutely amazing, and most everything was done or well on it's way to done by the time I arrived. I offered to help, was there anything he needed me to do? Oh, grill the asparagus?

I meant is there anything I KNOW how to do? No? Alright then. I'll stand here and watch. :)

Dinner consisted of bacon and goat cheese stuffed chicken, mushroom risotto and fresh grilled asparagus with lemon butter sauce. It. Was. Fucking. Amazing. He is such an excellent cook. We brought our plates into the living room and ate dinner. After we finished eating, we cuddled on the couch and just relaxed. (Yeah, yeah, get the, 'awwww' out of your system)

After Tucker Max was done, I sliced and diced the cheesecake, drizzled the slices liberally with butterscotch, and Travis made fun of my springform pan. It was fancy, or so he said. He seemed to be thoroughly impressed with my baking skills. He accused me of buying the cheesecake and trying to pass it off as my own. Um, no... Totally all me. I rock in the pastry department.

Then we watched Talladega Nights and cuddled some more. All in all, a very fabulous, relaxing evening.

My son is also apparently well on his way to becoming a nudist. Seriously, we're in the door less than ten minutes and his monkey ass is stripped down to his underwear. What is it with children parading around nearly nude?

My tummy loves Blackwater.

I had a date last night. Yeah, that's been happening a lot lately. Dating is bullshit, but it also is not. Seeing as I've only had one bad date, I'm kind of digging this whole dating thing.

Last night was my first date with Travis, the guy I blogged about texting with the other day. Seeing as how our text message conversations have been riveting and full of hilarity, I was very damn excited to meet him in person. He has a thing for old-fashioned military pinup girls, so I decided to go with something to accentuate the hourglass figure. :) I wore a fitted black pinstripe pencil skirt that hugs my curves, a green button up shirt, a black lace camisole, black pantyhose and black peeptoe pumps.

Yeah, he's 5'9". I'm so cruel.

We agreed to meet at one of my favorite bars, the one where I used the best pickup line ever. I ended up getting there a little early, luckily, because so did he. He looked adorable in jeans and a button up shirt, and was far cuter than his profile pictures. We picked a table and sat down. There were some fun awkward silences... He was a little quiet, but he found me to be entertaining. Which, hi? Awesome.

There was definitely an attraction in the air... Even though we both joked about how we were incredibly ugly and stupid, lol. The conversation flowed better as the night progressed, and the sexual innuendo was rampant. It was really fun, I was actually disappointed it had to end.

He walked me outside, and cracked a joke about how he needed a stepladder... And then he kissed me. And it was lovely and wonderful. He's a good kisser.

We talked for a while again last night and today. We've got plans to see each other again, just trying to figure out what we're going to end up doing. :) And I'm very pleased with this plan.

Chalk one more in the 'decidedly NOT bullshit' column for the dating tally.

I really do turn a lovely shade of merlot when I'm embarassed...

Today I went out for lunch with my mom and a few of her co-workers... We went to Applebees. Because, duh, 2 for $20? Of course!

I gorged myself on boneless wings and ate 1/4 of my salad, but whatever.

We had a really cute server. Really cute. Of course everyone at the table comments on it, and I agreed...

I smiled, held my glances a few times, being generally flirtatious, but trying not to be overly so. He brought us some plates for our appetizers and asked if we needed anything, and I said something along the lines of no thank you, but I didn't look at him. My mom comments on how flirty I was.

Um, huh? Wha? I didn't even LOOK at him! Apparently the flirt was in my voice. Huh.

So then he commented on her nails, and I kind of struck a conversation about how I designed them and he was smiling and flirting, and I was smiling and flirting back.

After he walks away from the table and we THOUGHT he was out of earshot, my mom and I turn to each other and say, "Now THAT was flirting!"

He walks back and says, "Yes, it was!"

I turned such a lovely shade of deep red at that point. It was still nice to have our suspicions confirmed. :) Luckily he was really cool about it and it didn't really get awkward, but I just had to write a blog post about it. It was too funny.

Yes, I left him the link... Clever, no?

Alright, back to Castle to distract myself from my piece of shit phone being a total douche canoe and not working. AGAIN. Less than two months until I'm eligible for upgrade... Less than two months until the archaic motherfucker gets it's ass traded in for credit...

I will have a replacement coming in, but it doesn't get in until Wednesday. Until then, I can only make phone calls. FML. *sigh* Oh, well.

It's all about the Yamslam.

I'm sitting here with a huge grin on my face.

OkCupid, you have redeemed yourself. Seriously. I'm happy to know that not all the guys on there are creepers. Matter of fact, I met one who has thus far been pretty damn awesome. (Referencing a previous post, he's the one who is slightly older, witty and smart)

Messaging was slow at first, but excellent conversation nonetheless. Then we began exchanging texts, and the conversations got exponentially more fantastic. It takes a lot to stimulate me on both an intellectual and humorous level, and this guy hits both of those in just the right way. We start talking on the phone. Like teenagers. It has been refreshing, fun and exciting. Topics range all over the map, and he gets serious bonus points for being a Nathan Fillion fan.

The best part of all of this? It hasn't felt awkward at all. The only phrase I can come up with to encompass the way it's felt is that everything has just flowed naturally. When you can talk to a stranger for 2 1/2 hours four nights in a row, you click.

The conversation of course progressed to the discussion of meeting in person. He stalked me and found my blog (Hi, Jason!), and was even sweet enough to give me his personal info so I could quell any worries by Googling him. He was worried that I would censor myself when writing about our date... Oh kittens, you know me well enough to know that isn't the case.

Fortunately the thought of censoring myself never needed to flit it's squicky fingers against my mind, because there is absolutely nothing I would not be willing to say to him about our date. We ended up sort of combining both of my other first dates into our date today, and blew them both right the fuck out of the water with our combined awesomeness. We met for coffee and breakfast, and that was relaxed and fun. Lots of silences staring into each other's eyes and smiling. Yeah, go get your barf buckets kittens; I'm waxing poetic and feeling the uterus taking firm control. Shut UP.

I'll rein the bitch in, but for tonight I'm enjoying it. Just go with it.

We walked around Canal Park and browsed the local shops, particularly the antique shops (which, hi? Sparkly old fashioned jewelry?)... Jason found the gasps of happiness I frequently made when seeing sparkly things very entertaining. I'm a girl, it's sparkly. And sparkly is one of my favorite colors. We did see the bottom half of a mannequin hanging from the ceiling by chains in one shop at the Dewitt-Seitz Marketplace (sort of a mini mall with local businesses), and he took a photo of it. Awesome.

We held hands. We browsed art galleries. We were followed everywhere by photos and paintings of scary and homicidal-looking clowns. Like Pennywise, eat-your-motherfucking-brain-scary clowns. It was damn funny. Lots of paused glances where we would look into each other's eyes and both totally chicken out about kissing each other.

We went to lunch and had some of the most delicious pizza I've ever had... Margherita base pizza with mozzarella, goat cheese, prosciutto and arugula. See also, eating arugula without pizza is not the best idea I've ever had. That shit burns. I felt like I had the vagina of a woman of ill repute replacing my mouth. The restaurant plays some of my favorite music, and pretty much every song that came on was a song I love. Baby It's Cold Outside, La Vie En Rose, Sway... I so wanted to get up and dance. La Vie En Rose makes you want to have someone's arms wrapped around you, moving to the rhythm of the music...

Luckily neither one of us minded the garlic breath from the pizza. :)

Yes, to answer your question, we are going to get together again. Yes, my insides feel like I have the thoughts of a giggly little 15 year old girl replacing my own. Yes, I'm squealing internally at the thought of spending more time with him. Yes, I'm aware that I am a huge pink beaver. No, I'm not ashamed of it.

This date? It was decidedly NOT bullshit.

Just one more thing I have in common with Debra Morgan.

If you don't know who Debra Morgan is, well, I just feel sorry for you not having experienced the wonder that is Dexter. I heart him like whoa, and I would so marry him and make Harrison a good mama.

Anywho.

So Sunday night was my date with drywall guy, and this date actually went rather well! I met him at a local brewery/pizzeria owned by a couple I know (sending business to the locals, ftw!) around 7. Yes, I texted my mom to let her know when I got there. Apparently by 9 she was beginning to get worried. Good thing beer has a direct line to my bladder, because I texted her when I was peeing and she relaxed a little.

We had a good date, it was low key, and there was beer and pizza... Which, hi? Awesome.

I told him I thought he sounded surprised when I called him last week, and he said that he was. He told me he was driving and thought it was a client calling, and had to pull off to the side of the road because he was so shocked. Yeah, I was totally 'awww'ing on the inside. :) So sweet.

I'm pretty sure he's around 40, which is what I have in common with Debra Morgan. He's kind of like my Special Agent Lundy. Except I haven't slept with him. The night ended in a hug, which was nice. He hasn't called yet, but I'm not too stressed out. If I don't hear from him by tomorrow I'll call him. There was some confusion, he may be waiting for me to call. I'd feel a little bad if that's the case!

I've been talking to a few guys from OkCupid, and they're all pretty cool so far. One in particular is hilarious, one is sweet, and the other is also a little older but witty and smart. So I've got a little rainbow of flavor going on.

God it's good to be keeping busy! Except this motherfucking cold that's creeping up on me. I wanna kick it in the taco so hard it's great grandchildren will be born walleyed.

Alright, I know it's a short post but I'm heading to bed now to try and whip this cold's ass. Tomorrow calls for vitamin C with a strong chance of hot tea.

The evolution of the girl formerly closed off from social interaction

It started back in May with a flirtation from a hot guy.

It progressed to making out with a guy I had just met (and nothing more).

Now, it will all culminate in the event I've been waiting for... My first date.

Yes, I've officially been invited out on my first real date. Jilly and I were out at the local Irish bar again last night, and a guy behind us told the bartender he would like to buy us a drink. Well fuck yeah, of course! We had a delicious shot made into a drink called the Ugly Betty, which is a specialty of theirs. And it is orgasmically good.

We got our drinks, turned around, cheered, introduced ourselves and continued on. I was, of course, totally flattered because I've never had a random guy buy me a drink before. Smiling like a fucking idiot working her diaper.

Speaking of crotchitals, I wore the most gorgeous 5" stilettos EVAR (Yes, I'm six feet tall and love wearing sky high heels). For your drooling pleasure, may I present my newest love, in pink. I had to pee (I swear beer is a damn diuretic), and when I sat down to pee I almost fell off the damn toilet because I forgot to account for the extra 5" drop. Not a mistake I made again the rest of the night, but it was funny as hell to sit on the toilet and have my knees come up to my knockers.

So after we finished our drinks and were waiting on a friend of Jilly's to show up so we could hit the titty bar again, the guy who bought the drinks came up behind us and asked if we were still thirsty. We politely declined, explaining that we were getting ready to leave. He turns to me and said something along the lines of, 'I don't normally do this but here is my card. I'd like to maybe take you out for drinks sometime. You have really beautiful eyes.'

I am pretty sure I turned purple, I blushed so hard. For being a dirty perv, I sure do blush like a prissy prude. Very annoying.

I took his card and we thanked him and went on enjoying the rest of the evening. I had my ass grabbed by a hot stripper, it was great.

When I got home, I Googled him... Sort of odd, but in this day and age it would be stupid not to take advantage of the opportunity. Nothing odd showed up, just a few blurbs about the business he owns - which I already knew from the card. So I figured what the hell, everyone deserves a fair shake, right? (Not that kind of shake, dirty kittens.)

I called him.

I have no idea if I broke some unspoken rule about how long you should wait to call a guy who gave you his card because zomg he'll think you're a desperate tramp if you call him right away but I'm pretty sure that might only apply to girls who call the guy like a half an hour after they last see them because that would be really stupid and if I don't know what the social rules are does it really matter if I've broken them because I can just sort of make up my own and I mean at least I waited until the following day right?

*deep breath down into the diaphragm*

Whatever. I did it. He sounded kind of surprised that I called, and it was a little awkward being all, 'So, um, you said you wanted to take me out for drinks... Are you still up for that?' I actually said something along the lines of, 'I wasn't sure if you were drunk enough not to remember me...'

Motherfucking linguistic master, that's me.

So anyways, he had me pick where I wanted to go and I picked a local pub that makes their own microbrews and some awesome pizza. Pizza and beer is a pretty low-key, casual first date. And what guy doesn't love a girl who likes pizza and beer? If nothing else, it will hopefully be a nice way to spend an evening. And it'll boost my ego into nosebleed territory.

My first date. Wow. Times, they are a'changin.

Holy hell, it's been over six months.

To the three of you who might still be following my blog, thank you. To any newcomers, my record is spotty, but I plan on updating at least once a week from now on.

So much has happened, my little kittens. So. Much. Shall I give you the CliffsNotes version? I'm going to pretend you're all sitting there in vapid admiration agreeing with every word I say, so here goes.

Last you all heard Erf and I had just moved into our new place in Duluth. Since then we've moved again... Into separate apartments. Back in October, I told him I wanted a divorce. I will explain, but that is a whole 'nuther post for a different day when my brain can handle writing about it.

We lived together until early this month (which, AWKWARD), and I got a one bedroom place in Superior while he and his friend got an apartment together in Duluth.

While this is bad news bears for multiple reasons, I can't help but be ridiculously excited for my very first apartment all on my own. It feels weird sometimes and I've been finding things to do to keep me out of the apartment when I don't have Erflet with me, but I'm getting more and more comfortable with it each day. I'm very slowly beginning the unpacking process (even though I've been here three weeks)(for real, I've had a crap ton of shit to do with wrapping things up from the old place and am just finding real free time), which is nice and annoying all at once.

I do hate not having Erflet with me every day, and it doesn't help if I'm doing something and lose track of the time that Erf texts me that Erflet was crying because I didn't call him to say goodnight. At the same time, I feel horribly guilty because I do enjoy the breaks I get. I shouldn't be enjoying this, but I've never had this much time away from him. Seriously, before now I'd never spent more than two nights away from him since he was born. He's now 5. I guess for now it's a novelty I'm sure I'll outgrow.

Work has been crazy insane and is looking to increase by a fucking buttload. Our doctor came on full time this summer, and since then we've been burdened with more jobs than we have staff or equipment to handle most days. Sam has put in his notice as he's sailing into bluer waters, and I'm very happy for him because if anyone knows how hard he works and how much time he puts in - it's me. However, this leaves my proverbial sperm sack in a vice because I'm the only one there who knows how to come close to doing his job until they find and train a replacement. And that means I'll be open to close six days a week after he's gone until they find a new manager.

I'm crazy thankful for the security and the overtime (which they hate authorizing, but is totes necessary in this case), but this means that my day off every week - which is my only solo day to spend with Erflet - is gone after next Thursday until further notice. Plus on top of trying to keep our heads above water jobwise, I get to train on paperwork and such with Sam before he leaves so someone can get it done.

Enough bitching.

I got to be a bridesmaid for the first time in my BFF's wedding this past October! For any of you good kittens who have read my not-really-recent-but-still-most-recent posts, the bridal shower cake was a total hit. It was a deliciously moist coconut cake with almond filling and vanilla buttercream frosting done in ivory and lavender. Anywho, it was an insanely beautiful wedding, she was absolutely stunning. And the reception was so much fun! She moved down to Arizona with her new husband, and is doing fabulous down there. :) As she so eloquently phrases it, 'the desert agrees with her'.

I went from light brown to bleach blonde to black hair. One of these days I'm going to go fucking bald, and I'll have no one to blame but an empty box of hair dye... Next up is red. :)

The whole unintentional weight loss has been going fairly well... I dropped from a size 22/24 to a size 18/20. And the fact that I'm in a second floor apartment sure as hell isn't going to hurt. I've been learning my lesson not to go crazy when grocery shopping; my building is also a secure building - so I need at least one hand free to unlock the downstairs door. I also don't spend half of what I used to on groceries... It's been nice.

Except I keep finding stupid things I need to buy, like a dry erase board to remind myself of all the crap I need to do that I keep forgetting to do but people keep getting pissed at me for forgetting to do them and so I bought myself the board so people can stop yelling at me. And I bought a new showerhead (because I overzealously broke my old one trying to install it), and I've named it Gerard because it has two heads... One is removable and the other is stationary. Which means I don't have to go cold when I use the handheld to... um... shave my legs. Yeah. And a dish drain. And I have to buy some sort of shelving thingamajig, because I have a lot of shit and a really small fucking kitchen.

Not too sure what else there is to say for now, but I have internet at this place so you can bet your sweet little asses I'll be updating way more often.

I leave you with something I thought at work today that sounds incredibly dirty and really isn't:

"Sometimes it's really annoying when the box is soaking wet."

There is nothing that sucks more than feeling useless.

Especially when you're a parent who feels useless.

You kittens might be wondering what I'm feeling useless about...

After the last few nights (and a few nights a week during the past month) of Erflet waking up screaming, shaking, and inconsolable - I did what any parent would do. I Bing'd it.

Night terrors, that is.

Like the good mother of a newborn I was, I read the What To Expect books. The pregnancy one, the first year one, and the toddler years one. Back when I had time to read a book and it wasn't a few pages here and there while I was on the commode.

By the way, Erflet thinks it's hilarious to come into the bathroom while I'm laying a deuce and mock me by saying, "Can't I poop in peace?" He's his mother's son.

Anywho, there was a mention of night terrors - to which I paid ZERO attention, obviously. Mommy fail. Some part of my post-partum frazzled baby spitup coated brain must have stored it, though, because I remembered what they were called long enough to type it into the browser.

Kidshealth.org describes night terrors thus:

"Night terrors typically occur about 2 or 3 hours after a child falls asleep, when sleep transitions from the deepest stage of non-REM sleep to lighter REM sleep, a stage where dreams occur. Usually this transition is a smooth one. But rarely, a child becomes agitated and frightened - and that fear reaction is a night terror.

During a night terror, a child might suddenly sit upright in bed and shout out or scream in distress. The child's breathing and heartbeat may be faster, he or she might sweat, thrash around, and act upset and scared. After a few minutes, or sometimes longer, a child simply calms down and returns to sleep."

Holy balls, have these bastards been watching in my windows? This has been happening for the last month (also, yay for mommy guilt, because these began occurring around the same time we moved and so now I feel responsible)(fuck. me.) at least a few times a week and has happened the last three nights in a row.

And there's nothing I can do - he has to 'outgrow' them. My little sister apparently got to the point of running out of the house and punching and kicking people during her night terrors. Great. And, a child has an 80% higher chance of experiencing night terrors if a family member has had them!

On a brighter note, Erf, Erflet and I are going to go hiking again tomorrow. Between working on my feet, not eating as much as I used to, and hiking/walking/swimming, I'm beginning to lose some weight. I say that as I sit here eating half a pint of Ben and Jerry's Mud Pie ice cream.

You know what would be awesome? If I were a size 14 again. I was at my ideal weight when I was a size 14, because I'M SIX FUCKING FEET TALL. Yes, I am tall enough to enter America's Top Model, but I will never do that because I would be so tempted to bring in baked goods and get the skinny stick figures with poufy lips all fat and then I'd get kicked out of ATM and I'd laugh and tell my grandchildren the epic story someday.

Also, then I could wear those adorable jeans I've been holding onto for the last 6 years because my big lard ass can't fit into them anymore but I don't want to get rid of them in the hopes that I'll fit into them again someday.

You have those jeans too, don't lie.

Food porn and a new template!

So many exciting things to see and salivate over!

I needed a change, kittens, so here it is! A fresh, new and sassy template for you to feast your eyes on.

And speaking of things to feast your eyes on, have I got some food porn to catch up on. Holy schneikes. Chocolate ruffle cake, brownies, and other assorted delicious confections that will make you wish you lived in my kitchen. :)

For now, we'll start with the most beautiful (not to mention challenging) dessert I've made to date. Chocolate Ruffle Cake!

It was sent to me by a gentleman who won a contest at my mom's workplace for a free cake. He wanted to try it, but didn't want to make it himself. So he asked me to make it. It's a chocolate genoise cake filled with chocolate and vanilla creme fraiche and raspberries, brushed with framboise syrup, topped with chocolate ruffles and wrapped in chocolate.

I'll pause for a moment while you go get yourself a towel.

It all starts with the chocolate genoise, of course. It's an easy cake to make, requiring only butter, vanilla extract, flour, cocoa powder, eggs and sugar. The recipe tells you to combine the eggs and sugar in a large, heat safe glass bowl and heat over DIRECT HEAT. Being the dipshit blonde I can be sometimes, I put the glass bowl directly on the burner. Did you know that Pyrex sounds like a gunshot when it explodes? Not to mention how much fun it is to clean sugar/egg mixture from underneath your stovetop. Off to WalMart to buy a new bowl. Aaaaand, take two. This time I put the bowl over a pot of boiling water, and heated the mix to the instructed temperature. Much better. After following the rest of the instructions for the genoise, I pull this pretty, dense and beautifully crumbed cake from the oven:

The most interesting part, in my opinion, was the creme fraiche. It's apparently some sort of delicacy, because you can't find it in a normal grocery store. And rumor has it that if you CAN find it, it's hella expensive. So I searched the intarwebz for a recipe and made my own creme fraiche. (Note to you all; creme fraiche needs to sit at room temperature for about three days before it's ready.) It was a delightful new experience to the tastebuds; thick, creamy, with a sour nutty flavor. Add some sugar and vanilla extract, and it's absolutely delicious once it's whipped:

Once you're ready to fill the cake (seriously, this cake took me four days from start to finish), you torte the genoise into three layers. Then you make the framboise syrup, which consists of water, sugar, and white rum. I KNOW, RIGHT?!

You take an 8" springform pan, line the bottom with parchment paper, and gently put in the bottom layer. Brush it with framboise syrup, then fill it with chocolate creme fraiche. Brush the bottom of the next layer with syrup, and ease it on top of the filling. Then, brush the top and layer with fresh raspberries. Cover the raspberries with vanilla creme fraiche, then brush the bottom of the top layer with syrup. Ease it over the filling, then brush the top with syrup. Refrigerate overnight, loosen the sides of the pan, and this is what you get:

Doesn't look like much yet, but it's gonna be gorgeous! Next, you make the wrap. All you do is spread melted chocolate over parchment paper and carefully press it into the sides. Refrigerate for a few hours until the paper peels away easily. Then top with the remaining creme fraiche and prepared chocolate ruffles, with a single pretty raspberry:

No, I wasn't naked, just in short shorts. :)

Here's what the finished project looks like:

Have you drooled all over your keyboards? I know it was tough for me not to keep a slice for myself. Unfortunately, I didn't get to try any... But they said it was amazing. :) I'm waiting for a special enough occasion to try making this for myself. Or at least to make it for someone who will save me a piece to try. :)

How I got squirted on by (an obviously male) machine.

So I'm sitting here going through my Reader, and I decided that I'd much rather write shit for people to read, than read shit that other people have written. I've got a couple of pretty good stories from work so far, and I thought I'd do the fabulous thing and share them with you.

Not like you have a choice about what I write. So ha. :)

My new job as a lab technician is going swimmingly. My third day on the job I was able to do a pair of glasses, from start to finish - by myself. Wahoo for me! From what everyone has told me, I seem to be smarter than your average bear. Or technician trainee. Whatever. It was kind of hilarious, because as my manager and I were talking about the other trainee, he told me had to keep reminding himself not to compare his progress to mine, because I was way ahead of where I should be.

Someone's going to have to come pop my fucking ego, because my head is too big for me to fit through the damn door. Seriously. I am awesome.

Also? Erf and Erflet are play wrestling in the living room. It is quite distracting, but in a cute, 'father-playing-with-his-son-who-may-randomly-hit-his-father-in-the-nuts' way.

So the whole process involves tracing the glasses, entering the prescription into the computer, lining up the axis, using the metal blocks and alloy machine to block the lenses, using the generator to cut in the prescription, buffing and polishing the lens, adding anti-scratch coating if necessary, blocking the lens again, cutting it to shape, adding UV protection or tint if necessary, then mounting the lens (ha, mounting) into the frames and checking to make sure the glasses are as they should be.

Well, on Thursday I was in the starting station - doing everything up to the generator. And I was trying to block a lens with the alloy machine, I broke the lever. This lever? Not an easy fucker to break. There's a huge spring that I undid or some shit, and the machine had to be taken apart to re-mount the spring. Both Sam and Lucas kept laughing and saying, "We've never seen anyone do that before." Because, apparently? It takes a lot of torque to undo that spring. I am she-woman, hear me roar!

Sam and Lucas proceeded to tease me the next few days about laying off the 'roids. :) FYI, the guys I work with (even though Lucas is a fuckstick and had quit - Saturday was his last day - before I started) are fucking AWESOME. It was mildly amusing when they each said to me, "Let us know if anything we say offends you." Because, ha! I can't recall the last time I found anything offensive. I'm a crude bitch, yo.

The other day I said to Sam, "You know, I do actually like Celine Dion. But, you know, I've got a vagina so it's cool."

The look on his face was priceless. Like he's never heard a female talk that way. Poor sheltered guy. He's in for such a shock. :)

So later that day after breaking the lever, I had left a cooling ring on the alloy machine and the alloy cooled and hardened inside the rubber nipple. (Dudes, I know. This place is full of hilarious and awesome innuendos.) I could not, for the life of me, dig out the alloy. So I did what any true blonde would fucking do. I pulled the lever in the hopes that the alloy would melt the cooled alloy. Apparently, the alloy machine was seeking revenge. It decided to squirt me with shiny, silver, 114 degree metal. Typical male, showing me who was boss by spooging on me.

Apparently even inanimate objects find my tits irresistible. Because that's where it decided to shoot it's load. Right on my chest, and down into my bra. Yeah, I know. Of course Sam and Lucas crack up laughing, and manage to spit out, "We've never seen anyone do that before!"

They say that a lot. To me, anyway.

So I had to go in the bathroom and fish alloy chips out of my tits. I came back in and said, "You know, that's the first time I've ever taken my bra off at work. It was rather awkward."

Yes, kittens! It's a POST!

I know, I've been a terrible, terrible blogger. I haven't updated with regularity, and every post since I got the interwebz was strewn with hostility and a complete and utter lack of humor.

And humor was something you were used to getting from me, kittens. It was something *I* was used to getting from me. But for a while there, I lost it.

I quit my job on Thursday. It felt hella good. It felt like I was getting oral from Gerard Butler while he was offering me diamonds with one hand and chocolate with another. It was delicious, and my tummy was all full of the butterflies. That's not to say that I didn't appreciate the opportunity to learn and grow, but let's face it - when a job nearly makes your husband leave you, it's to the point where it's JUST. NOT. WORTH. IT.

I interviewed for the job on Wednesday morning, and by 3:30 Wednesday afternoon they were calling me to offer me the job... I am going to be a lab technician (doesn't that sound all fucking grown up and shit?) at an optometry place called Eyemart. I'm going to get a white lab coat to wear. One that doesn't make me hug myself all the time! I'm going to be cutting the lenses for glasses and assembling the glasses.

Most importantly, I'm going to have pretty much set hours and I'm going to have a steady paycheck. Because it sucks to have your landlady asking you when you'll be able to pay her SOMETHING towards rent. And having to tell her you didn't know because you didn't know when your next paycheck will be? It was a huge flux from when Erf and I were both in steady, full time jobs and paying our bills with money to spare. I hated it, and it was depressing. And while I know there will still be struggles ahead, I'm looking forward to the time when Erf graduates from school and is able to get a big-boy job, I'll be working full time, and we'll be able to afford a fucking date night now and then.

When I informed my boss of my intentions to terminate my employment, I thanked him for the opportunity and said that he and I both knew that it wasn't working for me. And I didn't (and still don't) feel it's fair to keep working somewhere where it's just not working. He was a good boss. But he looked at me and said, "It's hard for it to work out when you can't give it 100%." And I realized that this was the right choice. 100% means spending more time away from my family than I am willing to, it means sometimes going 3 or 4 days without seeing my son, it means being absent from my marriage... I gave it 100% once. My husband threatened to leave me, my son was having behavioral problems.

Nothing is worth that. Never again.

I like working a set schedule. I like having someone to answer to. I like knowing how much money I'm going to make. If that makes me less of a person in their eyes, than so be it. But I'm happy again for the first time in a long time. I can have tickle fights with my family without being annoyed. I have happily watched my son's behavior problems dissipate.

Yesterday was my birthday, today is Mother's Day. A weekend of celebrating getting myself back. To celebrate being able to have my family begin to reconnect.

I missed me.

Sex on your screen...

No, I'm not talking about skanky-Barbie-humping-ugly-guy porn. You dirty hussies.

(Shh, I look at porn too. It's okay - healthy, even!)

I'm referring to Food Porn. Yes, it deserves capitalization. You haven't had Food Porn in, well, just way too damn long, kittens!

Because I'm a dumbass and forgot to take any other photos of it, here's a pic of my very first attempt at cheesecake. Orange Delight Cheesecake. It's a delicious lightly flavored orange filling, chocolate crust, and topped with a chocolate drizzle.

It was as delicious as it looks. ;) The photo above was of my mom's second piece.

My determination for making this cheesecake is unmatched; I saw Tiramisu Cheesecake, and I just had to make it. So here we see my chocolate crust (made of crushed chocolate Teddy Grahams, because you can't fucking find chocolate graham crackers anymore).

Now, the recipe touts that marscapone cheese is supposed to make this cheesecake extra-rich. Well, it called for 8 oz marscapone, and 16 oz regular cream cheese. I like things very, very rich. So 24 oz of marscapone it was. The recipe also called for ladyfingers, but I forgot to make them and couldn't find them at the grocery store. So I used vanilla pound cake instead. It worked out, meh, so/so.

I will be the first to tell you this - MARSCAPONE TAKES FOREVER TO BAKE. Don't be stupid and use all marscapone. It doesn't work that well. But, being the diligent baker I am, I just lowered the temp to 200 degrees and let it bake. It did come out with a lovely golden brown crust on top of the filling, though. Silver linings and unicorn farts, people.

Et voila! Tiramisu cheesecake. Filling comprised of marscapone, sugar, egg, vanilla, and coffee-laced rum. Then you top it with sour cream while it's hot (it adds to the flavor, I swear). It called for a dusting of unsweetened cocoa powder, but I said fuck that and grated semi-sweet chocolate over it all. Much prettier. :)

Springform pans are WIN. I cannot imagine making cheesecake sans springform. The crust was a bit overdone, but next time I'll be smart enough to down it back to the called-for amount of marscapone and I'll make homemade ladyfingers.

It was still orgasmically delicious. ;)

Dream about that tonight, kittens. I'm off to help Erf figure out his FaceSpace... lmao.

I think I might be a wee bit OCD...

My name is Ashley, and I am a compulsive Chex Mix separate-er. I cannot simply grab a bag of Chex Mix and imbibe. No.

I must first eat all the pretzels I can. Then come the breadsticks. After that, the rye chips. Which, really, aren't that bad. It's sort of my reward for choking down the awful pretzels and breadsticks. Then I separate the seasoning-drenched Chex from the barely-seasoned Chex. I totally save the best for last.

If I were a kajillionare, I would totally buy Chex Mix in bulk from Sam's Club or Costco - or fuck, maybe from General Mills themselves. Cut out the middleman cost. Then, I'd pay ten or so people like, $20/hr to sort the Chex from the rest of the mix.

Because when you're stupid rich, you can do stupid shit like paying people to separate your Chex. Kind of like in the movie Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory - the old version with Gene Wilder, because Johnny Depp's Michael Jackson-esque nose freaks me the FUCK out - Where Veruca Salt's father buys up Wonka Bars by the box and has his peanut-shelling factory workers shelling chocolate bars.

It would make me undeniably happy. As long as they wear gloves and stuff. Cause, you know. I'm not a germaphobe, but hand-washing is good.

I'm going to attempt my first shower today. Yes, I'm yucky and unshowered. But I just got a removable support yesterday, gimme a break. I don't like to take showers sitting down, and I'm pretty sure I can balance myself long enough to get clean.

But seriously, around 2 am this morning I thought that because lightly walking on my sprained ankle didn't hurt, it would be a good idea to actually do it. This morning, my ankle laughed at me and told me, albeit physically rather than verbally, that walking on it right now is NOT in my best interest. I'm anxious and impatient to be able to walk on my feet and ditch those stupid mothercocking crutches. Having a sprained ankle would be a picnic if not for those damned crutches.

Also? I slept in until 10 am this morning. And it felt GLORIOUS.

Tomorrow, I think, calls for Food Porn. What do you think, kittens? I have a wee bit of food porn to catch up on. ;)

I heart me some Castle...

I'm sitting and watching Castle with my mom... Job-searching for Erf....

The best quote from Season 1:

Beckett: "What is it with guys and boobs?"

Castle: "It's biological."

Beckett: "Doesn't' it bother you that they're obviously not real?"

Castle: "Santa's not real, but I still enjoy opening his presents."

Also, my new ring arrived today! My momma was nice enough to buy me a new wedding ring as a partial Christmas gift - because my old ring was beginning to tarnish on the inside.

To which I introduce you all to my new, sparkly friend:

It is so much bigger than I'm used to; my old wedding ring was an eternity band with maybe 1mm stones in a channel setting. The central stone on this ring is 7mm. I know, holy crap hugeungeous stone!

It's going to take some getting used to, but I'm prepared to take the time.

It's sparkly, I'm a girl, do the math.

I'm excited/nervous for my job interview and my job training tomorrow. It's that happy excited feeling, and I really hope that this all works out. I'd love to be able to have the internet at home.

Cause having to drive 15 minutes to sit in a chilly basement (even if hanging out with my poor bed-rest-ridden mama is totally worth it) kind of sucks. Plus, in Duluth we have The Hills. Not Heidi and Spencer Hills, but huge gas-sucking, brake-killing hills.

Hills that Evil Kneivel wouldn't brave post-blizzard in a vehicle.

I'm glad that I live in Superior, because Superior is pretty Hill-less.

Off to head home and watch Star Trek and My Sister's Keeper.

There's something about a pair of 4 1/2" stilettos that makes a girl feel...

Delicious.

It makes me want to battle the Orangutan Gene (shave my legs), put on a short skirt and a looooooong jacket.

I'm wearing my adorable Ciao Bella booties (yes, those are the ones I've got, and I got them on wicked sale for like $20 at DSW). They sound ridiculous, because I used to abhor the idea of booties. Until I tried them on. And then I realized.

Shit, they look good on me!

Plus, the inside is this soft, buttery leather. It makes my feet happy. Which, for being 6' tall WITHOUT heels and wearing 4 1/2" stilettos... It's saying a lot. I have a passion for wearing high heels. Luckily Erf (who refers to my booties as Grandma Shoes, cause they have laces), who is shorter than I am flat-footed, likes it when I wear heels.

I haven't found the courage to wear them without long pants yet, however. I still adore them anyhow.

Halloween... Let's see. Erflet was a ninja, I forgot to take pics with my phone due to the chaos at my father-in-law's house for my neice's birthday/trick-or-treating party. My grandpa got some, I'm just waiting for him to send them.

I did get photos of myself, though. Cause I sent them to Erf to get his approval.

Erflet was a ninja this year, and I went as his 'victim'.

All it took was red nail polish and eyeshadow.

Yes, I'm still smelling acetone from removing nail polish from inside my nose.

But I'll be dipped in shit and rolled in breadcrumbs if my wounds didn't look pretty fucking real, even if they weren't swollen. However, this gives you a great view of my dedication... Not only did I put NAIL POLISH on my FACE (which worked beautifully and looked way better than lipliner) but I lined my eyes with dark pink lipliner to look like I had been crying.

Except yesterday when I went to the grocery store for ingredients for turkey bacon BLTs and salad...

I realized when I got out of the car that while I sleepily removed my makeup and nail polish the night before, I still hadn't showered or really washed my face. So my pink eyeliner? Still on.

I was wearing Erf's leather motorcycle jacket (which is sort of redundant since we don't have a motorcycle)(Goddamn it, I wish we did) and had red-rimmed eyes.

I'm sure people came to one of two conclusions.

A.) I was cracked out

B.) I had been beaten by my husband.

Too bad I didn't have my full ass-kick makeup on still. :)

My friend Megan and I were chit-chatting this a.m. about my makeup. She told me that she wanted to come be my nurse. I asked her if she would leave the panties off under her outfit. She said of course. I asked her if she was going to take my temperature - with a strap on.

She laughed.

I'm such a good friend. :)

Also, I sliced my palm open on a chunk of sucker yesterday. Only me...

It hurts, someone come kiss it?

It's Food Porn once more!

So a month or so ago, my friend Meghan had the brilliant idea to have a chocolate party. She had tried something chocolate that I had made, and realized that it would be fun to get a bunch of ladies together for a chocolate sample party!

Then she decided to go simply crazy! She had a Mary Kay party co-mingled with the chocolate. Cause chocolate? Great selling tactic. Even if you're not going to buy anything, you're getting free chocolate!

So she placed her order: a French Silk pie, an 8th Deadly Sin pie, a Double Chocolate Orange Torte, and Strawberry Shortcake Cookies. The 8th Deadly and Strawberry Shortcake recipes are ones that I created myself; the cookies I made especially for Ooh Law Law. :)

We met at a local Mexican restaurant and planned; and I remembered the cute mini tart pans I bought a few months ago. The idea for the mini-pie was hatched. Cookies are self-serve no matter what, and the torte would just be cut up prior to serving.

I'll have to split this into two posts, as I'm sure 16 photos are a bit much for one post. :)

Chocolate crust for the 8th Deadly Sin - too cute!

They're just sitting there, waiting for the cinnamon french silk, ganache and whipped cream...

Ah, there we go! Being a smart cookie (some would just call me a smartass, but whatevs), I piped different designs on each kind of pie so we could tell them apart. Stars seemed to work well for my 8th Deadly pies...

But I went with a shell/swirl combination for my French Silk.

Here are all my pretty ladies. Wouldn't they be perfect for something like a baby shower?!

Next up on my list; Double Chocolate Orange torte. A chocolate orange cake (made with fresh-squeezed orange juice and orange zest), filled with orange marmalade, drenched in a luscious chocolate ganache frosting, and garnished with hand-piped chocolate and a fanned strawberry.

Because Meghan was calling it a Chocolate Decadence party, I piped that out for the garnish.

(This is the side that says, 'Chocolate', by the way...)

And 'Decadence'.

Tomorrow, Strawberry Shortcake Cookies and the pretty place cards Meghan's mom created for the goodies...