Look, I don’t know about you other bloggers, but you people pump out posts like fucking machines. Seriously. How do you do it??
Picture this: You’re recently promoted and literally working under your new boss for like 4 days (mostly remotely because you’re also in the process of moving offices) and she gets engaged.
Ok, so you’re all gonna laugh, but I’ve been honestly planning on what to do for my 100 followers post back when I was only at like 70. I peaked at 70 for a good long while — figures that going on a blogging hiatus for several months would cause some problems. A-duh! Right?
Well, right. Now that I know that.
If it seems like I talk about my boyfriend a lot… you’re absolutely right. I totally do; but he’s so stupidly cute sometimes I can’t help myself.
And plus, if mommy blogs and chit chat all day about their children and inspecting their stools I can talk about dogs, cupcakes and my hairy boyfriend, DAMMIT.
Relationships are beautifully fraught with dizzying proclamations of love beset between pleading sobs. Intricate and delicate when they start, we all so carefully tip toe around each other, hoping our significant other doesn’t find out about that weird thing you do, you know what I’m talking about. That thing you did in fourth grade and don’t want anybody to know about.
By that thing, she means SCHMEHHHHHHH
(this is what happens when your boyfriend uses your laptop to play online “protect the castle” games while I’m neglecting my writing so I can play The Sims 4 on his desktop.)
I have a major confession for you all. Your resident mediocre baker and sweet-tooth enthusiast hates candy. Yes! This is wholly true! I actually hate candy. There’s just something about that fake-ass gross milk-chocolate-everything sticks-in-your-teeth-forever thing that just does not appeal to me. Even as a child, yes I was the child that hated candy (you can certainly imagine how popular I was), I could just tell that mass produced candies were tasteless and inferior.
So it’s Saturday, and I wake up to my mother hovering over my bed. “Are you gonna wake up?” She asks shrilly. “What’s the problem?” I grumble, hiding the fact that I’m hungover. “Is twelve tirdy and people are coming ova. You gotta git up!”
You see, my mother has an accent, which I mimic spectacularly well. I mean, shit 22 years of hearing it, and you can bet your sweet ass I’m gonna be a fucking mimeograph of her voice.
I love to watch the sunrise. Well, technically I don’t watch it because the blinds in my room are always closed… but the idea of watching the sunrise is beautiful… as I sit behind my laptop screen.
And then I like to go straight to sleep.
Because I’ve been awake. Meaning I didn’t go to bed yet. Meaning I go to sleep when normal people are waking up to go to work.
Ah yes, the life of an unemployed millennial. Read More »
Some people like to go to bed the night before thinking about everything they want to accomplish the next day. “Oh I gotta get my hair did” or “Shit, how am I going to avoid seeing my cousin at the birthday tomorrow?” You know, these people like to feel like they have structure to their day because they are organized responsible.
I am not one of these people.
When I woke up at my usual hour of 12:30pm, I was horribly bored of my day already. Just a day in the life of a stay-at-home daughter, am I right guys?. I had made the pão de ló the other day, and now I was stuck with ten fucking egg whites in a Thai food take out container. What the hell am I supposed to make with this shit? Egg white omelets? What do I look like to you? Some healthy chick? Nah, fuck that noise. We go big or we go home.
I was originally thinking of making macarons but I’m still recovering from the 6 times i made them wrong a year ago