32

32 is my magical childbearing age. I can feel it in my bones uterus.

Why 32? Because like mother, like daughter.

No, my mom didn’t have me when she was 32. She had me when she was 27, just before turning 28.

But my parents had been trying to get pregnant for about a year before I was conceived. Ask any couple who’s been trying to conceive for a year. I bet they’ll tell you it was the longest year of their life.

But the strongest driving force behind the age of 32 is the knowledge that my mom began menopause around age 37.

37.

I’m almost 31. 37 is just around the corner.

And although the prospect of a cramp-free existence is exhilirating, the idea of not being able to have a child terrifies me.

So 32 is my age. At 32, married or not, I’ll be putting my savings towards the turkey baster method. Or I’ll just become a turbo-slut until I’m pregnant.

I haven’t decided which route to take yet. I’m leaning towards the disease-free-turkey-baster route.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “What are these pants you speak of?—Inurbase

Scariest Comment From Last Post: Peg-o-Leg’s comment, which you can read here.

#12. Eat a Homemade Pop-Tart

What are you doing this weekend? Going to your kid’s baseball game? Skip it.

Instead go to Southeast DC…

You: You’re sending me to Southeast?! Are you trying to kill me? 

Southeast DC had a bad reputation, but it’s cleaned up. I swear.

Besides, won’t you stare down death for this delicious homemade Pop-Tart from Ted’s Bulletin?

SPRINKLES! (Yes, I had to use all caps. I'm that excited.)

They had a Peanut Butter Maple Bacon Pop-Tart. A bacon Pop-Tart. I shit you not, bacon lovers.

I opted for strawberry because I’m a fruit filling gal.

So with #12 on my 35 Before 35 list completed, I started to head home. And then I saw the Sweet Lobby cupcakery.

Sweet Lobby recently won Cupcake Wars. So you have to try a cupcake and a macaron.

Then to work off your sugar overload, walk one more block to the Eastern Market and shop.

So go to Ted’s and have a Pop-Tart. Then walk to Sweet Lobby for more sugary goodness. It’s just one block. You can do it. I have faith in you.

What’s that? You can’t eat a Pop-Tart, macaron, and cupcake all in the same day? That’s why they make to-go boxes.

Amateurs….

Ghosts, and Pirates, and VooDoo Queens, Oh My!

There is more to New Orleans than just bars and beads.

It’s also about ghosts…in bars.

Boo!

Blarney and I took a ghost tour that stopped at a haunted bar. Awesomeness. That bar was called LaFitte’s and was owned by a pirate. Rrrrrr….

We went back to see it in the daylight…where I saw this in the courtyard:

I think this lizard is the Pirate LaFitte reincarnated.

We also visited the grave of VooDoo Queen Marie Laveau. Here. Educate yourself.

New Orleans Cemetery Fun Fact #1: Nicholas Cage will be buried in the same cemetery as the VooDoo Queen. His grave is a pyramid.

New Orleans Cemetery Fun Fact #2: When the caretaker offers a tour and then locks you in the cemetery, don’t panic because OH-MY-GOD-YOU’RE-LOCKED-IN-A-CEMETERY-NEXT-TO-THE-PROJECTS-WITH-A-STRANGE-MAN-WHO-MAY-SACRIFICE-YOU-TO-THE-VOODOO-QUEEN. He’s just keeping the ghosts in and the hoodlums out.

I was afraid to take a picture of the VooDoo Queen’s grave, but I did buy lots of VooDoo Dolls.

That's Pinhead in the middle.

PS: Did you enter to win the Chocolate Zombie Bunny yet?

Alligator on a Stick: The Breakfast of Champions

I almost ate only dessert in New Orleans. Almost.

But with The Road Food Festival in the French Market, how could I resist trying nondessert food?

I can’t even begin to describe this deliciousness. It was a baked potato with crawfish, crab, shrimp, and other seafood. Best. Baked. Potato. Ever.

In case you don’t know, my diet consists of fruits, veggies, salads, and mass quantities of desserts. That’s it. Period.

But, for the sake of the blog, I made an exception for alligator…on a stick.

Possible captions for this photo include the following:

• Seriously?
• What am I supposed to do with this?
• This looks like a…”sausage.”

I didn’t really like it. It was spicy. I don’t do spicy. And I don’t like sausage. (Notice the absence of quotes vs. the quotes above.)

I’ll let you caption this last picture.

Beignets Are Funnel Cakes in Disguise

I went to New Orleans for the beads food.

Initially, I was worried. My picky and sensitive palate might not be able to handle all that Cajunness. I mean, I only recently worked my way up to the Medium salsa.

What if everything was too spicy? What if I had to resort to eating only desserts the entire trip? That would be awful! Waaaaaait…who am I kidding? That would be awesome!

Blarney and I walked to the nearest Sucré in the Garden District.

Confetti "Crack" Cupcake and Coconut "Crack" Chocolate Gelato

It’s not a coincidence that these flavors begin with “C” like “crack.”

Don't be fooled. Green slime on key lime pie is delicious.

Next up…Cafe Du Monde‘s beignets.

Blarney and I were disappointed. They were tasty, but we learned something very important. Just because something is called a doughnut doesn’t mean jelly or custard or something equally tasty is in the middle.

 Beignets = Funnel Cake

I also ate Pralines, Chocolate-Covered Marshmallow Sticks, Baked Alaska, and Triple Chocolate Cake. I’m sorry I don’t have photographic proof, but here’s why:

Thoughtsy: I’ll take one Baked Alaska. Extra chocolate sauce, please.

Guy: Here you go, Baby Doll. (Yes, they actually called me that. And I liked it.)

Thoughtsy: (::taking a bite::) Mmmmmm…. Oh. I should take a picture. (::shrugs and continues eating::)