Tag Archives: Chocolate

It Feels Good to be a Gangsta

Whenever I see other bloggers, we tend to exchange gifts. Usually people give me Pop-Tarts, and I give…booze.

And I don’t do the classy thing and give a nice bottle of wine, I give flavored liquor…in tiny bottles…to carry in your purse and whip out in an emergency.

Why? Because you never know when you’ll need a shot of vodka…to sterilize a zombie bite. Obviously.

Are you following my logic here? Probably not. Just know that on this blog, everything comes down to 3 5 things:

  • Zombies
  • Pop-Tarts
  • Dessert
  • Key Lime Pie Martinis
  • Gifts for Me

Anyways…last weekend was all about Pop-Tarts and Gifts for Me.


Misty made me homemade Fig and Bacon Pop-Tarts.

I was so impressed with the homemadeness I blocked out the bacon part. You see…

Confession #1: I don’t really like bacon.

GASP! There are only 2 exceptions.

  1. The first is the bacon that’s crumbled up on salads that’s covered in so much brown-sugary-maple goodness that all you taste is sugar.
  2. The second is this:


Hesitant Bite #1


Need-a-Bigger-Mouth Bite #2

That’s right, Misty. Your Pop-Tart was yummy. I mean that in a undirty, uncreepy way.

But wait…that’s not all. I got even more Pop-Tarts! Some from Misty and more from The Hipster. (Note: I did not give The Hipster booze. I gave her cookies.)


The Hipster and I also had the 3 Cs this weekend: crab, chocolate, and ice cream. Life is good.

Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta Pop-Tartsta.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Honestly, if you’re being attacked by a shark, you’re pretty screwed no matter how many heads it has. (Except zero. If a zero headed shark attacks you, you’ll probably be OK.)”—The Cutter Rambles

Will You Be My Doctor?

WANTED: An OB/GYN doctor. Sees patients on time. Doesn’t pass judgment on nontraditional pregnancies. Orders the correct bloodwork. Small hands preferred.

I’m searching for a new doctor because I’m tired of mine screwing up bloodwork.

My doctor wanted to test my progesterone levels, which have to be tested on Day 21 (during ovulation) of my cycle.

So on December’s Day 21, I had blood drawn. A nurse called with test results.

Nurse: Your pregnancy test came back negative, and your blood type is O negative.

Me: Uh…I know that. I thought my progesterone was being tested.

Nurse: Hmmmm…the doctor ordered blood typing. Did you have a Rhogam shot after your miscarriage? When you’re pregnant or miscarry, the hospital tests your blood type and they give you a shot so you don’t have problems with your pregnancies.

While I was pregnant, I read about this shot. But since Kiefer and I were both negative blood types, I didn’t need it. I knew that.

But when someone with some medical background says you’re supposed to get a shot so you don’t miscarry…and you’ve already miscarried…you start flippin’ the eff out.

And if you’re me, “flippin’ out” means tearing up while thoughts run through your mind that the miscarriage could have been prevented.

A couple hours later, the doctor called me back saying the nurse was “confused”; I didn’t need the shot, but I should come back next month on Day 21 for the progesterone testing.

More needles. Fantastic.

Right before my next blood draw, I ate a piece of chocolate to calm me down…yes, just one because I don’t really like chocolate anyways I have excellent self-control when it comes to sweets because only one piece was left.


“Discover how much your heart can hold” turned out to be a prophecy for my blood work saga.

So I was chocolate-pacified and ready to be stuck. Except the doctor forgot to write up the order. So I waited. And waited. And waited.

I waited in an office full of pregnant women and mothers with babies.

And I remembered why I was there…why I was having blood drawn…and I started to tear up. And then I remembered that needles freakin’ hurt, so I started to get upset at the anticipation of that.

Finally, they called my name…and it was the most painful blooddraw yet.

Lady, my veins aren’t deep! STOP DIGGING!

And I thought that was the limit that my heart could handle. I almost passed out. But I didn’t.

Unfortunately, the blood wasn’t drawn while I was ovulating, so I have to go again next month. And every month until my blood is drawn during that 2-day window when a woman ovulates.

I thought that was the limit that my heart could hold.

It could take months to have blood drawn on the right day. Why am I still doing this stupid testing? I’m single!

Really? A few pricks were upsetting me? What happened to the woman who was completely prepared to raise a child on her own if Kiefer didn’t propose? What the hell happened to 32 and the turboslut turkey baster method?

I’m gonna kick that needle’s pointy little tushie! See you on Day 21, biatch.

Turns out my heart can hold a bit more.

Favorite Comments From Last Post:

  • “Asshat. x10.”—Blissful Britt
  • “I’m sure he only pinched you to make sure you were ripe.”—Skipping Stones
  • “Immaculate conception by leprechaun? The Bible kept that part quiet….”—Bevchen

3.14…Did Someone Say Pi?

Math is not one of my strengths. It used to be. I rocked math until 11th grade. That’s when I took Pre-Calc and Trig, earned my first C, and it was all downhill from there.

I swore off math forever. Well…until I was required to take a math class in college. Then Math and I came to agreement. Math agreed to leave me alone as long as I retained the basic skills needed to balance my checkbook or convert measurements for baking. After that, we shook hands and went our separate ways.

Until now. Tomorrow is 3-14: Pi Day.

When the Accidental Stepmom announced her Pi Day Pie Challenge, I decided to let a small slice of math back into my life.

May I present to you…my Pi Day Pie.

The recipe came from NanaBread. But the center decoration  of Cherry 3 Musketeers was all my idea.

I hope I didn't go overboard on the syrup.

I hope I didn’t go overboard on the syrup.

I may have added even more chocolate syrup after this picture was taken.

There’s till time to submit your own pie! You have until midnight tonight!

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “Friends don’t let friends drunk dance with aliens. That’d make a great t-shirt.”—Chase McFadden

10 Commandments of My Future Boyfriend

Being single (and reflecting on past relationships) helps you realize what you want in your new relationship.

I made a list. I really like lists if you haven’t noticed.

  1. Thou shall list Facebook Relationship Status as “In a Relationship With Thoughtsy.”
  2. Thou shall not ever give me unfrosted Pop-Tarts.
  3. Thou shall like chocolate. Or not like. I’m not sure. Is it better to have the chocolate all to myself or to have someone to share it with for weight management purposes?
  4. Thou shall not tell lies.
  5. Thou shall occasionally read my blog.
  6. Thou shall make me the rainbow pancakes once.
  7. Thou shall make me feel loved and wanted.
  8. Thou shall like cuddling.
  9. Thou shall not get mad when I touch your bare skin with my icy cold fingers.
  10. Thou shall carry me around occasionally.
So, yeah…I think that’s it. I’m pretty low maintenance. #4 and #7 should be givens, but even a couple of my “good guy” exboyfriends occasionally fudged those up.
#10 is especially important. I’m 5’7″. That means I’m the tall girl, so not many guys are tall enough to throw me over their shoulder or carry me around.
Carrying me around is important. Not because I’m lazy…Well, a little because I’m lazy. Mostly because I used to be heavier and now that I’m a carry-able weight, I like to be reminded that I’m light and fluffy. Maybe fluffy was the wrong word…. Look, it’s just important, ok?
It makes me feel light and skinny. And when I feel skinny, it’s a good day…for everyone within my 5-mile radius.
Am I missing any Commandments?
Favorite Comment From Last Post: “The fact that phone sex jobs don’t offer health insurance is exactly why we need health care reform in this country. Also, certain styles of panty make excellent eye patches.”—JM Randolph

Peanut Butter Is to Jelly as Hot Chocolate Is to Marshmallows

The weather here pretty much went from blazing hot to chilly. That means it’s time to switch from ice cream to hot chocolate and cookies.

And because normal marshmallows and hot chocolate just aren’t enough for me, I got these:

That’s right. Those are gourmet marshmallows” chocolate and caramel. The caramel ones were super yummy and bordering on too sweet even for me. The white chocolate- and raspberry-flavored hot chocolates were good, too.

I’m happy to report that a new flavor Pop-Tart is in town to celebrate the chill: Hot Chocolate and Marshmallow Pop-Tarts.

Would it be wrong to dip the Pop-Tart in hot chocolate? Cause it sounds so right.

Favorite Comment From Last Post: “So wait . . . you’re telling me that now Keifer allows BOTH animals on/in the bed? Well, it really was just a matter of time. He was outnumbered afterall.”—Misty’s Laws