It started somewhat innocently. I was thinking about one of those articles that tells you what to wear, or what exercises to do based on your body type. I’m used to seeing apple, pear, and sometimes chili pepper as the options in these types of article…
In an open letter to the man with the Morris Day hair,
“I couldn’t help myself. Your hair caught my eye early this morning. I didn’t want to be all obvious about getting a closer look. I’m afraid that this made me behave in a creepy fashion, inching my car slowly forward and looking at you not by turning my head, but by sliding my eyes over […]
In an open letter to the college boys who looked like they were going to jump into my cleavage,
“I admit it was windy and I bet it looked warm in there, but hungry looks like those are why I wear scarves in an attempt to hide my bosom. Also, boys, I am no cougar.”
In an open letter to the college boys who looked like they were going to jump into my cleavage,
“I admit it was windy and I bet it looked warm in there, but hungry looks like those are why I wear scarves in an attempt to hide my bosom. Also, boys, I am no cougar.”
Strawberry Donuts
When I saw the cover of the April Saveur, I knew I was in trouble. On the cover were these cute, yet seductive donuts. This cover is the reason that I now subscribe to the downloadable version of the magazine. I have no business baking donuts right now. None whatsoever. Seriously, when you’re baking cupcakes all… Continue reading Strawberry Donuts
In an open letter to the four legs I saw this morning,
“Young ladies, if you are going to wear panty-length shorts before us Michiganders are accustomed to seasonal nudity, I suggest you stick to sidewalks instead of walking precariously on the edge of the road. Be safe!”
In an open letter to parenthood,
“I would very much like to blame you for the string cheese wrapper I found in my pocket, but you and I both know that would be a lie….”
Rhubarb Soda
I read enough food magazines to know that when rhubarb is either featured or mentioned on the cover, that the season change is near. I didn’t grow up eating rhubarb; it just wasn’t something that we did. However, I do remember seeing it in the produce section of the grocery store as a child and… Continue reading Rhubarb Soda
In an open letter to her son,
“Sweetie, I figured out what you remind me of when you’re dancing. A chicken. You tuck your hands in, and then begin to flap. Then you start this pecking motion with your head. Now what you’re doing with the rest of your body, I don’t have that part figured out yet….”
In an open letter to the Internet gods,
“Thank you for not letting me break my websites. I am very grateful. So grateful, in fact, that I am going to stop while I’m ahead.”