Putting this on the back Burner

The baking blog is going away for a little bit. I always phase in and out of baking due to my moods and how I’m feeling. Lately, I haven’t really been in a sweets type of mood, I have been focusing on detoxing and working on my body. If you guys didn’t know, I have lost over 85lbs. My sister Blog, 87lbsandcounting.wordpress.com is pretty much where I will be blogging until there is another bake off, or I feel like baking something. Which in retrospect will probably be within a week?

Although, it’s an 80% baking blog, I do blog 20% on this about daily life, and my struggles. We will see where that gets me!  My life has been relatively struggle free. I mean, my boyfriend wants to move across the country and is determined to have me follow him? That’s a dilemma, not a struggle. I just got to Montana; well 3 years ago I haven’t even adjusting to the climate!

So my question to you! If you had the choice to move anywhere, where would you move?

The All American Bake-Off

(updated: recipe can be found https://kristinskupcakes.wordpress.com/yummy-creations/129-2/)

 

Soo…… As most of you don’t know I work at a real job at namenotdisclosed where I am a Sales and Development Representative. My company designs Fru-Fru Genetic Analysis Software. We ARE normal people, and we DO have social lives. Well Sales & Marketing do, the programmers and Bioinformations can speak for themselves.

Our CEO Believes a happy employee is a hardworking employee… Right? I think so. Therefore HR promotes contests within each dept. and companywide. Well, this Friday, it’s “our company” day. In honor of such event we will be getting off work early to go to a BBQ at a nearby park. Within this event we will be holding this “friendly” bake-off.

What? Did you just say bake off? I mean- do they even know what they are up against. First off, and most important. I am the most competitive person on the face of the planet.. Second, I can bake like Paula Dean. So these women don’t even have a chance. I see my biggest competition as HR, she has brought in cookies to die for in work, but I’m still confident with my mommies training I can beat her.

I have the liberty to actually be living with my company’s office manager. She is not only my good friend, but defiantly an adoptive mom. I was secretly spying on her yesterday making her desert. And by spying I mean sitting at the table doing homework while she was baking. Anyways, she made fudge. FUDGE! You don’t even bake fudge…. I mean it is a BAKE-off, not a microwave-off. I can’t hate thou…. I mean it is 11:51am and less than 24hrs from taste testing and I haven’t even planned what I am making. But I can guarantee you that it will taste like a slice of calorie heaven.

This is a sneak peak to my new recipe – Results and Recipe will be posted soon!

Daddy’s Lambo

Let me drive your Daddy’s Lambo…

Alright – It’s not quite a Lambo, but it is a Maserati. What the F*ck is a Maserati? Lezzbe honest, I mean I didn’t even know what it was. According to Mr. Sport Car Extraordinaire, (My Sexy-Male-Best Boyfriend owner of so-called Mazz-er-ah-t) it’s a little sister of a Ferrari. Why– Because my boyfriend has to be original, and he needed to buy something that further fed his already I’m-a-Total-Sexy-Savage Ego and I think it’s the only one in Montana, Hence Originality.  We cannot go two feet in this town without people asking about it, or screaming nice car from there o-so-classy osmoible. Even as I was minding my own business, drawing doodles of Unicorns and rainbows, I looked over and two kids were sharing pictures of HIS car with each other commenting out our late night adventure to PLONK! Wine. Ridiculous.

Now, I can’t sit here in bitch that I get to ride around in the front seat of a Fancy-Smancy sports car on my time off… In matter-of-fact I love it, who wouldn’t? Which brings me to my next point; I cannot stand the woman that Eye-F*ck my boyfriend when he steps out of this car. Isn’t it already enough that he is absolutely gorgeous, but hey, let’s just throw in a Maserati to soup up that sex appeal? And here I am… Poor Innocent girlfriend, dealing with stripper woman rubbing their Barbie Doll Plastic Boobies all over his windshield… Well, that hasn’t happened yet, but in time I’m sure I will see it. I’m not a defensive girlfriend by any means, and I trust my boyfriend to the full amount, but a girl has got to draw the line somewhere right? I can’t have all these plastic Gold digging barbies willing to drop their panties at the chance they may get to fuck sit in the front seat of that car. Bitches He’s mine. – ( Man, I could write a Kanye West song about this…)

Dealing with this on a daily basis has become a routine for me #firstworldproblems. Which bring me to my third point: Slutty Ass Hoes… Let me rephrase this, Slutty ass Model Hoes, Slutty ass Model Gold Digging hoes.  Once upon a time, before my boyfriend and I were together. He was “Talking”… and by talking I mean probably screwing this Sexy-as-Fuck hot blonde Model thing who posed for Maximum. Or whatever that Mag is. Miraculously – he chose me over her. ME! Like 5’5” 150 lb. with brown eyes and brown hair ME, god forbid I am nothing special, but I must have one hell of a personality.

Pretty F*cking Average

Anyways, she contacted Mr. Sports Car Extraordinaire in regards to taking him to big sky and posing her very sexy –  not very clothed body all over his car. How am I Suppose to deal with this one? Black Italian leather-Views of Big Sky in the back ground-and a sexy Blonde half naked spread eagle on his car. I should just kiss my relationship good bye obviously. I can’t compete with perfect, well $15,000 a couple breast implants and liposuction later, I might could. But not even close.

Well. Now that I have completely stated my story. I feel like Barbie and Ken Should live Happily ever after, after all – it’s not Cowgirl & Ken.. They don’t even make a cowgirl barbie…. anyways, I have a love/hate relationship with this car. And this car, will most likely end out relationship..

The Great Escape

OH MY GOD! Is that a mouse?

Yes, it is.

A cute little brown mouse was scurrying across my boyfriend’s bed early Sunday morning. According to him it was the end of the world; I name him Jerry.

He chases it around the house for several hours pinning it in several corners, every time Jerry outsmarts the tom cat. By this time I’m spoon deep in cereal.

Caught in the Corner

After pleading him to capture it and release it, he convinces me the old fashion mouse traps are the way to go.

Drug out of bed entirely too early to make the venture to Ace Hardware to get very inhumane mouse traps: $48.90 later, he is prepared to hunt.

I beg him not to kill Jerry; after all, we did have a bonding moment that morning in bed. According to my boyfriend if, “That mouse chews up my wiring harness in the Maserati…” I suppose since his car could be jeopardy, I am not fully opposed to killing Jerry.

2pm: He lays the traps one by one in high traffic areas; he steps on them frequently- Payback

3pm: Ventures to Murdoch’s to get cowboy boots

4pm: Get harassed by someone who is obviously not impressed with his car with a “Versace Makes boots” comment

6pm: Return home to realize no traps have been tripped

9pm: See Jerry scurry across the floor & up a wall – Time to call dad

10pm: Lace mouse traps with Peanut butter, thanks to dad

11pm: Dead Jerry

Tom hunting Jerry

After I was done screaming bloody murder and yelling at my boyfriend to kill it and not let it suffer. The blood stained tile was too much.

RIP Jerry.