Bloor West

For the past few days I've been escaping living with my parents by seeking refuge at my cousin's place near Bloor West.

So here we've been living the good life... eating and drinking... looking at my cousin's new clothes and talking about boys.

She's shown me the gifts she bought her boyfriend including something she calls "Lifetime Shoes" Frankly, I don't consider myself a girl that's afraid of commitment. However, this idea of shoes for life makes me a little skittish.

I've introduced her to the idea of Strong Bad and the other characters at Home Star Runner and she's introduced me a few new Arabic words and the reflex of shouting "GET THE POPCORN! BUSH IS ON TV!" She takes to watching George W. like most teenage boys take to watching a National Lampoon serial.

She's hot.
She's taken.
She's 25.

She fat... with a ppppppp hhhhhhhhhh

over and out for another day.

Aftermath

Thanksgiving is done!
Parents are still here BUT the boyfriend is back.

I've been linked... when I figure out how to add links I will reciprocate the courtesy promptly.

I know you're all intrigued about the details of my totally awesome super cool boyfriend. Well, now that I think about it, if you're reading this you're probably a friend of mine and you're probably sick of hearing about my totally awesome super cool boyfriend...

Until next time I will tell you this.

He hates cilantro... LIKE ME!

End of the Day

I just thought that there might actually be someone looking at this blog and thinking "My Goodness! What a compelling life this young woman leads! But, I don't really understand the title to her blog... "

Luckily enough... I'm going to tell you!

Karma and Shwarma. One is a commentary on my partial ethnicity and the other is apart of my favorite story.
The story is as follows:

Once upon a time my mother and I had a small challenge of locating a pudding cake recipe that would work. We tried and we tried but nothing would yield that delicious little cake that makes its own fudge sauce on the bottom.

So we gave up.

Then a few months later, during a short haul flight on vacation, my mother (the sainted woman that she is) was the victim of, what I am convinced was, an issue of Cosmic Crossed Wires. What I mean is, the bad karma intended for another individual accidentally was applied to my mother. However, by the time officials realized that they had the wrong woman it was too late... my mother had missed her flight.

Kindly enough, the attendants booked her on another flight and she was well on her way! But, not before discovering a small folded paper lying in the walkway on the airplane. My mother, being the kind woman she is, picked it up to throw it out for the stewards, but, not before curiousity prompted her to unfold the paper and read the contents...

A recipe for pudding cake.

The best darned pudding cake you will ever eat!

So I call it karma cake because the heavens realized that they made an error targetting my mother and in apology they delivered my mother the one thing we were looking for!

Also, I like to tell my friends, when I'm too tired to explain the pudding cake story, that it's called karma cake because if you have good karma you will be rewarded with fudge sauce on the bottom or, alternatively, if you have bad karma it won't.

Here is the recipe if you want to try your luck. Make sure you have plenty of milk on hand!

KARMA CAKE!

3/4 cup white sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup cocoa powder
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup milk
1/3 cup butter, melted
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup cocoa powder
1 1/4 cups boiling water
DIRECTIONS:
Heat oven to 350 F. Combine 3/4 cup granulated sugar, flour, 1/4 cup cocoa, baking powder and salt. Stir in milk, butter and vanilla; beat until smooth.
Pour batter into ungreased 9-inch square baking pan. Stir together remaining 1/2 cup granulated sugar, brown sugar and remaining 1/4 cup cocoa; sprinkle mixture evenly over batter. Pour hot water over top; do not stir.
Bake 35 to 40 minutes or until center is almost set. Remove from oven; let stand 15 minutes. Serve in dessert dishes, spooning sauce from bottom of pan over top.
Garnish with whipped cream, if desired.

For extra good karma invite your friends and neighbours over to indulge in the Karma Cake!

Thanksgiving

The older I get the more I realize I'm becoming an increasingly private person.
There's no appeal for privacy in a small condominium packed with 10 adults and 2 very young children. 6 hours into a day filled with family and I think I'm moments away from claiming family induced insanity.

I've learned so many valuable lessons:
1. Children over the age of 18 should not be living with their parents.
2. I am never going to have kids.
3. Don't pack 10 adults and 2 children in a 1000 sq. ft. space.
4. Don't try to cook for 10 adults and 2 children in a 1000 sq. ft. space.
5. Monica Lewinski was a plant by the Republicans to ruin the Democrats. (Thanks Conspiricy Theory Dad.)
6. Be aware that if you're dating a cute young chef the news travels quickly and someone will bring it up as a topic of conversation at dinner.
7. Baby Einstein videos are propaganda for baby toys.
8. Alcohol makes parental visits tolerable.

Good news! My sister announced she is pregnant again! Antie Mingy for the third time!

1.

Do I know how to be profound?
No.

I'm a 20 something year old girl on a search for the single life altering event that will guide me towards infamy.

I haven't found it being an actress, an opera singer, an academic, a cook, an artist, a beauty queen, a teacher, a tarot reader or even an administrator. But, somehow I know that I might just obtain infamy by...
just being me.

Maybe this blog is the start of that... Bad grammar and all.

My ability to be witty is pretty thin as is my ability to read instructions well. This is the second time that I've written this blog because I deleted it the first time.

Am I the unwilling drama queen?
*sigh* yes.

Stuff Like This Just Happens To Me!

Waiting to participate in an performance art piece as a part of an upcoming art festival. My cousin and I are approached with the undesirable task: While standing on a corner in busy downtown Toronto engage strangers with a large theatrical pink umbrella in one hand and a large piece of chalk in the other.

Feeling uncomfortable we leave, heading North towards Queen where we are stopped mid journey to climb into a rickshaw to be ferried over to My Apartment where they are offering drinks at cost.

So we go, and enjoy two dollar martinis and the licivious stares of men well lubricated with beers and tequila. We leave.

Arriving on Queen we head for Café Crêpe where my adorable boyfriend works. I see him, we say "Hi" my cousin and I leave for home.

Where my parents and my sister are.

The day doesn't seem so weird now.
I still don't know how to spell.