baking for babes

A Delicious Failure

Every week, I bake. I bake because I love it. The warm oven, the KitchenAid, attempting to not eat dough. I bake for my friend’s junior high youth group, I bake for various meetings my mom attends, I bake because sometimes it’s the only way I can think of to show people that they are cared for.
Last week for youth group I decided to try this recipe from Six Sisters, which I stumbled upon via Pinterest. What I got was a glooby mess, so I did what any normal girl woul do. I melted some marshmallows and butter and made cereal bars. They looked delicious, and he junior highers approved. Moms of junior highers; sorry for snacking your kids with marshmallows, cake mix, almond bark and sprinkles.
That’s a lie. I’m not sory at all.


Saving is for suckers. I’m a sucker.

Some scenes from our jaunt.

Every day, I take my dog Scotti on a walk. We don’t go very far, just over a mile, but it’s always a calming time filled with thoughts, smells and territory marking. On today’s walk I was thinking about my finances and my closet. I know that in 2013, I want to make my life that much better.
Let’s face it, I could use a big shakeup.
So, I decided that I wouldn’t be spending anymore money on clothes, shoes, undies and accessories until one of two things happen.
1. I drop 30 pounds.
2.I get a big girl job.
Clearly I won’t be buying any goods for a while. I’ll be gone for three straight weeks in January, so I can’t really apply for big girl jobs. And it takes time to lose 30 pounds. So for the next few months I’ll be trying to creatively pull together outfits from what I already own, try new combos, dare to wear some items that I bought on a whim. And making my resume fantastic, with a killer cover letter to boot.
I figure it’s all a nice step as I continue this Dating Detox a’la Patty Stanger.
Who knew it could be so exhausting to work on growing up?

rabbit, rabbit. October 2012

It’s finally October! It seems like I was just making my list of September goals, the majority which I followed through with. This month, I’m a lady with a plan. I’ve scheduled all my workouts, made sure to make a note of all my social days, and am obsessing over this list of fall To-Dos that’s making the rounds on Pinterest.

The goals this month are simple:
1. Go to boot camp every M/W/F. And since I’m a day late in posting this, the first two classes were fanatically evil.

So far, so good.

My October workout plan.

2.Be able to run 3 miles without stopping.
3. Just say no to soda.
4. Put some actual effort into my appearance, every day. And this hasn’t happened yet. My bad.

I wish I could say that I wrapped up the blue room, but the various piles of things that need to be correctly (and greenly) disposed of is a bit overwhelming. Now to find spots to recycle electronics AND ancient cans of paint. now, tell me that this doesn't look a little overwhelming.

Let’s do this

Ever since megadatedouche told me that I was to weird/not pretty enough for his tastes, I’ve been trying to focus on making me the best Meredith I can be. I started Whole 30, which I love, minus that whole No Booze thing. I’ve been working out daily, training for a half marathon I stupidly signed up for and hashtagging my workouts as #sweatytosexy.
I’m currently rereading Patti Stanger’s “Become Your Own Matchmaker” and decided to slowly take the steps. That means I’m currently on the Dating Detox. Patti says I only need to do it for 30 days, since I’m not coming off a breakup or anything, but I’m doing no boys, no sex, no whatever until the end of the year. So far all I can tell is that I am desperate for some sexy Skyping but I’m trying to focus all my ‘urges’ into workouts and projects.
And who knew that it could be fun to focus on becoming a sexy beast?

What Was The Point Again?

This past week I was trying to figure out what exactly I was aiming for with this blog. Who am I trying to reach? What point am I trying to get across?
I realized that one thing I want to do is prove that Iowa girls can wear fun, fashionable outfits. That a girl doesn’t need access to a Whole Foods and Gold’s Gym to look banging, that there’s good wine made outside of Napa. I need inspiration to actually get out of my house, and maybe even my town on occasion, and DO SOMETHING.
I currently don’t have internet access at my house. Whatever. I’m pretty sure that there are millions of young women my age who don’t have 24/7 access to the Web and they’re getting by. Why not try to write three to four reallyfuckinggood posts a week, instead of seven soso ones?
Eventually, I would love if I could make money from this. Or get an adventure funded. Or maybe just prove to people that I’m not as crazy as they’ve been led to believe.
So here we go, round two. Let’s do this bitches.
Love you, mean it.

Best Friends and Goodbyes



Around twelve years ago, my younger brother Isaac got his fantasy Christmas gift; a one year old Golden Retriever.  Our previous dog had had to be put down due to her trying to eat Isaac’s face off and a family in our homeschool group had come to realize that a giant, energetic ball of fur was too much for their small children to handle.  So our parents took in Biscuit, named after a series of childrens books, about a Golden Retriever puppy named Biscuit.

Biscuit was a fun and occasionally naughty dog.  He was obsessed with tennis balls and could play for hours.  He wasn’t big on being petted, but would run around with my brothers and I and would often accompany us on walks down to the river, where he would swim and swim and shake his drenched fur all over us.

When I went to college, I would ask how Biscuit was, playing with him when I would come home, hoping he and our adopted dog Bingo were doing fine.  When Bingo died, we tried to keep Biscuit even more company, teaching him how to correctly wander the house and let us know when he needed to go outside. 

When I moved home after finding out I was pregnant, Biscuit became my best friend.  There were days where he was the only creature I would speak out loud too.  I trained my ancient dog to sleep in my room, we would go on walks every day that got shorter and shorter as my belly grew and his legs got weaker.  During our intense times together, he finally allowed me to start petting him, a giant step of trust that I cherished.

When I received Scotti in 2011, Biscuit seemed so mad, but eventually learned to just ignore the puppy and go about his business.  I think he was happy about the new routine of giant treats and special presents. 

Since January, Biscuit’s sight disappeared, his eyes going completely blue, his mind slowly going.  A friend prepared a hole, just in case he died in the winter.  Biscuit needed help getting up and the walks shortened to just a trip around the block.  Every visit to the boarders had me writing out a note saying if necessary, to put him down and not inform me until I came home.

In August, after Isaac went back to school, it was decided that it was time.  Biscuit had been one of the best dogs ever, but he was in far too much pain to bear.  One Wednesday at lunchtime, he, my mom and I took one final walk to the vets office after a farewell bowl of Peanut Butter Panic ice cream.  The Doctor and her assistant allowed my mom to sob as they put my best friend into his final sleep.

Do I miss Biscuit?  Of course.  I’m not joking in the slightest when I say he was my best friend.  There truly was three weeks where I only left the house to walk him and didn’t speak out loud to humans.  He would lay beside me while I cried and was always happy to eat my leftovers.  He didn’t warn me when I was about to walk in on a kid who broke into our house, but demanded I comfort him when the cops arrived.

Now Biscuit sits in a pretty little tin, on a shelf by my father.  I’m pretty sure he’s being super demanding about a tennis ball in heaven.

Dear Mommy

Dear mom,
I know you love me. I mean, how could you not? I am an excellent basement dweller, always make dinner and occasionally do laundry. I seriously need Internet and Netflix though. Below I’ll give you (and the world) reasons why.

1. With Netflix I won’t always be fighting with the antenna or decide to watch 6 hours of crime shows because they’re whats playing on the one channel that isn’t fuzzy.
2. I’ll have a better idea of what my peers are talking about when they start discussing current TV programs and stars. This might lead to me actually making friends.
3. I’ll occasionally even choose to watch a documentary, thus making me smarter.
4. Without Internet, there’s really no need for Netflix.
5. Imagine all the new recipes I could find.
6. I could constantly be on the look out for big girl jobs!
7. And when not looking for and applying to big girl jobs, I could be doing fantastic projects, revamping our (your) home and maybe even open up a little shop.
8. I could blog about these projects, the recipes, what I’m watching and maybe the blog would become famous and I could make some money.
9. Or the fame could lead to a reality show/book deal. You know that we are way cooler than Kris and Kim. Epic showdown?
10. I could become the best Internet dater ever! Find a rich husband who wants to pay my bills and yours and then you’d finally have that empty nest.

So let’s do it. I did the math, don’t you love me?

Love you, mean it.