BFF

Tomorrow is my very best friends 25th birthday. Twenty-Five. I'm aware that 25 is not at all anything close to old. 25 is nothing but the start of real life. The life we ached for at a younger age. Real money, real school, real jobs, real LIFE. But the best part, by 25 you have figured out who your real friends are. You know who you can call at 3 o'clock in the morning, just to say your having some sort of hormonal fit, and you know you're being crazy and unreasonable. and the person on the other end is supposed to convince you that they in fact, were not sleeping, but waiting on your call, and that you're not crazy and that everything will be okay, and if its not okay, you will bury whoever it is that has caused this outrage in your backyard. Best friends honor.

We have been through it all. Heartaches galore. A few really bad ones. Gut wrenching, horrible, soul crushing heart aches. She felt my pain, and I felt hers.. all the way down to our cores. And we were there to cry into each others shoulder as we slurped up tears and sniffed our runny noses. And when our faces were all red and wet and our eyes swollen, we reminded each other that we were beautiful and worth so much more then that stupid boy who doesn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.

We were there for each other, when we found the right one too. We were there for each other, calming nerves on first dates... assuring each other we aren't hallucinating. "Lauren, I really love him, He's the one".... "Good, because I love him too." Music to my ears. Nothing is better then your best friends approval.

All of a sudden everything changed. When I called Lauren to tell her how God awful Ryan was, because he forgot to take out the garbage or fold a load of laundry. She stopped taking MY side. "Awe ya, guys are forgetful sometimes.. but he loves you Ang, go give him a big kiss and make up with him!' But, but, but!!! She was supposed to be on MY side. "ughhh... Lauren, you don't get it! He's an ASS!"... She had to understand. "Ok, maybe so.. But Ang, He loves you so much. Go give him that kiss!"... Ummmm what? "Wait, but.. Lauren, you have to understand me!!!!" and the response I got? "I understand that your a sensitive maniac. Now go make nice!" Geezz.. She didn't have to be so.... right! That's the hard part about having a best friend. She sees right through all the bull, yanks you by your ears, and tells you to stop being a spastic reject. Wanna know why? Because I am a spastic reject, but she loves me anyway.

Loves me anyway. Loves me even though I did that one thing, that one time, that was just not cool. And because I said that one thing, that was just so uncalled for. And because I made that one mistake, that shouldn't have been made. And because I talked to that one guy, that just shouldn't even have been mentioned to begin with, and because I have weird habits.. like touching backyard cactuses, or well.... I wont even go there. Just know that that thing is weird, crazy, and shouldn't be mentioned. End of story.

Our 5 am trips to McDonalds after partying all night. Attack of the seagull. Monthly ice-cream beach dates. Caramel Machiatos. Wisdom teeth. Birthday parties. Moving. "Who broke that table and didnt pick up that glass?" Totaling cars. Sneaking out. Sneaking in. Sneaking way too much of everything. Did that really happen or was I dreaming? Trips to Gainesville. Boston. Palm Island. Starbucks.Sandwich castles. Food in general. Hot tubs. Vomit.Club Malibu. Club Sunfire. Black. On the inside. Gangsta rap made me do it. Falling into holes. Spring break. Fire house Club on a Sub. "I'm rich, My daddy's a lawyer!!!" .. Ok, I'm done. I'm crying, and laughing, and wiping snot on my sleeve.

Happy Birthday, Ms. Lauren Marie. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for putting up with me. Thank you for loving me when you didn't want to. Thank you for being beautiful. Thank you for being you. May your 25th year bring too much happiness and too many laugh until we ache moments. I love you. My Sistah.

BBQ Chicken Pizza

I forgot to take something out for dinner tonight. All my meat was frozen. What’s a girl to do???

Detour to the grocery store and figure out something quick style for my ever so hungry husband to consume So that he’s happy and loves me again, thats what!!

So.... what’s a girl to make?

BBQ Chicken Pizza

I started by cooking up some chicken in olive oil and minced garlic. Just to add a little flavor, because lets face it... plain cooked chicken tastes... boring.

Once the chicken cooled, I used a knife and fork to shred it all up in yummy little chunks of boring chicken.

...cooked up some sliced red onion..

Laid out some pizza dough. Slathered it with BBQ Sauce. I like Jack Daniels brand in brown sugar. I think it has the perfect sweetness to it. Try it! After spreading the BBQ sauce, I sprinkled just a little bit of Mozzarella cheese. Just enough to make the toppings stick real good.

Sprinkled on the shredded chicken and onion...

Then piled on the cheese! This is my favorite part... Shredded mozzarella and smoked Gouda. Seriously? Doesn’t that sound illegal? A little bit of chopped cilantro finished off this masterpiece.

And voila! Baked for 13 minutes at 475 degrees... and we have ourselves an amazing, bubbly, BBQ chicken pizza.

Make it for dinner tonight.

Trust me.

You will be glad you did.

2 months, 7 days, and 1 hour from right now.

Time is a funny thing.

One minute, time is racing and you find yourself stressing over every passing second that drifts by, and the next... youre sitting, waiting, inhaling deeply as you wait for another minute to pass.

Today is one of the "wait" days. The clock is going backwards. No really. Backwards

So, as I wait, my mind slips back to those times when time was racing. Like a year ago. A year ago from this very moment, I was 2 months, 7 days, and 1 hour away from marrying Ryan. My life was consumed with dress fittings, wedding showers, thank you note writing, invitation fonts, perfect bow tying, perfect skin regimen, working, and living a normal life all at the same time. Or..well, trying to. Wedding planning. You would think that after planning my amazing, gorgeous wedding in 6 months, I would never in a million years want anything to do with a wedding ever again. But, nope... I'm obsessed. Once wedding planning touched my soul, it was here to stay. I am itching for a friend to get engaged and set a date. So I can then obsess over their wedding ideas, colors, schemes, and God only know what else I will find myself consumed with. I think wedding bells are in my blood.

I remember walking down the aisle very vividly. The wind was blowing just a little bit, and daddy and I had our arms interlocked.. I smiled watching my bridesmaids walk down the aisle from afar, and then.. it was my turn. The music changed, and my stomach did a few flips. All of a sudden, I was walking down a white aisle with every person who has ever meant anything to me watching my every move. And at the end of that aisle? My fiancé. Never in all my life, have I ever seen something or someone so amazingly beautiful. He stood there, full of confidence and a perfect serious smile. This was it. This was the moment I had been dreaming, and planning, and creating in my head since I knew what a wedding was. For all those times I decided to be a cynical teenager hurt by stupid boys, and vowed I would never get married. For all the times I thought that maybe being a married woman wasn't for me. This was it. I was about to turn my whole life over, and become one with this Man. This Man who stole my heart without asking for my permission. I never had the chance to say no. What started as a text message became this. A MARRIAGE. And life as I knew it would never be the same. And you know what? I'm okay with that. Because it was the best decision I have ever made. Umm.. well, He made. He swooped in and saved me from myself. He changed every single aspect of my life. For the better.

I don't know how it happened. I don't know if its the way his face crinkles up and his eyes get bigger when he thinks something is really funny, or how mad he gets when I'm right and he's not. Or, maybe it was the way my heart would feel funny when he looked at me, or how I felt completely safe when I'm wrapped in his arms.

 I do know one thing.

I am the happiest I have ever been in all my life, thanks to the man I married....

 

Cactus

Hello. My name is Angela. And when I was about 4 or 5, I had a cactus fetish. No, you don't have to adjust your eyes or play with you screen settings. I, Angela, had a cactus fetish. Call me weird, call me crazy, call me a freak... but I am what I am, and that's all that I am, and that's something you will never be. (Ha! Some self taught confidence for ya...)




So, yes. Cactus.



We had a huge walnut tree in my parents backyard. It would drop walnuts all over the place, so before dad would mow the lawn.. I had to run around collecting walnuts so they wouldn't get stuck in the lawnmower. One day, I had just finished my walnut duty.... and something caught my eye. On the back porch, sitting so perfectly, was a cactus. A cute, perfectly round cactus plant with lots of little needles and a few pink flowers. So intrigued, I reached out and grabbed the cactus. I wrapped my entire little hand around this ball of pointy needles.. and then freaked out, because IT STUNG! Sooo bad! I tingled in pain. I remember sitting on my poor, throbbing hand to make the sting stop.



Most people would have learned their lesson. But, not I. Oh no, Not me. The cactus and I now had a special relationship.



I can not even begin to count the number of time I touched that cactus. It became a weird OCD thing, where as long as I was alone, and the cactus was staring at me.. I was going to touch it. And not with one finger. But my WHOLE palm. I would GRAB this dang cactus. And not let go until it hurt. And I never told a single soul about it.



We ended up moving from the house with the cactus, and I don't think the cactus came with us. I quickly forgot about my weird obsession. Until... about 15 years later. Sitting at my best friends house, while chatting in her back porch.... There sat a pretty round cactus in the middle of the patio table.Staring at me. Glaring at me. Begging me to touch it. I didn't touch it. Apparently my willpower had strengthened over the years. I instead decided to tell my best friend about my weird cactus days, and she has made fun of me ever since.



I had to confess this. I feel better now. I have let the whole world know about my cactus fetish. And I am a better person because of it.



True Story. (Sadly..)

Cookie dough and cupcakes?

Every once in awhile, I create something so amazing yummy.. its hard for me to believe that I created it! I take a bite, oh and awww.. and then open my eyes, and think to myself, "I made this. I MADE THIS! And its good. Ohhhh its so good! high 5 for being awesome!" Its one thing to follow a recipe and it turns out just like the pictures, and tastes just as good as you imagined it would. But, when you get an idea.. and stick it all together, and it turns out to be better then you could have ever imagined.. THAT is a wonderful feeling of accomplishment. And when everyone tastes your labour of love, and they let out the same ohhhs and awwws....

Words cannot even describe the satisfaction I feel.

This happened this weekend. Ryan and I had an afternoon "date" planned to hangout with the Doyals. (Ill have to devote a whole post about the Doyals one day soon... ya, they’re that amazing!) I knew I wanted to bring over some kinda of baked something of other, that would please everyone. So... what’s better then cupcakes? Cookie dough? Well... what about a cupcake filled with cookie dough? Ohhh what about chocolate whipped butter cream frosting? And all that topped with a super moist mini chocolate chip cookie?? Jackpot, baby!

This, folks... is the most amazing cupcake I have ever created. And you know what I realized?

It’s the first cupcake I have ever created.

And I’m so proud of it, I’m not posting the recipe.

I’m just bragging right now.

Lots of amazing buttery cupcakes, filled with chocolate chip cookie dough, topped with luscious whipped chocolate butter cream. and a cookie. A fresh, soft, tiny chocolate chip cookie.

Perfect?
Closest thing to it.

Mmmmmmm.......

Satisfaction!

Hey Ya'll!!!!

Ever been so Savannah, Georgia?

No?

Go. Now. Run upstairs. Pack a bag or 5. Fill the gas tank. and GO. Because its that amazing, and everyone should experiance the true southern hospitality that gushes from the pores of this fabulous small town. Its rich in history, food, shoppes, pubs, and the nicest people on this side of the Mississippi. And its romantic, really romantic. Walking through the breezy streets, holding hands and enjoying the huge oak trees that are hundreds of years old. Ya, I was in heaven.

And guess what else is there?

Paula.

Paula Deen.

I feel like Paula and I are on a first name basis these days.

What youre seeing here in her Lady and Sons hot spot. So hot, that we had to GO to the place just to stick our names on a list, so we would have a spot to eat lunch. At 9am. nuts.

What we have here folks is a place setting. Complete with a Doily placemat. Have you ever, in all your life, seen anything so darn cute and folky? Love it!

Cheeder biscut and fried corn fritter with maple syrup

Chicken Pot pie

Pulled Pork Sandwich.

So how was it? Well, It was...... fried. Im huge on seasoning and taste. I like saying "wow!" after trying something suburb. Paula Deens was not what I was expecting. For the amount of fried, it lacked the WOW I enjoy. Much of the meal, left me rubbing my napkin over my mouth repeatively because I felt well..... greasy. It was OKAY. But, not what I was so excited for.

 Sorry Paula.

We also got a side of Mac and Cheese, because everyone raves about how wonderful it is. Well, I am VERY happy to report that after my husband took a few bites, he looked at me and the words "I like your mac and cheese better" floated from his lips. I asked him to repeat himself, and I felt as if I was dreaming. He likes my mac and cheese better then Paula Deens.

I can now die a happy woman.

Now I will leave you with this:

Come on Paula. We all know youre not that skinny!

Put some south in your mouth!

Alive

Hi! Hi! Hi!

I am done. I am healed! And I NEVER want to go through anything even close to that painful EVER again.

Tomorrow will be exactly 4 weeks from my surgery. 4 weeks of drooling, crying, whining, starving, and painkillers. Ohhhh how I loved the painkillers. I surely wouldn't have survived without them, and I am happy to report that I am now down to 3 Advil before bed every night, and that's it! I can eat just about everything again, and taste is slowly getting back to normal.

So... how bad was it? BAD. Worst thing ever. I went 9 days without an ounce of food. Icechips were the name of my game, and at times I couldn't even fit a spoon in my mouth. A BABY spoon. I woke up every 3.5 hours like clock work, ran high fevers while shivering, and cried. Ohhh the amount of painful tears I shed! Ryan's immune system decided to shut down 3 days after my surgery with a yucky cold (the worst days were day 3 through 10) and although he did try as hard as he could to be there for me, Thank God for my mother. My mother is a saint. That's all I can say. That woman was amazing. She took care of me, cried with me, drove me to the doctor, washed my clothes, reminded me I needed to shower (Hey, I was out of it!), begged me to eat and drink, tucked me into bed every night, and even remembered when I always took my last dose of painkillers. She didn't get mad when she made me food, only for me to stare at it and cry in frustration because I knew I wouldn't be able to put it in my mouth. She didn't get mad when I used every single tissue in her house to spit into. She didn't even get mad when I puked in her cute garbage can instead of trying to make it to the toilet. Nope, she just dealt with my patheticness, and did it with a smile (forced at times) and a big 'ole hug when I needed it the most. Ryan and I were so lucky to have her there for us! Thanks mom! Thanks for the good work. We will show our ridiculous amount of appreciation on Mothers day. Promise.

I do have to also mention, that I have a pretty awesome family, and so many good friends. You all know who you are. The ones who truly, honestly cared. The ones who realized this wasn't going to be easy, or came by to visit and bring me pudding/ice-cream/etc, and sent me words of encouragement everyday, or flowers to brighten my afternoons, or phoned my mom and husband to make sure I was doin alright. The truth is, I wasn't doin alright.. but thanks for checking in anyway! I'm fine now, and just feel so blessed to have that over with. The road to recovery was long, hard, and bumpy.

Was it worth it? Ill let you know

Anyway, I have 3 different baking endeavors to blog about. I was waiting until I was back on my feet, and back to my normal spunky (funky?) self. My husband put his foot up my behind last night, taunting me about NOT blogging. So.... to prove him wrong (Ohhh I love doing that!) I'm back!

And those 21 pounds I lost during my recovery?

Oh ya, baby. They wanna come back too.

They missed you.