Girly Woes Part Deux

Bulletproof by Mutemath
Save My Soul by Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
Midnight On The Interstate (Live) by Trample By Turtles



Since I had so much fun writing my Girly Woes post back in April, I'm back for another round! Maybe this will become a regular series...or maybe not...I don't exactly have the best tract record of posting new blog posts lately.

Anywho's its...

Bras:

Boys, look away. Actually you know what? Don't. You should know what kind of suffering we go through with these instruments of torture.

I hate bra shopping. Hate, despise, loathe, and abhor it. I don't care what size you are finding a decent, comfortable, reasonably price bra is going to be about as successful as trying to find the lost city of El Dorado. For example, I'm a plus size girl, but I have a not so plus sized bust. So while I need a little bit bigger band, my actual cup size isn't that big. Needle in a hay stack much?

And if I do happen to find one that fits okay, several things always conspire against me:

1. The straps refuse to stay up, AND ALWAYS FALL DOWN AT THE WORST POSSIBLE TIME. Like the middle of a church service for example. I'm so sure that the thing my pastor wants to see while looking across the sanctuary is me yanking my flipping bra straps back into place.
2. There's no padding, which results in me looking like it's a frigid day in January but it's still August (if you catch my drift.). Headlights, ahoy.
3. So much padding that the bra firmly lodges the girls under my chin, thereby spilling any secret Victoria ever had.
4. Cups that don't stay in place which results in a dreaded phenomena called the "Under Boob". My cups then don't so much runneth over, but spilleth out the bottom.
5. Underwires. They're a necessary evil because my ladies need the support, but much like straps, these little instruments of evil like to give up the ghost at the most inopportune times. Like right after lunch when I have no chance of running home to change. So I'm stuck for the rest of my workday with a dagger digging into my poor, defenseless girl.
6. The bra fits perfectly, there's just the right amount of padding, no under boob, straps are actually stay put, but...BUT it's hot pink, polka dotted and/or covered in what looks like a solid inch of lace thereby insuring that there's no chance I can ever wear it under anything but the bulkiest of sweaters.
7. The bra has all the perfect components, is a nice neutral color, with minimal to no lace, but when I take a look at the price tag I'm all "Hell's bells, no!" because it's $69.99 (and don't give me that "you get what you pay for" crap because nothing with so little fabric should cost me that much. I refuse to pay that much for a decent pair of running shoes.)

So guys (if I haven't scared you off already), is it any wonder that as soon we get home for the evening, we're whipping off our double barrel sling shots as fast as we can?

Dearest Decent Brassieres, 

If you don't stop hiding out like a long lost city gold, I may have to pull out my inner 70's feminist and burn the lot of you.

P.S. I can only speak from my experience with my own small to medium girls. I know you ladies who are more generously endowed have a whole different set of woes. You have all my sympathy and love.


Cat's Eye Eyeliner:

I want cat's eye liner on my eyelids so bad, but I utterly suck at it. No seriously, I do.

I've tried ever so many techniques, liquid and stick liners, and Youtube videos, but it never helps. I always end up with the same results. I wind up looking like Hatchet Face from Cry Baby.

 (Preach, girl!)

Dear Cat's Eye, 

Why must you hate me so much when all I want to do is love you?

British Accents:

I love British accents. Like as much as I hate bra shopping on the opposite end of the spectrum lies my love of British accents. Be it Scotch, English, Irish, or Welsh, I don't care. I adore them all.

As my roommie and I have discussed in detail, if you're a guy and you have a British accent, you're automatically 65% more attractive then any other dude on the planet (you're 50% more attractive if you have a Kiwi or Australian accent, FYI). You could be giving me the stock market report or a mathematical dissertation, and I would sit there with my hands clasped under my chin making doe eyes at you. Now I know you must be saying "Manda? Really? C'mon."

Yes, really, and to support my theory, here's my favorite Brit talking to us about Einstein's Theory of Relativity, a little geometry, and a dash of Pi. Have a listen, and see if you don't just swoon a bit.

See? See?! SEEEEEEEE????!!! I may have enjoyed math in school more if I had it explained to me like that...or I would have been too distracted by that face, and still have done poorly...

Need some more proof of British attractiveness?? *throws confetti and plies you with pics of attractive Brits*

(Ben, you're officially off the market so I'll just admire

you from afar...but in a totally non-creepy way.)

(Funny and Irish? Um, yes please!)

(Colin, you'll always be my Mr. Darcy...)

(Tom Burke, everyone. Have you seen him as Athos on The Musketeers?!

 Oh. My. Giddy. Aunt.)

(Out of possible 10 out of 10, I give David an 11...see what I did there? 

Huh? Huh? Oh, the Whovian puns!)

(Idris...just...whoa...and have you heard his rumbling raspy voice? 

No. Words.)

(Don't worry Richard, I'll be your Margaret Hale any day...)

(Robert Carlyle, you are one seriously attractive Scottish Silver Fox, but you are very happily married so I would never try to break that up.)

(I feel a wee bit cougarish even putting John on here since I'm a good

11+ years older than him, but just look at him!)

(My sweet Tom...just  waiting for you to decide that Taylor 

is the wrong Yank for you...)

Okay, now that I've proven myself, you may be saying "So what'S the girly woe here? All I'm seeing is a crazy woman fangirling over some dudes." 

Well dear reader, I'm so glad you asked. The woe here is that I live on the frick frackin' wrong side of the Pond, and have zero access to such lovely manliness!!!!

Dear British men, 

Northwest Montana is lovely this time of year. How about spending your holidays here and letting me win your hearts with baked goods?

And this conclude my second round of Girly Woes. If any of you ladies have some suggestions that I should cover in my possible next edition of Girly Woes, hit me up in the comments! I would love to hear from you!

 (What??? How did that get there? Whoopsy, my finger must of slipped.)

Overcome Evil with Good

I know most of my posts don't really deal with current events, but after this weekend's horrific tragedy in Orlando, I can't help but write something.

My heart is breaking for those 50 men and women who lost their lives.

My heart is bruised for those 53 people who were injured and are now having to deal with aftershocks of being attacked.

My heart is crushed for those families who will never see their loved ones again.

My heart is weeping for the family who's son took his own life.

My heart is aching for that man who was so blinded by hate and misguided beliefs that he decided to snuff out both the lives of 50 people and his own.

I know some of you are saying things right now like "How can you hurt for a wicked man like that? We shouldn't be hurting for him! We should be hunting down and destroying everyone like him!"

We start pointing fingers, "It's ISIS's fault. It's the anti-gun control groups fault! It's the gun lovers fault! It's all the Muslim immigrants fault!"

And on and on it goes. As soon as there's a tragedy like this we jump on our political band wagons and start screaming at each that it's the Political Right's/Left's fault this happened.

But we ignore the hurting. We ignore the people who are literally bleeding out in front of us.

How dare we.

There's a time and place to discuss and fix our problems, but not now.

Now is the time to tend to the wounded, to weep with the hurting, and love the unlovable.

You wouldn't scream at a wounded soldier "You know if you had just avoided that sniper, you wouldn't have a blown out shoulder right now! You should have ducked! This is why you need to take proper evasive measures!!"

You would do whatever you could to get stop their bleeding, and get them ready for surgery. You would see to their immediate needs first and foremost.

Don't think for a second that I don't believe that we shouldn't seek justice for people who were killed or injured. We absolutely need to pursue justice for them, but it shouldn't come at the price of persecuting a particular people group.

Over generalization of certain population group is an extremely slippery slope, and can quickly turn into something as evil as the atrocity that happened in Orlando.

I was reading a friend's Facebook post she had shared regarding something along these lines, and someone couldn't help commenting "Doesn't God tell us to hate evil? You can't tell me I have to love the people who are trying to destroy Western Civilization! I won't do it!"

Well, angry Facebook troll whom I'm assuming identifies as a Christian, you're only partly right. God does tell us to hate evil, but I think you're forgetting the rest of that verse.

"Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil. Cling to what is good." Romans 12:9 (NIV)

Here's the same verse in the New Living Version which I like even better:
"Be sure your love is true love. Hate what is sinful. Hold on to whatever is good." - Romans 12:9 
(NLV)

We can hate the evil deed that that man carried out in Orlando, but we cannot hate the man himself, because that would be evil too.

Why?

Because Christ says in Matthew 5:21 that to hate someone is to commit murder. Guess what? Murder is a sin. So that makes hating another person a sin too. Sin is evil, and we are to hate it. Understand where I'm going?

The second part of that verse says to hold on what is good, and what is good?

Well friends, not only is it one of the Fruits of the Spirits, but something that all Christ followers should be exhibiting (see Galations 6:10) along with love.

Are we doing that? Am I doing that? Am I doing what is good? Am I loving all people?

God doesn't let us pick and choose who we get to love, who we can show goodness to. We don't get to love just the people who we like. We don't get to just love those people who have our same beliefs. We don't get to love those who think like us. We don't get to help just the people we think are worth it.

In fact, Christ goes even farther and tell us to:

"But I tell you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you." Matthew 5:44

Love your enemies...

Whoa.

We have to remember that the majority of Muslims are not our enemy, and hate ISIS and terror cells like them just as much as we do. After all ISIS and the like are going after them much more than they are us.

Do I think that we need to do something about ISIS? Absolutely.

But remember, even though we consider ISIS our enemy, we still have to love the people who are part of it.

 We can't forget that the people in these terror cells are still people, and Christ loves them just as much as He does you or I.

Don't forget that these people are carrying out their terror because they are being deceived by the Master and Father of all lies.

And what does God want to do to deceived people? He wants set them free. After all He set you and I free, and in His eyes our sins are no different than theirs.

How can we do anything, but want the same?

Remember.

Now is the time to come alongside the hurting and doing what we can to help them. Offer a hug, and a shoulder to cry on. Pray with them. Love them unconditionally, no matter their beliefs or ethnicity or religion, because that's Christ does.

Remember.

Now is the time to hate the evil that was committed, but to love the lost soul that committed it.

Remember.

Now is the time to cling to what is good.

Mocha Brownies

Music: River by Bishop Briggs
           No Excuses by Needtobreathe
           Implicit Demand For Proof by Twenty One Pilots
           

Coffee and Chocolate.

Was there ever a more perfect flavor combination?

All right, all right, I can hear you saying "But Amanda! What about cheese and bacon or white chocolate and peppermint or chips and salsa or blah blah blah??"

Okay, so maybe not THE perfect combination, but certainly one of the top 10.

It's certainly in my top 5 flavor combinations. So of course I had to create a brownie with a heavy dose of coffee.

You take a coffee infused brownie base, add a rich, decadent coffee cream cheese filling, top that with a thick layer of pure chocolate, and finish it all off with a delicate swirl of white chocolate.

Sounds good?

Because they are. 

These little mocha gems are totally my jam.

And since my mama raised my to share, I couldn't keep these all to myself. So I'm sharing them with you guys!

(And if you don't like coffee? Well, first off, what in the heck is wrong with you?! And second, these are probably not the brownies for you... Sorry, because these bad boys are coffee-rific.)

Now, let's get down to business (To defeat the Huns! No, no, it's mocha time, not Mulan time. Get it straight.)

Recipe ahoy!

Mocha Brownies

Brownie Base:
1 2/3 c. granulated sugar
3/4 c. butter, melted
3 T. cold espresso or very strong, cold coffee
1 tsp. vanilla
2 eggs
1 1/3 c. all purpose flour
3/4 c. cocoa powder
1T. finely ground coffee
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt

Filling:
1 8oz pkg. cream cheese, softened
1/4 c. butter, softened
2 c. powdered sugar, sifted
2 T. cold espresso or very strong, cold coffee
2 T. whipping cream
1 tsp. finely ground coffee

Topping:
1/2 c. bittersweet chocolate chips
1/2 c. milk chocolate chips
1 T. shortening

Garnish:
1/4 c. white chocolate chips
1 tsp, shortening


For Brownies:
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix together sugar, butter, coffee, and vanilla. Whisk in eggs until well combined. Sift together flour, cocoa powder, ground coffee, baking powder, and salt. Stir into egg mixture. Spread batter into a lightly greased 13 x 9 pan. Bake 18-23 minutes or until toothpick inserted into center comes out clean. Just be sure not to over bake because no one likes an over cooked brownie.
Cool brownies completely.

For Filling:
Beat together cream cheese and butter until fluffy. Turn mixer to low and gradually mix in powdered sugar until combined. Add in whipping cream, coffee, and ground coffee. Turn mixer to medium, and beat mixture for 1-2 minutes until light and fluffy. Spread filling evenly onto brownies.

For Topping:
In a microwave safe bowl, mix together chocolate chips and shortening. Melt chocolate mixture on low in microwave at 30 second intervals making sure to stir mixture thoroughly after each interval. Heat chocolate until completely melted. Spread onto filling. Immediately start garnish.

For Garnish:
Follow steps for topping and melt the white chocolate chips and shorting. Pour melted white chocolate into pipping bag equipped with a small round tip. Pipe evenly spaced rows onto the still warm topping. Working quickly, take a toothpick and run it through the topping and the garnish in the opposite direction as you piped the garnish. Do this in evenly spaced intervals.

Let chocolate topping and garnish cool and harden completely before cutting into 24 squares.

There you have it! A pan full of coffee and chocolatey goodness. These go best with a tall glass of milk, or to gild the lily even farther, enjoy them with a cup of your favorite coffee. Because what could go better with chocolate and coffee, but more coffee?

Girly Woes: Part One

Music: Psychosocial by Brooke Fraser
            Wild Horses by Bishop
            Friday I'm In Love by Janet Devlin




Eyebrows

It's a daily battle to keep the two woolly caterpillars on my forehead from mating, and when they're not trying to mate, it's seems like they each take turns deciding that it's time to grow arms and try to their darndest to shake hands with my hairline.

Dear Eyebrows, no need to be Hands Across America. The 80's are over and done with. Move on.

Jeans

For the love of Gallifrey, is there no more elusive garment than finding the right pair of jeans? (Well, there is the struggle of finding a decent bra, but I won't go into that here.) It's nearly impossible! In fact, I think I may have a better chance of finding a Yeti than a pair of jeans I love.

Then throw in the fact that I'm plus size, and oh lawdy, someone call Josh Gates because I have a mystery to solve!

I'm either stuck with something that looks like someone's Grandmother decided to go on a rampage with her Bedazzler on the back pockets, constantly wants to ride on my hips, and makes me live in constant fear that I'm going to flash crack if I even look at the ground much less bend over to pick something up off said ground.

Or I get the "Mom Jeans" option.

I'm sorry, but I really don't think my waistband belongs around my ribs, and elastic and pleats don't say "comfort". They say "I'm ready for my retirement home in Arizona! Watch out gentlemen, Mama's got her streeeeetchy pants on, and is ready to party! Now, someone get me a Mai Tai, STAT!"

Dear Cute, Flattering, Non Bedazzled Jeans, no need to hide out like the Loch Ness monster. C'mon out and play.


Big feet

You know as a kid you had that one sledding hill that seemed like you were flying down Mount Everest as you went sliding down it? And then you revisited it as an adult, and you were all "Where's the hill?! This is just a bump in the ground! What happened?!"

Well, that's kind of what having big feet is like only in reverse. What you think are small and delicate are really roughly the size of two canoes.

Example:

You're in the shoe department, innocently browsing through the shoes when you find the perfect pair of ankle boots that you just have to try.

Only when you go to find your size they don't have any out available to try, because heaven forbid we have anything over an 8 1/2 on display.

You then have suck it up and ask the preteen working/texting her boyfriend if they could see if they have a size 9 1/2 or 10 in stock.

After a barely disguised eyeroll and snort of derision, they get up and spend what feels an eternity in the stock room. Then the much put upon employee finally emerges and plops the pair of shoes on the floor next to you, and saunters off to resume texting...er working.

You open the box, only to draw back in horror! These are not the same shoes! I mean they kind of look like the same shoes, but these...these look like something Quasimodo would wear!

Oh sweet Thor, what happened?! Where are my precious little ankle boots?! ?!

Then in denial you try on the size 8's thinking maybe just maybe this particular style runs big?!

Only to look like an idiot because of course they won't fit. Who am I trying to kid? I don't have small dainty feet. I have the feet of a female Sasquatch, and can never have anything pretty for my poor, monstrous feet...sob.

Dear Big Feet, it's not you. It's me. I'm trying my best to learn to love you, but it's really, really hard because I really, really love cute shoes.

I know these are only a few of the woes of being a girl, so hit me up ladies! What are some of your girly woes?

Kitchen Spells

Butter, sugar, flour...

Simple items, yes, but oh, the magic that can be created with them.

How?

Because they're foundation ingredients to thousands of edible spells.

With them baked goods can be created that pull you back to your childhood, provide comfort after a hard day at work, lift spirits, or bring a smile to a troubled face...

Stawberry Lemon bars with just the right amount of tartness to perk up that 4:00 work coma.

Raspberry scones to cuddle with your morning cup of coffee.

Molasses cookies laced with spices and the essence of fall.

Chocolate Chip Cookies that feel like a hug from your mom.

Oatmeal Cherry Cookies that with one bite can feel like coming home from a long day.

Huckleberry Glace Pie that sings out Montana summers in the middle of January.

Strawberry Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting that whisper spring.

Pumpkin Bread, a cup of coffee and conversations with a dear friend are the only things needed to make up a perfect afternoon.

Cinnamon Rolls for lazy Saturday mornings.

And chocolate, oh sweet heavenly chocolate...

Mender of broken hearts and cure all to a horrible day.

Brownies with lightly crisped tops and fudgey centers.

Chocolate Zucchini Cupcakes with Chocolate Buttercream that may have you on the verge of confessing your sins.

Double Chocolate Sugar Cookies that might just make you turn your back on regular Vanilla Sugar Cookies forever.

Triple Chip Chocolate Muffins that you can call breakfast, but really you're just eating a cupcake for breakfast, and that's just fine.

People ask me why I bake, and this is why.

All these recipes and so many more help me personally, to share edible expressions of love.

Baking is my love language.

Baking is the magic I need to show my love.

Baking is magic.

Baking is love.

The Perks of Being Single (and a Bonus Rant To Boot)

Music: Scared by Judah & the Lion
           Go Quietly by Cold War Kids
           Feeling Good (Bassnectar Remix) by Nina Simone


I know I complain about being single, but honestly most of the time, singleness is... pretty flippin' awesome!

But sometimes, that awesomeness is swallowed up by society screaming at you that you're a waste as a human being because you haven't found your special unicorn yet.

In that light, I thought I would list some of the things that make singledom fantastic, but first, could all you "coupled up" people out there please do three teeny tiny favors for us singles?

Side note: Two of these apply specifically to people who attend church frequently.

First. Please for the love of Gallifrey, do not stick anyone over the age of 23 in the "college group" just because that happens to be only other small group that has singles.

What?!

Dude, I have 12-15 years on these kids! Most of them still have the scent of their high school locker wafting off their jackets. I mean, in some cases I'm almost the same age as their mothers. (Holy crap, I almost gave myself a heart attack there.) Not they're not amazing people, we're just not in the same space in our lives.

Church, there's no need to separate the married and unmarried. We can talk to and relate with couple type people just fine. It's not like we're Zocci from the planet Sto or anything (Hey yo! Whovian references being thrown down).

Second. Do not assume that because I'm an unmarried female of a certain age that somehow I'm dying for a maternal fix, and "You should sign up for nursery, and children's church, and VBS and Kid's Club and..."

Look. Kids are amazing. I love chatting with them, seeing how creative they are and listening to their funny stories. I'm so excited to be an auntie whenever that day comes.

But...

I AM NOT CALLED TO CHILDREN'S MINISTRY.

I have no need for a kid fix. My ovaries are not bursting at the sight of every baby. My biological clock may be ticking, but I'm kind of waving at it as it's passing me by (sorry, Mom.)

Third. Do not assume that because I'm single that I'm somehow incomplete. 

Do I want to be married? Yes. Do I feel unfufilled because I'm not? No. Do I feel like I'm less of a person because I'm single? NO. So don't treat me that way.

Also please don't give me condescending brush offs like: "You can't understand how hard life can be until you're married. It's work. Back breaking, soul aching work." 

Wow. You're really endorsing married life there, aren't ya, Hoss?

And yeah, you're so right. My life is all cupcakes and glitter and Pegasus's throwing up four leaf clovers. It's easy like a summer day, yo! I can't possibly understand life's hardships right now!!

Snort. Grumble. Hmmph. 

Whoa, enough of the rant, woman. I thought you were supposed to be telling us why being single is great, not screaming at us.

Okay, you're right, imaginary reader. I stop yelling...for now.

Okay, here we go.

1. I can go 4-5 months without shaving (I'd like to thank Montana Winters/leggings/tights), and there's no one to complain about my lack of follicle maintenance or the fact that my gams look like they belong on a lady sasquatch.

2. Cereal for dinner.

3. Sole ownership of the remote. I can watch four back to back episodes of Buffy, Supernatural, or The Great British Baking Show, and no one whines "Can't we watch something else? The Game is on!" (Lord, can you and I just come to an agreement that the gentleman you have for me won't be rabid sports fan? Please and thank you.)

4. I can hang out with friends at a moments notice.

5. Chips and salsa for dinner.

6. The entire bed to myself. I can lie diagonally, spread eagle, upside down, and sideways if I wanna. IT'S GLORIOUS.

7. The opportunity to focus solely on my relationships with my family and friends.

8. No one wakes me up in the middle of the night asking for a drink of water or a snack or to take them to the bathroom.

9. Laundry day takes me less than two hours, and it's only once a week.

10. No Anna. No Elsa. No Frozen soundtrack on repeat 500 times a day.

11. No Man Colds. Ladies, you know what I mean. 

12. Going to the bathroom in complete solitude.

13. Oatmeal, an apple, and a chunk of cheese for dinner.

14. Coordinating holiday events doesn't yet require the same skill set as a hostage negotiator.

15. Lastly and most importantly being single allows me to be have the freedom to drop everything at a single moment's notice to help whoever and wherever God needs me.

Don't get me wrong. I long for the day when (or if) God brings that certain special guy into my life, but that day isn't today. So why shouldn't I be loving the heck out of the time where He has me right now? 

A Love Letter To My Friends

Friend

Unfortunately that word gets bandied around too much.

Thanks to Facebook that word can now apply to anyone from your bestie to that person "you met once at your cousin's wedding, they sent you a friend request the next day and you're too nice of a person to deny them the request even though you know you'll never see or talk to them ever again."

This kind of treatment causes the word loses its punch. 

It gets the brush off.

It becomes something closer to what you might call an acquaintance rather than someone more dear.

I don't know about you, but my friends deserve better than the Facebook treatment because they're so much more than that. 

Let you tell you about my beloved ladies.

They are my:

Kindred spirits (I would like to thank my favorite fictional red head, Anne Shirley for this one.)

Sisters from different misters

The world's most precious commodities

Family by choice.

The ones who walk alongside me, and sometimes push me up that hill when I can't climb any longer.

Who I can unashamedly be my awkward self around.

Who aren't afraid to smack me upside the head when I'm being a whiny baby.

Who tell me I'm beautiful even when I truly do look like crap.

With whom I have crazy inside jokes and phrases that make people wonder if we're still sane (Spoilers. We're not).

("Squatch sisters! Wen. You must be spending a lot of time outside. Greasin' the creases.")

We can pull them out whenever the occasion calls for it and nail them every dang time.

We can read each other's most subtle eye roll, eyebrow raise/wiggle, head tilt, or blank stare.

Who can finish my thoughts even before I finish thinking them through.

Who know when keep the chocolate/salt and vinegar chips/kahlua and cream coming.

Who I would defend until MY dying day.

Who like being around me not in spite of but because I'm a giant nerdy weirdo.

Who know when it's time to throw down an 80's power ballad sing along (Answer? Anytime, all the time.) 

We know each others fears, hopes and dreams, and we each do anything in our power to soothe, inspire, and encourage those.

Who know how to make me laugh at the most inappropriate times, and I adore them for it.

Who sometimes know me better than I know myself (Oh sweet heavens, that so cliche, but...it's true.)

Who spur me on when I lose all drive and ambition.

Who I still can't believe that the Lord blessed me with their friendship.

Here's to those ones

You precious, loved beyond belief soul sisters.

I love you. (And before you protest my cheesiness, because I know at least one of you will, just let me love you and accept my dairy product loving ways.)