and her name is Lisa.
I did, indeed make Tiramisu.
From scratch.
with probably a little more Kahlua than necessary...
And, at the risk of tooting my own horn:
IT.
IS.
MUTHAFUCKIN.
AMAZING.
Yes, I'm a good cook.
This is my favorite dessert, lately, so I decided to give it a shot.
Hubby and I are both sold.
Which is too bad, because there are at least 400 grams of fat per mouthful.
oh well.
Since I believe in eating dessert for breakfast,
this now makes it possible for me to get a buzz before the sun's up.
heh.
I wish.
Sort of.
I wish Tiramisu was not so perishable.
I would send some to everyone.
Anyway.
Today is a beautiful, spring-like day.
Which makes me feel beautiful and spring-like.
...er...well...it makes my hair more springy...
And now I have a headache.
Apparently Oliver is an angry drunk.
(that was a joke, for those of you out there who don't get jokes.)
Of course he's not an angry drunk!!
And it's Max throwing a fit, anyway.
There are some flowers on my table.
I don't know what kind they are...mums, maybe?
They are simple, and pretty.
I have grown addicted to having fresh flowers in my house.
I love this house...it feels more like my own home than anywhere else I've lived since I moved out of my parents' house.
But with the tile and so much wood and leather, it needs softening.
The flowers do that.
do you care?
No, probably not.
Neither do I, really.
I really use the word really too much.
Really.
I really do.
No, really.
Sometimes I get stuck in a rut and I can't use different words, even though I know a plethora of them.
See?
Oodles.
I am reading Mary Shelley's "Frankenstein" for my english class right now,
and I am sort of disturbed by the way that Victor Frankenstein refuses to see the goodness in the creature he made.
The monster is only ugly to look at; he's affectionate and loving inside.
I also found it odd that according to the movies and popular legend of "Frankenstein",
he was built out of pieces from various corpses.
In the actual book, he seems to have been created from chemicals.
Maybe some of you have input?
Right now, I have email to catch up on...
eagerly, perhaps.
and all the fanciful and cobweb-less thoughts I had when I opened this page have been flushed away in a torrent of nothing.
more later.
perhaps.
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