I realized that I haven't actually posted since September, and I feel ashamed. So I put on Stairway to Heaven, and I'm hoping not to overshadow or disrupt what has traversed here lately, but I don't want to worry anyone, like Gabe.
I made the classic Better than Sex cake recipe for my Home Community group, all of whom shorned the name to sex cake, making it more like a nickname than a delicious dessert. In all things that I do, what I imagined and what I actually accomplished were in discord. I ran out of the spray-can whipped cream with about 1/8 of the cake left to frost. My Kit-Kat crumbles came out as either dust or mouth-sized chunks. My roommate comment that the sweetened-condensed milk pooled on the edges of the cake looked like snot. Still, it tasted like it was supposed to, better than-getting dumped by your Australian sex cake-sex cake. That was wrong, I know. I'm trying to decide if she would be offended if she saw that. I, of course, would simply be pleasantly suprised to be referred to as sex cake. Enough of that.
Oh, by the way, the actual story of Aladdin in 1001 Nights is quite different than the Disney version. Woah now, Walt Disney! That's all I have to say. Who doesn't want to have a Moroccan sorceror's brother posing as an old hermit-type woman trying to kill Aladdin, only to get stabbed in the chest? Oh, and the story takes place in China, unless the people who translated my version misunderstood Arabia for China. They also say wroth and waxed like somebody's gonna make it illegal before they finish writing the book. Just ask me if Aladdin had three wishes or not. So much for literary accuracy in cartoons.
A week from today will be the first paid vacation of my life. What you all have taken for granted for three years is an utterly new delight to me. This of course, assuming I don't get fired in the next four days of work.
So enough about my odd life, with work and Arab literature and missing Australian sex cake- or whatever I'm trying to say while offending not just a few of you. When's Lynnea really gonna blog again? That's what I should devote all my blogging to - being the woman before the evil judge (not that Lynnea is evil, or a judge, and I'm not a woman [though that's been contested before in public]). Ah, you know what I mean. Somebody come visit me. Brad never ended up up here, so somebody's gotta get here so I can show off the west coast. I've gotta go to bed. Friday means we can wear jeans to work. Lucky me.