|Pic from here|
That's some pretty dang high praise there, especially from my mom. Well, baking happens to run in the family and I've quite a passion and love for food so there's hope that I might enter her realm of talent. She's got a couple of decades of experience on me but I'll make my own mark in the world of baking. Cool. I felt pretty dang spiffy the rest of the day. Thanks Mom.
And, aha, come June I, Gabe, will be privy to the secret brownie recipe my mom has spent years concocting. The original deal was I wouldn't get it until I was married but seeing as at the rate I'm going, she might have Alzheimer's and forget the recipe, I'm getting it in June. SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!!!!!!!!! And now I won't have to pester her every month to please send me a whole batch of brownies. And no I'm not sharing it with anyone. But I might bake some for you!
Now, have you swept the floor lately? Painted something with a paintbrush? Well, the ends of my hair look like a broom. HORRID. I mean horrid. I know what you're thinking: get your hair trimmed. I am! I am! Tomorrow. Growing curly hair out is a process, a multi-year process. I'm trying to grow my hair out to as long (and as healthy) as it was in high school but ohmylantus it is a process. Grow, trim, grow, trim, grow, trim. All in the name of a healthy mane. Jeepers.
Now, if you'll excuse me, America's Best Dance Crew is on and, well, I'm a huge fan so I'm off to watch, be inspired, and learn a few new sweeeet tricks and moves to bust out on the floor the next time I dance the night away. Peace out.