Happy Obsessions

 I love unhealthy happy obsessions. Recently I've become obsessed with pies. This happy moment began when I indulged in some blueberry pie from Pioneer Pies. If you ever have the unfortunate opportunity of visiting Oklahoma, then I suggest drowning your sorrows in some comfort food from here. I recommend taking the pie, hiding in the safe spot, being armed with a spoon, and digging in.

After consuming enough pies a little wheel turned in my head and I wondered, 'How hard could it be to make heaven on a plate?'. I searched the interwebs long and hard, I oogled at all the recipes on FoodGawker, and drooled all over my keyboard. Finally, I came across this amazing recipe and thought, 'I've found the one!,' and asked the fancy man if he could get a list of ingredients.

By Sunday, I was armed with more blueberries than you can throw at the aggressive geese at our apartment complex. I altered the original recipe because I'm too lazy to follow directions and because the fancy man got the wrong crusts. This meant I had to get creative but you can alter the recipe according to your convenience by use your own pie dish and the fancy rolled up pie crusts.

This recipe will make 2 pies.

Things you may or may not need:

Crust
- 2 sets of frozen pie crusts (Each set contains 2 pie crusts in disposable pie containers)

Glaze
- 1 large egg yolk
- 1/4 tsp cooking oil.

Filling a.k.a. food drug
- 4 pints fresh blueberries
- 1 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 3/4 cup raw brown sugar
- 1/2 cup instant tapioca
- 3 tbsp cornstarch
- 3 tbsp unsalted butter
- 2 tbsp lemon juice
- 2 tbsp vanilla essence
- 1 tsp ground cinnamon
- 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg
- 1/4 tsp salt

What to do with the things you may or may not need?

1. Wash the blueberries, getting rid of unwanted stems and random alien forms getting cozy in your home. Transfer to a GIANT bowl. Resist eating. Stare longingly/lovingly. Resist eating some more.Okay have one.

2. In a separate bowl, mix the sugar (both brown and granulated), tapioca, cornstarch, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt. Resist the urge to play with the dry mixture (Trust me, it's no fun inhaling cornstarch).

3. Add lemon juice and vanilla essence to the GIANT bowl of blueberries and mix thoroughly. Add the dry mixture to the blueberries.

4. Mix thoroughly and let sit  for 20 minutes, stirring a few times in between.

5. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees and place a rack in the center. Take a set of pie crusts and remove from the pie dish. Transfer to lightly floured surface and flatten out dents. Once the blueberry mixture is done resting, transfer to the second set of pie crusts. Cut up pieces of butter and place on top of the blueberry goodness.

6. Take the rolled out crusts and place on top. Fold the edges under the rim of the dish and cut away any extra bits of crust. I reused the extra crust bits to make a braided loop and flower but you are under no obligation to do so. Pinch the edges to seal.

7. In a bowl whisk the egg yolk and oil. Take a brush and glaze the pies with the egg mixture. Stab the pies a few times. Take a step back and admire the piece of art you have just created.

8. Bake the pies for 10 minutes.

9. Remove from oven and turn down the temperature to 320 degrees. Cover both pies loosely with foil and return to oven. Cook for 50 minutes, remove foil, and cook for another 10 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool for 2 hours.

10. Close the blinds, find a safe spot where you will not be disturbed, and dig in. Best served consumed with double cream or ice-cream

Who says you money can't buy you happiness? Money bought me the ingredients for happiness. Fact is blueberry pie makes me very very happy.

So basically:

Money = Blueberry pie

Blueberry pie = Happiness

Therefore:

Money = Happiness

Green Therapy!

Ever get the feeling, there is far too much paper in your life except, it isn't the green kind? No? Well didn't your mother ever tell you to share? I accept cash and/or checks. Thanks.

Now where was I? Oh right! Too much paper epidemic. So, it's a little well know secret that I have the tendency of being a bit of a nerd. This means, in class I have this uncontrollable urge to jot down every single word uttered by my professors. Generally, one might assume that such dedication should prove quite useful in the long run, however what one may forget is that by the end of semester said dedication leads to an unhealthy stack of notes.

Point is, I might have an ever growing pile of notes that is destined to someday make it to the recycling bins. But since I'm eternally lazy and forgetful, the pile of notes simply sit on my shelf, growing and growing. Some days, when I am wasting away on the couch, I see the pile and I can almost hear them cry. Or maybe that is the neighbor's kid.

Anyway, so I finally decided I wanted to address this pile before next semester, but my lazy behind really didn't want to drive to the recycling bin. So I sat on the floor, holding my notes and pondered. After fidgeting, and arguing with myself over my own laziness, I had a light bulb moment.

*Biology notes = Paper flowers*

Here is what followed:

I'd like the think the pictures are pretty self-explanatory but I know I hate not having instructions so here you are:

1. Find scary stack of papers and separate one from the pack using a pair of scissors as a weapon.

2. Keeping the scissors in sight for intimidation purposes, fold the paper in half.

3. Cut the paper in half and show it whose the boss.

4. Fold each half into half again.

5. Fold both strips into half again.

6. Repeat process to the paper's buddies till you have plenty of strips.

7. Take one strip and fold the corner diagonally.

8. Begin to roll the strip, keeping it a bit tight.

9. Apply a bit of hot glue to the strip as you continue rolling. 

10. When you reach the end of the strip, turn it over and hot glue the bejesus out of the base.

11. Take a fresh strip and hot glue it to the rolled mess. Gently fold the strip as you roll.

12. Continue rolling, gently folding, and hot gluing till it looks more like a flower.

Tip: You can add as many strips as you like. There is no such thing as too much when u have a hot glue gun and conviction. You might feel like it looks a bit wonky at first but you'll get a feel for it after awhile. 

So there you are, paper flowers from biology notes. Because the world needs more paper flowers. Because it's therapeutic watching my biology notes being recycled into something I actually kind of like. 

The End

Post-it + Lack of will to study = Pretty consequences

Between hours of procrastinating and the rare moments when I manage to inhale oodles of information for my exams, I have moments of utter genius. This to many is heavily debatable, but in my feeble mind I have managed tasks just shy of conquering the world. The said epiphanies are heavily reliant on my need for an excuse to avoid studying.

I happened to have had multiple epiphanies in the last month (possible cause: summer semester consisting of subjects like college algebra and general biology). What started out with twitching, ripping post-its, and drinking caffeine to address my frustration with college algebra resulted in something pretty-ish.

Following is the painful tutorial for the said pretty-swirly-thingy. Excuse the poor quality of the images, I was lazy and the fancy man kept reminding me of the pile of homework that demanded to be addressed.

I used a post-it since it was small and simple. You can use any paper, as long as it's a perfect square, preferably with pretty things on both sides.

Step 1: Find yourself a square piece of paper.

Step 2 : Fold it diagonally.

Step 3: Cut slits about a quarter inch apart, making sure not to cut out the triangles entirely. I cut two triangles but you can cut as many as you want as long as you leave a little tab at the end. (I don't ever measure because I'm special like that, but if you're OCD it's an option, especially if you are working with a large piece of paper)

Step 4: Unfold and observe the pretty cut-outs followed by OOHH's and AHHH's.

Step 5: Connect the inner square with a piece of tape or a bit of glue.

 Step 6: Turn over.

 Step 7: Stick the next square ends together and turn over.

Step 8: Connect the last square ends.

 Step 9: Place on a pretty background and revel in your creation followed by more OOHH's and AHHH's.

You now have your very own pretty-swirly-thingy. You may use glitter paper and wear it as a necklace. Just sayin'. You might start a trend.

Tis the season to be.

I lay in bed wide awake in the wee hours of the night. You can tell it’s a cold night by the goreish sounds the wind makes. It reminds me of Ramadan in Pakistan. Waking up at sehri as mum screams at me, every sound seems to be hazy. You could hear the Naats on the loudspeakers from each and every mosque within the vicinity. As haunting as that sound is, it manages to comfort me. That's what the wind here sounds like sometimes. Maybe it's my mind playing tricks on me, feeling the need to familiarize it associates any sound with the sounds of home. Yet somehow Pakistan hasn't felt like home in over half a decade. It’s a sad dilemma when you are torn between wanting to be a part of your culture but then realizing how much you resent it in the long run. Logically it feels things are clicking in place but there’s a sadness, a sense of betrayal on my part. Somehow it feels I retaliated all that our kind is suppose to believe in. I've never feared other beings, which is probably why I've managed to survive this long. However I fear what I have the ability of becoming. 

 

There’s something perpetually saddening about the holiday season. Whether it’s our mind registering the fact it’s a symbol for families everywhere uniting or its simply the cold that urges you to huddle together infront of the fire place with the scent of winter spice warming your soul. I never cared for Christmas before London. Five years it would seem can change the way you look at the holiday season altogether. Walking through the streets from Piccadilly Circus to Bond Street, the beautiful display of lights, the hussle busstle of Christmas shoppers as they rush past you unable to walk through the masses, with more bags than their own body mass. The vibe of the holiday season there is something I have never experienced anywhere before. You take a moment to stop and observe in the middle of Oxford Circus and you can feel a wave of warmth within making you smile. Everything about the center from the small cafes to the big chains ooze Christmas spirit. The cold air doesn't seem to bite even if the temperature gauze says otherwise. Happy spent shoppers everywhere. I never realized how much I'd miss that.

 

Oklahoma is a different story. Its quiet. Too quiet. Some people display an elaborate array of lights and decorations reinforcing and desperately overcompensating the Christmas spirit this town lacks.  Apart from that it feels sad and bare. Heartbreakingly sad. I'm not quite sure how I am to get accustomed to this but apparently in time, I will. 

 

 

Words. A big jumble of words. Word vomit is more like it.

Have you even come across people from the past and felt like they're in a time warp but you are not even a shadow of the person you were? They talk the same, they stammer on the same words, make the same old jokes, jolt forward in uncontained excitement in the same way, believe in the same old beliefs, even pick on their finger nails in the same way. Sometimes you meet new people and you realize even though you never knew them before, they haven't stepped forward or strived for something bigger or better. They haven't grown.

Changes can be so bizarre. Sometimes its vicious and unplanned, sometimes it’s abrupt yet exciting and sometimes it’s unexpected yet enlightening. I'm a shadow of my past self but then again this was always my potential. Though I've experienced changes in many forms, they usually were circumstantial. Lately, it’s been a change relating to my very being. I have to be honest, I am liking this change. Somehow the awkwardness is gone. When I was still evolving from child to adult child, I was told I liked projects i.e. I like to fix things/people (same difference). I suspect the theory behind it would be; unable to fix self aims to fix others. However recently, I had a suspicious feeling of some truth behind this allegation, so I have consciously steered clear of these so called 'projects'. It would appear I did have a problem.

Strength is a wonderful thing if you are able to discover it within yourself. Of course time and experience are a huge factor. I feel I'm entering a new era in my journey and I am no longer able to use 'I'm naive' as an excuse anymore. I might miss the innocence cloaking the ignorance but being in control is worth it somehow. I don't feel the need to apologize for myself anymore. Today I have chills as I embrace myself. I feel a change and I can't help but question what is this I'm feeling and why. However, at the same time I somewhat understand this is what a new beginning feels like. This time it will be on my terms or nothing else.

“Sometimes the world within parallel minds, cloaked gazes, hushed whispers, an uneasy graze of souls and lingering finger tips, can be just enough to bring you back to life.”

A Love letter for Daisy

Dear Car A.k.a. Daisy,

We haven't known each other long but over the few months that you've been in my life, it's been magical, sorta. Initially you smothered me with all your affection by refusing to turn on the air conditioning. This wasn't a huge issue as it was spring. Then we took you to the doctor and he worked his magic on you and lo and behold we had cold air. We spent hours driving around town. We went to the movies on countless occasions, we went to get groceries and we even went to university together. We were a family. We were always so connected when we were together.

Then one day you decided you weren't happy with our arrangement and got a fever. I mean the gauge just went nuts. It went from warm to hot and then beyond. I tried to reason with you and tried to talk to into calming down but you refused. Finally, I decided to let you have some time alone, to calm down. The following week I sensed a cold war between us. We barely hung out and our time together seemed quick and somewhat disconnected.

At the end of that week I decided to put our difference aside to spend some quality time with you. Half way through you decided you couldn't take it anymore and your temperature gauge went completely bonkers. I have never seen it go from warm to 'I'm-going-to-erupt-in-flames' hot in such a short time. I stopped and again tried to talk things out. I gave you affection and fondled your bits (even though it really isn't my thing). I made sure you have enough fluids in your system to bring down your fever and gave you some time to breath. Everything seemed to be improving but half a mile later you were back to throwing a hissy fit. At this point I gave up. I needed you to work with me and get me to work but no, you had other ideas. So I got up, made alternated arrangements and left you there. I thought a day away from me would make you appreciate our love.

The next day I came to see you and I even brought company, since my fondling alone wasn't doing the trick. He spent a fair amount of time fooling around with you. I wasn't comfortable but I understand you have needs. After all this inappropriateness, we tried to take you home. Instead you blew out white smoke in our faces. A part of me died at this sight. We were having such a great run but you had to be an old moody lady.

Over the weekend you sat in an estranged parking lot in front of the National Guard Recruiting Office. I hope you enjoyed watching the youth of today sign their lives away. Finally on Monday I had to bring in the big guns and brought my brother to talk some sense into you. He even tried to get you to the doctor but you were back to your old tricks. You let out dodgy smells and more white smoke. Finally we had you towed to the doctors. After my short talk with the nurses, I was informed things were grim. You no longer loved me and it was going to take a lot of money, time and effort to woo you back. Realistically I don't think I can handle such a commitment this early in a relationship. I won't say I won't miss you, but I am coming to terms that you no longer wish to be with me.

I hope you meet someone you can finally love for more than a few months and may you have many adventures with them. Sadly you are now dead to me. This is now the end of our short but wonderful and touching love story. Please know, you will be missed.

Yours truly,
Madiha A.k.a Driver

P.S. If you chose to make this relationship work, I am willing to take you back. Once I meet someone else this grace period is over and there will be no going back.

FarmVille stole my dignity

Yes I'm a facebook whore but that isn't the sad part. I also happen to be addicted to ‘FarmVille’. For those of you unaware, FarmVille is an application on facebook where you grow fruit and veggies, have farm animals and do other farm related things. As with any gaming application, the programmers strive to improve and make it as addicting as possible. FarmVille is no exception. The graphics are semi decent. There are cute animated animals from bunnies to horses. Then there are a variety of seeds, barns, cottages and even a green house. The game is entirely pointless and your aim is to gain lots of experience points to get to the next level. Each new level bears the temptation of new seeds or buildings or other useless farm type items.

Initially you needed X amount of neighbours to expand your farm. This requires you to coax your otherwise normal friends to play Farmville. The more neighbours, the more you can expand your farm and other little perks. This obviously meant I had to convince my friends to play with me. Very soon I had people addicted to the point where they were begging for free gifts.

As with any game, it loses its charm after awhile. Farmville is no different. So they tried adding little extra bits to make it appealing or so they think.

To clarify my point I present to you subject A:

Here you see a brown cow. These can only be adopted once a fellow farmer finds one. Once they are ready to be milked you click on them and the following options appear:

Chocolate milk? Seriously? Ohh so that’s how we get chocolate milk. From adopted brown cows! Mystery solved!

Subject B:

As you can see there now an option to 'Pet' the duck. I mean wow! I can enjoy the experience of petting a virtual duck. Does he poop little gold turds for my special petting treatment? Apparently not. It’s completely pointless but hey.. you get to pet a horse or a cow or a duck. Bet you never thought you could ever experience that huh!

Last but by no means least Subject C:

(This is where Farmville steals my dignity at one point. It reminded me of what I really am. A blue eyed, balding bloke in my skibbies)

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go harvest my crops and pet my horses.

Happy History

You know when you hear an old familiar tune. Something you use to listen to repeatedly until it became so unbearable even the thought gave you a migraine? Well the Goo Goo Dolls had a song 'Iris'. It was from the OST of City of Angels. I hadn't seen the movie at that time but I saw the video on MTV and I distinctly remember falling in love. I'm pretty sure that had something to do with the constant surge of hormones. We're talking about late 1998. I was a teenager. A raging, hormonal teenager I might add. I was in love with being in love. It was a very unadulterated emotion.

I listen to Pandora at work and was expecting the likes of The Notwist or even The Knife, so I was shocked where I heard the all-too-familiar riff of 'Iris'. It was so unexpected, so wonderfully familiar, so joyous, I was shocked at how shocked at I was. Yes it’s a vicious loop. A thought hit me as I revelled in feeling like a hormonal tween again. If this is how it feels like to reminisce the past, then 10 years from now I will think of today as a distance past. Today we are making history with our actions and favorite songs. How bizarre. I mean it’s not like I wasn't always aware of this but it’s a whole different feeling to understand it in a moment of epiphany. I was enlightening myself with this revelation. A part of me thinks that it could be a by-product of extreme boredom at work but I like to think that the wheels in my head were finally turning or something nice like that.

On a different note, last night I made a montage for my girl friends. These two women are the rocks in my life. When everything falls apart, they are the ones who slap me to my senses. I'll admit I was teary eyed making it, but it made me realize how lucky I truly am. People spend their entire lives and never even come close to the bond us girls have.

I've never done anything like this before so it's rough but it has a lot of heart. This particular song is by Coldplay and it’s called ‘Strawberry Swing’. Doesn’t it make you smile inside?

Time

I wish my heart was cool,
But I’m still mourning you
I wish my light was golden blue..
As it was.. with you.

I smell the coffee on your breath,
Your lips sore
I can taste her cheap lipstick
Her cigarettes, her gum of death.

Voices inside my head
Sing a familiar tune.
Sitting on a leaf, I drift ahead
The wind now static, I can't follow you.

I can't hear you sing to me.
I know I'm not the only one,
Who believes in your starry eyed dream.
I know now, we were never meant to hold on.

(Please note I am more than aware I'm not a songwriter or a poet)

_______

There are far too many things in life I can't analyze or categorize. Time for instance baffles me. As a little girl, I distinctly remember resenting time for not moving faster. You waited impatiently for school to end. You anticipated the joy of finishing your homework just so you could play undisturbed for a few hours (knowing you’re still going to get a lecture on how you should rather be studying). You waited even more impatiently for summer holidays (which you spent doing illegal amounts of school work). Nothing seemed to come to you when you most wanted it. When you did eventually reach the point you so desperately awaited, you relished every last millisecond of it. It felt as if time came to a screeching halt and you could seize every moment. Now the son-of-a-gun flies like the universe would crumble if it didn't. I can feel it slipping through my fingers as we speak and now I'm nearly 24 with not much to show for it. Oh irony! Thy a cruel mistress.

My brother appeared to have gone nuts and came home yesterday with a truck load of groceries. This morning as I walked in the kitchen, I could smell fresh produce. I stood there motionless for a minute, eyes closed and remembered mom in the kitchen. It always smelt of fresh produce and spices. I could smell her distinct scent and I remember pestering her with pointless questions. In my head I hug her. It makes my heart melt and I feel warm inside. Time. Now it feels like I didn't have enough of it. I miss her. I don't care what she did or how she was, she is still my mother. I can feel in her voice the love and passion. I can sense the sadness. I know she wants to see me. I know she wants to see all three of us. Its times like these I wish I hadn't wasted my life and time. I wish I had gotten over the issues and made something of myself. So instead of her wishing and waiting, I could be taking care of her. It's times like these I know I've failed.

The divorce papers came through in the post on Friday and I couldn’t deal with it. I’ve been through this before. I’ve signed the dotted line before and spent a week moping it before. Yet it didn’t stop it from hurting when I got home and saw the envelope and his handwriting with the Royal mail stamp on it. I carefully opened the envelope, placed the papers and the envelope gently on the floor and it’s been there since. Yes I know ignoring the issue is never the solution but I really, really, REALLY like ignoring the issue. So now I have today to review, date and sign them and go to the post office first thing tomorrow and post them. Except I like it sitting on the floor, slowly getting covered in dust, cat fur and other paraphernalia I don’t care for. It’s nicer covered and ignored. To make matters worse, because of this tiny incident I shut out everyone I know and disconnected myself (literally) from the world of support. I needed time to recover. Most of all I needed to be distracted. Today as I discussed with mum about my life, I realized all I needed to do was to call her when things started to appear distorted in the first place. As I hung up, I felt lighter (though it could have something to do with being on the phone for over 3.5 hours).

Overall it feels like a phase, one that I must go through in order to accept change. It’s not simple or easy or even convenient for that matter, but it’s a phase. Apparently, life likes teaching people like me ‘lessons’. I don’t know who this life person is, but one day when we finally confront each other, I’m going to be armed with more ammo than you can throw at Osama in a confined space.

Sometimes I resist
Sometimes I shoot people down
Some days I loathe
Some days I let myself let go..

Sanctuary

It’s a harsh reality when you become all too aware of how cynical and jaded you have become. I generally prefer responding to such realizations with denial. However, recently I came face to face with a version of myself before the tragedies and winter tears.

She was 22. An angelic entity with so much to see and learn. Her young spirit strong and convicted. Her enthusiasm felt contagious. She seemed grateful for the opportunity. I saw myself in her. Her aura of innocence made her glow. I stood there listening to her and it was painful how much I saw myself in her. In my heart I said a silent prayer, 'Please let her not see what I did, let her not suffer like I did'.

Today as I took a moment to wonder why my heart felt like it had been hit by a demolition ball. I thought of how I missed being that carefree. I missed not knowing the concept of heartbreak. This morning over breakfast, I looked outside my window and remembered my little apartment back in London. I would sit on the floor over my large uncomfortable cushion, savouring the scent of incense. Contemplating about broken glass, which just like our spirit can never be fixed.

Some days feel like a breath of new life. I smile without thinking. I get a nervous pang in my gut and laugh about absolutely nothing. Then there are the 'don't-look-at-me-or-I'll-cry' days. When the past will creep its filthy claws in my eyes and I am forced to observe every last detail of the damage done. Today I wore a ring. It wasn't 'the' ring. It was just a ring. The entire day I felt suffocated looking at it, feeling the cold metal against skin, rubbing my finger tips over the bevelled and embossed edges. The stones felt alive and I felt like my life was being stripped one follicle at a time. I still have the indentation from 5 years of never taking 'the' ring off. A stark reminder of a past, I'd rather much forget.

Omar worries but I asked him I can't not date forever, can I now? Even though most of me wants to run away from the very idea, a small part of me wants to be reminded what it felt like. I made a choice to keep the past under a veil. If asked I will not lie but I'd rather discuss the dry cleaner's taxes instead. Maybe I'm not over it yet. Maybe I'm just falling into old traps. Maybe I need a saviour. Maybe I'm digging a grave for myself. Maybe I miss the way it felt. Maybe I'm indulging in pain.

Like the rest of us I too have a little sanctuary where I hide. Between worlds and hollow walls, I sit quietly and ponder on the intricacies of stardust hearts and melancholy of a past life. Lately this little sanctuary has grown but the space feels anything but empty. The problem lies in when I manage to lock myself out, with the recession, locksmith are just as expensive within the world in my head.

I am

Every now and then the most unexpected of things can change you the way you feel. Today I was going through some old messages and discovered one from a past 'escapade', someone who was a part of my life during a brief lapse of judgment. I'm not sure why I grew to resent him but his message reminded me why I liked him initially. It was sweet and genuine. Frankly, it is rare to feel that reading a few words. Unfortunately my response sounded like any normal man's worst nightmare, highly clingy.

After every phase in our life, whether it be fate or self induced, we feel the need to do some soul searching. We question our decisions and our very way of life. I realized something disturbing. I no longer know what I want. I no longer understand myself. I contradict myself so much that I'm almost having an identity crisis.

Someone I recently got to know said I knew too much. I'm not sure I understood what that meant but I didn't feel the need to ask for an explanation. I generally feel ignorant so I kind of felt reassured, I'm not so stupid. Each time I move I feel like this is an excuse to start over. Be a new person. Play with personalities and identities. But at the end of the day you can only play a role for so long. The thing about growing up is you aren't scared of that person in the mirror anymore. I think that means you learn to live with yourself and everything that comes with it. I no longer look in the mirror and feel terrified or ugly. I suppose this also means the deepest of cuts can heal leaving embellished little scars. It’s like your soul is a brail map for your blind inner self, leaving a long detailed tale of history.

Today I accept it is beautiful.

Today I am many things. Few good. Some bad. Many questionable.

I am the girl who listens to that sappy song over and over and over and over till it sounds like nails on a chalkboard.

I am the girl who contradicts herself so much she forgets who she is.

I am the girl who drives herself crazy. (image how the rest of the world feels)

I am the girl intimidated by her own shadow but I'll fight you any day.

I am the girl who starts running for no reason and laughs with tears.

I am the girl who takes pictures of herself when she is happy, just so I can remember when I forget.

I am the girl who trips on stage in front of a crowd.

I am the girl who told you so.

I am the girl who worries her neighbours when she sings.

I am the girl who is old fashioned and you would never guess.

I am the girl who will dance with you in the middle of nowhere because it is my favorite song.

I am the girl who has butterflies for no reason.

Chocolate Cake for the lazy

The best things in life you simply stumble upon.

I came across this recipe on some random site through stumble and the title alone provoked me to cook. Well I wouldn't really call this cooking but for someone like me who can burn water, this is in fact cooking.

Chocolate cake in a mug

Things that you may or may not need

- 4 tbsp Flour
- 4 tbsp Sugar
- 3 tbsp Cocoa
- 1 Egg
- 4 tbsp Milk
- 3 tbsp Oil
- A splash of vanilla extract
- A coffee mug
- A half decent microwave


What do you with the things you may or may not need

- Mix all the dry ingredients together

- Mix in the egg
- Add milk and oil and mix
- Add vanilla extract and mix
- Pour mixture in mug.
- Put mug in microwave.
- Cook on high for 3 minutes.
- Remove from microwave.
- Take a decent portion with spoon.
- Put in mouth.
- Savour, chew, swallow.

Tips:

- Try adding caramel to it for a wonderfully gooey texture.
- When putting mug in microwave, put it on a small plate to avoid any spillages.
- This goes perfect with ice cream.