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Archive for October, 2012

This lovely ad just sprang up next to my Yahoo mail…

Is it because I blog so much about baked goods?

Hear me, Internet: I AM NOT FAT!! For your information, I am on Day Four of the Insanity workout!

Which, by the way, is definitely insane. I’m still getting used to it, so I’m not sure if I prefer it over P90X or not. It’s heavy on cardio while P90X was more of a combination of cardio and resistance training. Pro: the Insanity workouts are shorter. Con: Shaun T is not as entertaining as Tony Horton. Further investigation is needed for me to form a concrete opinion, but for now I’m getting insane in the membrane.

Anyway, Internet, let’s get back to the basics, shall we? Ads for shoes, clothing…I can handle that. Just please don’t call me fat again.

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Right before I got married, I learned about the best marriage tradition of all. We were to save a portion of the wedding cake, freeze it, and eat it on our first anniversary. As a huge cake fan, I was pretty psyched about this. I figured it would be a challenge to store a cake in the freezer and have it still taste good a year later, and I did not take the responsibility lightly. Moreover, The Primavera Regency did not simply give us a small sample of cake. We got the entire top—an 8-inch round. There was no way I was going to let this entire delectable cake get freezer burned or ruined in any way. So, I brought it home the morning after our wedding, and wrapped it up right before we hopped in a cab to the airport, Hawaii-bound.

Last week, I retrieved said cake from my parents’ freezer (it was taking up too much space in ours) and waited patiently for it to defrost. I didn’t really remember exactly how I wrapped it—I only remembered that there was a lot of foil and plastic wrap involved. And so, here are photos of each layer of wrapping, ending in the unveiling of the cake.

Layer 1: Plastic produce bag…for good measure, I guess?

Layer 2: Freezer paper, held together with…packing tape? I guess that’s all I had at the time.

Layer 3: Aluminum foil.

Layer 4: Plastic wrap. A lot of it. 10 sheets total. Wrapped and re-wrapped.
Uh oh, what is that brown thing? Apparently I left the flower on top. Either I thought it was fake, or I was too exhausted/excited for Hawaii to notice it.

Layer 5: THE CAKE! Once I took that gross flower off, it looked fine.
(The discoloration on the bottom half is my shadow)

Verdict: This year-old cake was just as good as it was on our wedding night. The cannoli filling was still delicious, and there was no residual, freezer-y taste.

Do you have a wedding coming up? Follow my steps—remembering to remove any live flora—and you’ll be good to go a year from now.

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This is my first time ever participating in a fantasy football league. When it started, I was pumped. I was confident, although I don’t really know why. I am the only girl in the league, and Girl Power was coursing through my veins. “I’m going to join this league and kick ass and show all these guys that girls can play fantasy sports too!” I AM WOMAN, HEAR ME ROAR!!!!

I am now 0-4, and I hate fantasy football. I don’t know what I was thinking. My team has been crippled by injuries, crybaby Quarterbacks (Jay Cutler, I HATE YOU!!), and bad decision-making on my part (I would be 2-2 right now if I had started and benched different players). Why didn’t anyone tell me that, instead of paying $100 to have a little fun and watch football, I would be paying $100 to have weekly bouts of uncontrolled rage and bitterness? As bad as I feel for myself, I feel worse for Michael, who has to listen to me complain and sulk every weekend. “I’m going to lose this week because my team STINKS. I hate fantasy football. Whatever, I don’t even care anymore. I give up.”

As a testament to my resilient spirit, the day after I claim to be giving up, I go back to the website to retool and try to pick up new players for my team. By Tuesday, I feel like I might have a shot at winning. Then, the weekend rolls around, and I inevitably suffer another crushing defeat. I don’t know how much longer I can keep bouncing back like this.

The worst part about being a fantasy football loser is that, instead of disproving a gender stereotype, I have reinforced it! I wanted to have a respectable showing in the hopes that the other guys in the league wouldn’t simply think, “Oh, I’m playing Rachel this week—that’s a guaranteed win.” Unfortunately, that is absolutely the case. I have failed women everywhere.

Sorry, ladies!

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