Onset.

I'm addicted to blogs.  This is a fairly recent phenomenon.  I have occasionally read blogs in the past but not consistently.  A co-worker of mine told me about cakewrecks, which I proceeded to peruse at leisure at work (which I shouldn't have done).  This led to wasted hours looking at wedding websites, wedding blogs, wedding cakes, wedding venues, etc.  I'm not even close to being engaged (nor do I wanna be right now), why am I addicted to everything wedding?  I have my whole wedding planned out in my head!  From wedding blogs I moved on to cooking blogs and lifestyle websites.  I have spent hours upon hours looking at archived blogs.  So much time have I put into this that now the only thing I truly want from Santa this year, is a Kitchenaid Stand Mixer (and I'll gladly blame The Pioneer Woman, who easily makes the mixer look quite romantic).

This is a shocking desire for me, and I'll tell you why.  I'm a feminist.  I'm not a die-hard, bra-burning, throw yourself in front of a horse like Emily Davison type feminist, but I've always had the mentality that I will never be stuck in the kitchen baking for my man.  As a matter of fact, I've always hated baking.  In college, my best friend and roommate would bake to ease stress; I thought she was crazy for many reasons, but mostly because baking is too stressful in and of itself to make other stress go away.  I did, however, enjoy the cookies, cakes and brownies she made as a result.

I digress.  In December of last year, I met this guy, we'll call him M.  After a couple dates, M offered to cook dinner for me.  Now, it is common knowledge among my friends that no only do I not bake (which I'm perfectly capable of, just dislike) but I do NOT cook (which I am NOT perfectly capable of and something ALWAYS goes wrong.)  The prospect of a deliciously cooked dinner by a very cute and sweet guy brought joy to my life.  After said delicious meal, and a couple more, I started to feel the pressure that I should return the favor.  YIKES!  I began to skim the cookbooks on my shelf (of which I have approximately 10, mostly because I like the idea of being a good cook), and managed to find a recipe that seemed impressive, yet do-able.  And so I mentioned the idea to M that he could come to my apartment and I would cook him dinner, and he thought to himself "Gee, that's great!  No women EVER cook for me!"  So I was feeling the pressure and decided to host a test run for my loving parents and brothers.

Boy was it a good thing I did the test run.  The recipe I decided to prepare required that I use the broiler, which I had never done.  So I went to the store and bought a broiling pan, prepped the food and when my family arrived, started cooking it.  So, in case you're like me and you've never used a broiler, beware!  They get really hot.  In my attempts to pull the broiling pan out of the oven (considering the shelf is on the top-most setting) I bumped the boiler with my oven mitt.  Well, really hot broiler+cotton=fire.  My family was able to laugh it off, and it was no big deal (just typical of my general cooking efforts), but I was very relieved it had happened during the dry run, and not during the attempt at a sweet, romantic, home cooked dinner for M.

The meal turned out fine, and as our relationship progressed, I found myself wanting to bake for him.  I started making cheesecakes (which I <3.)  Cheesecakes are really difficult to make with a mixing bowl and hand mixer.  How are you supposed to crack an egg while mixing 'til just blended and not get egg nastiness on the counter, the mixer, the cutting board sitting nearby, the other ingredients all at the same time?  It's hard.  Thus the desire for the Kitchenaid Stand Mixer.  I know it's early to be fantasizing about what Santa might leave under the tree for me this year, but it's such an expensive non-need that I can't justify buying it myself, especially considering how poor I am, and how it seems that every month, something else expensive and sucky happens to my poor Purple Putter (1999 Honda Accord, who until recent months, I loved dearly.)

Anywho, since I'm addicted to blogs, I've decided to try my hand at it.  I'm sure it won't be that interesting since all I do is go to work, come home, lounge with M and our precious Sally-Dog, and watch Jeopardy (because I'm a super-nerd who loves trivia).  But we'll see if I can produce anything interesting (thus the title of this blog, which is trash-bin in French). 

Bon nuit!