At the risk of my blog being deleted, should I ever want to resume it, I need to make a post. I know it's been a very long time but I had a baby three months ago (the amazing Mr. Wyatt) and my head isn't really there. Also a year ago I moved into a house with the worst kitchen in existence so I rarely bake.
I'm making a carrot cake today though so we'll see how that goes!
January 20, 2013
August 9, 2011
The Batman Cake
I had to call the police on my upstairs neighbor the night I decorated this cake. Pissed me off. Imagine trying to decorate a two tier cake for a precocious four year old to the muffled thumping of heavy-bass dance music and screeching girls. It's okay that you didn't invite me to the party, I'd rather listen to it from downstairs while I grind my teeth to nubbins.
Whatever. It was Brady's fourth birthday and he requested a Batman cake, complete with Batman, the Joker and a "Batman-bile" (pronounced "beel", not like "a bitter, alkaline, yellow or greenish liquid, secreted by the liver, that aids in absorption and digestion, especially of fats").
Super Auntie to the rescue! I sculpted a Batmobile out of modeling chocolate and baked a vanilla sponge cake with a marshmallow creme filling. No real calamities, it just looked really cool.
You may notice the pictures are taken at an "artistic" angle. This is because it was slightly tilting. Whoops.
Whatever. It was Brady's fourth birthday and he requested a Batman cake, complete with Batman, the Joker and a "Batman-bile" (pronounced "beel", not like "a bitter, alkaline, yellow or greenish liquid, secreted by the liver, that aids in absorption and digestion, especially of fats").
Super Auntie to the rescue! I sculpted a Batmobile out of modeling chocolate and baked a vanilla sponge cake with a marshmallow creme filling. No real calamities, it just looked really cool.
You may notice the pictures are taken at an "artistic" angle. This is because it was slightly tilting. Whoops.
The Baby Bump Cake That Almost Wasn't
My sister had her baby shower on the May long weekend, and I was in charge of providing the treats. I made chiffon cupcakes with cream cheese frosting, which were delicious. I also told Tynna I would make her a baby bump cake. I have never made one, and had no idea how. Trusty Google provided me with some tips and tricks. I whipped up a Hellman's chocolate cake (my new go-to recipe. Mr. Town used to make it for us all the time, with hot fudge frosting and it's amaaaaazing) and poured it into a Pyrex bowl and my trusty cake pan that I use to make boobs. How odd that this is something I now do regularly.
The cakes baked fine, but the one that was supposed to be the belly seemed kind of wonky. I stared at these lumps of cakes and for the life of me could not figure out how I was supposed to make this into a baby bump cake. Also, I was dreading having to work with fondant to decorate it. I hate fondant, it tastes like chewy garbage. (I'll spare you my fondant rant, maybe I'll tell you some other time). I called my mom and told her that I didn't think I could make the cake, that it was really stressing me out. She said not to worry about it, that there would be plenty of food and my cupcakes would be just fine.
I stressed and stressed all night. The last thing I wanted to do was upset a very pregnant woman and let her know that her dream baby bump cake was not going to happen. I had bad dreams all night. Seriously.
The next day I took the cakes out of the fridge, and it was like looking at them with brand new eyes. Ohhhhh, I get it.
It looked like this:
The cakes baked fine, but the one that was supposed to be the belly seemed kind of wonky. I stared at these lumps of cakes and for the life of me could not figure out how I was supposed to make this into a baby bump cake. Also, I was dreading having to work with fondant to decorate it. I hate fondant, it tastes like chewy garbage. (I'll spare you my fondant rant, maybe I'll tell you some other time). I called my mom and told her that I didn't think I could make the cake, that it was really stressing me out. She said not to worry about it, that there would be plenty of food and my cupcakes would be just fine.
I stressed and stressed all night. The last thing I wanted to do was upset a very pregnant woman and let her know that her dream baby bump cake was not going to happen. I had bad dreams all night. Seriously.
The next day I took the cakes out of the fridge, and it was like looking at them with brand new eyes. Ohhhhh, I get it.
It looked like this:
Key Lime Pie-tastrophe (Or The Key Lime Pie That Almost Wasn't)
I have not written in awhile, for three reasons. The main reason is I'm unbelievably lazy. Secondly, I don't have a camera and blogs are a snoozer if there are no pictures to accompany the posts. Third, I've become a little less useless in the kitchen (mostly in part to forcing myself to be more organized and plan things out ahead of time), and as such have had less calamities.
That being said, allow me to tell you the tale of the Key Lime Pie That Almost Wasn't..
Picture it, Father's Day 2011. The first time in many many years that Mr. Town was here to celebrate it with us. I thought to myself "What a great opportunity to show him what a wonderful father he has been to us and bake him a Key Lime pie" (it's his favourite).
Now that I am organized, I made sure I had all my ingredients at the ready. Also, I knew I would be pressed for time, so I prepared my graham cracker crust ahead of time, and had it covered in the fridge and ready to go. A few days before Father's Day, I started to prepare the pie. I've never made one before but I figured it would be easy, which it was. Or would have been.
The first thing that happened was Chris knocked the pie plate out of the fridge, not only destroying my pre-prepared crust (it was so crumbly and perfect and buttery too, what a terrible loss) but also smashing my good Pyrex plate to smithereens. ARGHHH!!! I tried to put it behind me and bought a pre-made crust from Wal-Mart. Ugh, gross.
The next thing that happened was after spending ages squeezing, straining and zesting about 25 teeny tiny Key Limes, I realized I had no condensed milk. Crap! I could have sworn I had a can left over from Christmas! I bought some before work the next day and left it in my car, with a plan to really quickly slap this pie together, since my carefully laid plans had gone down the pooper.
I got home from work at 9:30 (yes, that's PM), and got down to it. I went to open the can of milk, which promptly exploded. Turns out it's not a good idea to leave it in the car all day when it's hot out. I ran it over to the sink so inspect the damage. Only half the contents remained. Frrrriiiigggggg. Of course that would happen. I didn't know what to do, I needed to have this pie ready that night, I had to work the next day and was going to my sister's for dinner right after work. Chris was leaving for work shortly and I couldn`t go out to get more.
I ransacked my cupboards, praying that there was something in there that I could substitute for sweetened condensed milk. Cans and cans of evaporated milk, but no condensed. And then, in the way back, there it was. That elusive can off milk that I had sworn I had left over from Christmas.
Of course.
Had I taken the extra two seconds the night before to look, none of this would ever have happened. On the plus side at least I had a story to tell.
The pie came together nicely after that. Mr. Town said it was as good as any Key Lime pie he`s had on any cruise ship, which made me feel quite proud. After all the disasters, near misses and broken Pyrex plates, I made my first Key Lime pie.
And if I didn`t keep dropping my cameras and breaking them, I would have a picture to show you.
That being said, allow me to tell you the tale of the Key Lime Pie That Almost Wasn't..
Picture it, Father's Day 2011. The first time in many many years that Mr. Town was here to celebrate it with us. I thought to myself "What a great opportunity to show him what a wonderful father he has been to us and bake him a Key Lime pie" (it's his favourite).
Now that I am organized, I made sure I had all my ingredients at the ready. Also, I knew I would be pressed for time, so I prepared my graham cracker crust ahead of time, and had it covered in the fridge and ready to go. A few days before Father's Day, I started to prepare the pie. I've never made one before but I figured it would be easy, which it was. Or would have been.
The first thing that happened was Chris knocked the pie plate out of the fridge, not only destroying my pre-prepared crust (it was so crumbly and perfect and buttery too, what a terrible loss) but also smashing my good Pyrex plate to smithereens. ARGHHH!!! I tried to put it behind me and bought a pre-made crust from Wal-Mart. Ugh, gross.
The next thing that happened was after spending ages squeezing, straining and zesting about 25 teeny tiny Key Limes, I realized I had no condensed milk. Crap! I could have sworn I had a can left over from Christmas! I bought some before work the next day and left it in my car, with a plan to really quickly slap this pie together, since my carefully laid plans had gone down the pooper.
I got home from work at 9:30 (yes, that's PM), and got down to it. I went to open the can of milk, which promptly exploded. Turns out it's not a good idea to leave it in the car all day when it's hot out. I ran it over to the sink so inspect the damage. Only half the contents remained. Frrrriiiigggggg. Of course that would happen. I didn't know what to do, I needed to have this pie ready that night, I had to work the next day and was going to my sister's for dinner right after work. Chris was leaving for work shortly and I couldn`t go out to get more.
I ransacked my cupboards, praying that there was something in there that I could substitute for sweetened condensed milk. Cans and cans of evaporated milk, but no condensed. And then, in the way back, there it was. That elusive can off milk that I had sworn I had left over from Christmas.
Of course.
Had I taken the extra two seconds the night before to look, none of this would ever have happened. On the plus side at least I had a story to tell.
The pie came together nicely after that. Mr. Town said it was as good as any Key Lime pie he`s had on any cruise ship, which made me feel quite proud. After all the disasters, near misses and broken Pyrex plates, I made my first Key Lime pie.
And if I didn`t keep dropping my cameras and breaking them, I would have a picture to show you.
April 18, 2011
Renter's Insurance
We've lived here for nearly a year, and we still don't have renter's insurance. I recognize how irresponsible it is, and I do know the consequences of what will happen the day I actually do burn down my kitchen and don't have insurance. A couple of things happened this week that made me realize I should get on that.
Burnin' Down the House
I have this terrible habit of turning the wrong burner on the stove. I tend to stick to the front burners and rarely use the back ones, so oftentimes I forget what I'm doing. I also have this terrible habit (I blame my mom for this one) of having to have a decorative something or other covering every surface of everything in my home. Wednesday, I was running late for work so I put my espresso on the stove and went to dry my hair. Our kitchen was still a mess from the night before because we had to bring our dog to the emergency vet (he had an ear infection, but I thought he was having a seizure, it's a whole other story. He's fine), so I had two of those decorative metal element covers and two vintage straw pot holders stacked on top of a burner. I returned from the bathroom to find my apartment FILLED with smoke. Thank God nothing was actually on fire, but had I given it five more minutes it definitely would have been.
In a panic, I ran to the patio to open the window then snatched the smoldering mess off the stove. I didn't know what to do with it, so I threw it in the bathtub and ran the water on it. Then the smoke detector started going of (at least we know it works), but I couldn't just do the "wave the towel in front of it" trick because there was no moving this smoke. I yanked it off the wall and crawled across the floor to the patio and breathed in some fresh air. I called my boss to tell her I was going to be late and tried not to suffocate.
Please keep in mind that I was in my bra and underpants the entire time. It could have been embarrassing had there actually been a fire.
I called the non-emergency fire department, woke my husband up to wait for them and went to work. I reeked like noxious smoke all day and dreaded having to go home and somehow clean up that mess. The firemen did come (with two trucks and a fire marshall, awesome.) and sucked the smoke out and I spent the evening vacuuming, laundering and scrubbing walls. It's Sunday now and finally the smoke smell has gone.
Chris made me promise that I would never ever buy those decorative element covers again. And maybe not use the stove.
Thanks For Breaking Into Our Storage Locker, Jerkfaces
On the heels of the sick dog/kitchen fire fiascoes came the discovery of our being robbed. We have a storage locker on our floor in which we put all the crap we don't want to part with but don't actually want in our home. In it was two suitcases, our wedding memorabilia, a box of my teacups and serving platters and our Rock Band set. Friday, Chris went to the storage locker to look for his golf club and discovered that the door had been removed from the locker and our Rock Band was gone. Fantastic. I know renter's insurance wouldn't cover storage locker theft, but it just reinforces the fact that I need to get on that!
On the positive side, the theft forced me to find homes for the junk that was hiding in there. Nearly three years after we got married I finally put my guestbook from our wedding together. I had the chance to read all the warm wishes from our guests and see the wonderful cards they gave us. And I finally put out all my vintage teacup, saucers and serving platters!
Burnin' Down the House
I have this terrible habit of turning the wrong burner on the stove. I tend to stick to the front burners and rarely use the back ones, so oftentimes I forget what I'm doing. I also have this terrible habit (I blame my mom for this one) of having to have a decorative something or other covering every surface of everything in my home. Wednesday, I was running late for work so I put my espresso on the stove and went to dry my hair. Our kitchen was still a mess from the night before because we had to bring our dog to the emergency vet (he had an ear infection, but I thought he was having a seizure, it's a whole other story. He's fine), so I had two of those decorative metal element covers and two vintage straw pot holders stacked on top of a burner. I returned from the bathroom to find my apartment FILLED with smoke. Thank God nothing was actually on fire, but had I given it five more minutes it definitely would have been.
In a panic, I ran to the patio to open the window then snatched the smoldering mess off the stove. I didn't know what to do with it, so I threw it in the bathtub and ran the water on it. Then the smoke detector started going of (at least we know it works), but I couldn't just do the "wave the towel in front of it" trick because there was no moving this smoke. I yanked it off the wall and crawled across the floor to the patio and breathed in some fresh air. I called my boss to tell her I was going to be late and tried not to suffocate.
Please keep in mind that I was in my bra and underpants the entire time. It could have been embarrassing had there actually been a fire.
I called the non-emergency fire department, woke my husband up to wait for them and went to work. I reeked like noxious smoke all day and dreaded having to go home and somehow clean up that mess. The firemen did come (with two trucks and a fire marshall, awesome.) and sucked the smoke out and I spent the evening vacuuming, laundering and scrubbing walls. It's Sunday now and finally the smoke smell has gone.
Chris made me promise that I would never ever buy those decorative element covers again. And maybe not use the stove.
Thanks For Breaking Into Our Storage Locker, Jerkfaces
On the heels of the sick dog/kitchen fire fiascoes came the discovery of our being robbed. We have a storage locker on our floor in which we put all the crap we don't want to part with but don't actually want in our home. In it was two suitcases, our wedding memorabilia, a box of my teacups and serving platters and our Rock Band set. Friday, Chris went to the storage locker to look for his golf club and discovered that the door had been removed from the locker and our Rock Band was gone. Fantastic. I know renter's insurance wouldn't cover storage locker theft, but it just reinforces the fact that I need to get on that!
On the positive side, the theft forced me to find homes for the junk that was hiding in there. Nearly three years after we got married I finally put my guestbook from our wedding together. I had the chance to read all the warm wishes from our guests and see the wonderful cards they gave us. And I finally put out all my vintage teacup, saucers and serving platters!
We've had a terrible week, so things can only get better from here on in. Since three very bad things happened, I'm hoping three good things will happen. Wish us luck!
March 29, 2011
Shameful Neglect
My sincerest apologies for not having written bupkis for three months. There are many excuses but the main one is that I'm terribly lazy and frequently run out of steam on things I was previously gung-ho about. Also, I broke yet another camera and I find blog posts to be pretty boring without pictures.
But worry not, my lovelies, I will be writing more soon.
xo
But worry not, my lovelies, I will be writing more soon.
xo
December 7, 2010
Snowmageddon 2010
It's finally stopped snowing, though I dare to say it. Two days of non-stop squall, I am starting to feel like I am living in a snow globe. On the plus side, I have two days off of work. On the down side, I have to days off of work. I really like to get paid, and not being able to go to work is quite a downer.
I'm still amazed at the difference between Northern Ontario drivers and Southern Ontario drivers. It's as if the minute even a flake falls from the sky, everyone here panics and starts to drive like they've just learned how. If Snowmageddon happened in Sault Ste. Marie, where I'm from, people would just say "meh", put their Sorels on and carry on about their day. I mean, the only reason I didn't go to work today was because the muffler was falling off our car and I didn't want to lose it on the long drive out to my store. If our store was open tomorrow I would definitely brave the treacherous roadways and get my tush out there. We went to Canadian Tire first thing this morning to get our muffler fixed, we're good to go.
Since I have a whole two days off, I'm going to do some major Christmas baking. I made some shortbread cookies, chocolate and peppermint cookies and chocolate thumbprint cookies the other day but they're pretty much gone. I had an order for 4 dozen cookies last week and I brought a whole whack for the girls at work. I'm going to forage in my cupboards and see what I can make out of the little ingredients I have- after all it's Snowmageddon 2010, not exactly handy for nipping out to the grocery store for some chocolate chips and coconut!
I'll let you know what I come up with.
I'm still amazed at the difference between Northern Ontario drivers and Southern Ontario drivers. It's as if the minute even a flake falls from the sky, everyone here panics and starts to drive like they've just learned how. If Snowmageddon happened in Sault Ste. Marie, where I'm from, people would just say "meh", put their Sorels on and carry on about their day. I mean, the only reason I didn't go to work today was because the muffler was falling off our car and I didn't want to lose it on the long drive out to my store. If our store was open tomorrow I would definitely brave the treacherous roadways and get my tush out there. We went to Canadian Tire first thing this morning to get our muffler fixed, we're good to go.
Since I have a whole two days off, I'm going to do some major Christmas baking. I made some shortbread cookies, chocolate and peppermint cookies and chocolate thumbprint cookies the other day but they're pretty much gone. I had an order for 4 dozen cookies last week and I brought a whole whack for the girls at work. I'm going to forage in my cupboards and see what I can make out of the little ingredients I have- after all it's Snowmageddon 2010, not exactly handy for nipping out to the grocery store for some chocolate chips and coconut!
I'll let you know what I come up with.
The Cheescake Adventure
I love cheesecake, or so I thought until I finally made one for myself. It turns out that I like a slice of cheesecake every once in awhile. It's far too rich for daily consumption, although if you asked my sister Tynna she'd be quick to disagree.
Metro had Philadelphia cream cheese buy one get one free so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to made my first real cheesecake- none of that no-bake baloney for me!
I must confess that I found this quite a difficult dessert to make. The mixing and whatnot was easy, as was making the graham cracker crust. I consulted my bible The Joy of Cooking and thoroughly read the section on cheesecakes, paying close attention to the baking methods as I really did not want my cheesecake to crack.
I baked it on a high temperature for 10 minutes as per the instructions, and then for 30 minutes or so on low. I turned the oven off, opened the door and let it cool in the oven, again as per the instructions.
Stupid cake cracked. There was a giant fissure across the top, a veritable San Andreas Fault marring the beauty of my creation. Darn it!I left it in five minutes too long. I lied earlier, it was closer to 45 minutes. I didn't trust my instincts and assumed that I knew more than the experts of Joy of Cooking. I thought that it still looked too wet and jiggly in the middle and let it bake for longer. Turns out that there is a reason they tell you to only bake it until it's firm on the edges and wet and jiggly in the middle- it's cooling in a hot oven, it's going to finish baking then! Duh. Sometimes I am such a dummy.
I disguised the crack with some canned cherry pie filling. I would have preferred chocolate ganache or caramel sauce, but Christopher loooooves cherry pie filling and I couldn't be bothered to make it from scratch. Canned filling it is! Once the topping was on, it completely disguised my mistake and despite the petite snafu, my first cheesecake was quite delicious- light and fluffy, rich and decadent. I brought a few pieces for the girls at work and Chris and I each had two pieces. I gave a third of the cake to Tynna, because she is the real cheesecake lover in this family.
Not bad Shannon, not bad at all.
Metro had Philadelphia cream cheese buy one get one free so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to made my first real cheesecake- none of that no-bake baloney for me!
I must confess that I found this quite a difficult dessert to make. The mixing and whatnot was easy, as was making the graham cracker crust. I consulted my bible The Joy of Cooking and thoroughly read the section on cheesecakes, paying close attention to the baking methods as I really did not want my cheesecake to crack.
I baked it on a high temperature for 10 minutes as per the instructions, and then for 30 minutes or so on low. I turned the oven off, opened the door and let it cool in the oven, again as per the instructions.
Stupid cake cracked. There was a giant fissure across the top, a veritable San Andreas Fault marring the beauty of my creation. Darn it!I left it in five minutes too long. I lied earlier, it was closer to 45 minutes. I didn't trust my instincts and assumed that I knew more than the experts of Joy of Cooking. I thought that it still looked too wet and jiggly in the middle and let it bake for longer. Turns out that there is a reason they tell you to only bake it until it's firm on the edges and wet and jiggly in the middle- it's cooling in a hot oven, it's going to finish baking then! Duh. Sometimes I am such a dummy.
I disguised the crack with some canned cherry pie filling. I would have preferred chocolate ganache or caramel sauce, but Christopher loooooves cherry pie filling and I couldn't be bothered to make it from scratch. Canned filling it is! Once the topping was on, it completely disguised my mistake and despite the petite snafu, my first cheesecake was quite delicious- light and fluffy, rich and decadent. I brought a few pieces for the girls at work and Chris and I each had two pieces. I gave a third of the cake to Tynna, because she is the real cheesecake lover in this family.
Not bad Shannon, not bad at all.
November 22, 2010
Making a Boob Cake
My dearest cousin is getting a breast reduction in a few days. She's been waiting years and the day has finally come. She asked me if I could make a boobie cake as she was having a party on Saturday (to which I couldn't attend because I had to work) to say good-bye to her most cumbersome breasts. I am not the best, construction-wise, at making cakes; everything I've done to this point has been pretty basic but I was up to the task of creating my first 3-D cake.
First thing I did was Google "boob cakes" (I Google everything. I can see why it is now considered an actual verb). Some naughty ones popped up, some classy ones, some cute ones. Even one of a naked woman pushing out a baby. I had a good chuckle over that one. Armed with ideas I consulted an old friend, Staci Lawton, on how to bake the "boobs". She had recently done a risque and amazing bachelor cake and is my go-to girl when I don't know how to do something. I bought a Wilton cake pan that is used to make doll cakes, and clown heads and other such things, but makes a perfect set of knockers.
The cake itself baked okay, no major catastrophes. It wasn't as chocolately as I would have liked, I'm still searching for that perfect chocolate cake recipe, but it suited its purpose. I filled the cake with vanilla pudding, whipped up some flesh coloured frosting and stacked those breast-eses on the cake.
You'll notice the left breast is a little lopsided. Just like real ones!
My cousin came to town shortly after I finished the basic construction and frosting of my masterpiece and after a fun evening of babysitting my 3 year old nephew Brady, we returned to my apartment to decorate the cake. I decided on a strapless white bra with pink polka dots because, after all, she would soon be able to wear all those cute little inexpensive bras (and I'll inherit her expensive, structural and functional bras, but that's another story).
As I was decorating, we were also making our way through a litre bottle of wine and my cousin was cleaning her dog-bitten finger. We broke out into song:
Making a boob cake, making a boooob cake, making a boob cake, making a boooob....
Cake.
Making a boob cake, making a boooob cake, cleaning a dog bite, drinking some wiiiine.
You probably had to be there.
The cake was a success, I didn't screw anything up and it made it all the way to the party in Windsor and was enjoyed by all.
I woke up with the worst wine headache of all time. My cousin and I pondered why, at the ages of 28 and 29, we have not learned to alternate water between drinks and pop a Tylenol before going to sleep (who am I kidding? Before passing out cold.)? I guess we'll never learn.
First thing I did was Google "boob cakes" (I Google everything. I can see why it is now considered an actual verb). Some naughty ones popped up, some classy ones, some cute ones. Even one of a naked woman pushing out a baby. I had a good chuckle over that one. Armed with ideas I consulted an old friend, Staci Lawton, on how to bake the "boobs". She had recently done a risque and amazing bachelor cake and is my go-to girl when I don't know how to do something. I bought a Wilton cake pan that is used to make doll cakes, and clown heads and other such things, but makes a perfect set of knockers.
The cake itself baked okay, no major catastrophes. It wasn't as chocolately as I would have liked, I'm still searching for that perfect chocolate cake recipe, but it suited its purpose. I filled the cake with vanilla pudding, whipped up some flesh coloured frosting and stacked those breast-eses on the cake.
My cousin came to town shortly after I finished the basic construction and frosting of my masterpiece and after a fun evening of babysitting my 3 year old nephew Brady, we returned to my apartment to decorate the cake. I decided on a strapless white bra with pink polka dots because, after all, she would soon be able to wear all those cute little inexpensive bras (and I'll inherit her expensive, structural and functional bras, but that's another story).
As I was decorating, we were also making our way through a litre bottle of wine and my cousin was cleaning her dog-bitten finger. We broke out into song:
The Making a Boob Cake Song
Sung to the tune of "Kill the Wabbit" as sung by Elmer Fudd to the tune of Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries"Making a boob cake, making a boooob cake, making a boob cake, making a boooob....
Cake.
Making a boob cake, making a boooob cake, cleaning a dog bite, drinking some wiiiine.
You probably had to be there.
The cake was a success, I didn't screw anything up and it made it all the way to the party in Windsor and was enjoyed by all.
I woke up with the worst wine headache of all time. My cousin and I pondered why, at the ages of 28 and 29, we have not learned to alternate water between drinks and pop a Tylenol before going to sleep (who am I kidding? Before passing out cold.)? I guess we'll never learn.
November 13, 2010
A Little Shamless Self-Promotion
It appears that people are reading my blog (yay!), however, I have no "followers" or "friends" or whatever you'd call it. It makes me feel lonely. I'm pretty technologically stupid, so I don't know how to get "friends" or "followers" or whatever you'd call it, so I am requesting the following things:
1. Advice on how to promote my blog and gather loyal followers (that sounds so creepy!)
2. Followers!
So if you're reading this, please be my friend!
1. Advice on how to promote my blog and gather loyal followers (that sounds so creepy!)
2. Followers!
So if you're reading this, please be my friend!
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