I made that.

{Happy Birthday Thelma!}

Yum!!

Double Chocolate Pudding Pie!

Bottom Layer:  White Chocolate Pudding
Top Layer:  Regular Chocolate Pudding
Drizzle:  Melted Peanut Butter Chip Drizzle
Chocolate Whipped Cream decoration

All together, Win.

Laters, Baby.

Fifty Shades of Gray.  Ever heard of it? No?  Well, what rock have you been living under, because only a recluse or someone on the run wouldn't have gotten their hands on a copy of this verbose example of fan fiction run amok. 

Honestly, the only reason that I picked up a copy of this book was because everyone, and I mean everyone, that I have talked to in the last three months have ranted and raved about how this book needs to be read.  I finally succumbed to peer pressure and broke down and bought a copy on my Nook.  What I have to say about it is this:  wait for the movie. 

Actually, if you're into erotic fiction, you may want to pick the first book up and help yourself to some fantasy. This book borders on the edge of the line between acceptable fantasy and oh-my-god-my-mother-would-kill-me-if-she-knew-I-owned-this... Well, not my mother.  My mother would be rolling over in her grave trying to get my attention, probably saying something like, "Can you read it to me out loud?" or "There was that one time in college."  (She was a character all her own.)

 I've made it through Fifty Shades of Gray and Fifty Shades Darker, but I had to stop because I had major issues with Ms. Steele's whiny-bitch-attitude.  Everytime I turned the page, there was another scene in which she wondered if he was going to leave her, and while that was a valid question at the beginning of book one, there was no need for it through the end of book two.  I thought that was obvious, but who am I?

The other problem with this is that there were certain times in which I found myself ridiculously turned on by the words on the page, and for me this is a problem.  I am a lesbian, being substantially turned on by a MALE, FICTIONAL character.  I've got friends starting to doubt my sexuality from the comments I've been making.  Heck, *I'm* starting to question my sexuality based on where my errant thoughts have been going this week!  Thank goodness for my girlfriend, Helen, because otherwise I might really be in trouble.  (Helen got a shout out! tee hee hee.)

Anywho. I'm just wondering what you guys out there on the interwebs thought of this series.  Can anyone convince me to bother buying the third on the trilogy?  Is there anything redeeming in Fifty Shades Freed?  I trust you, weblings.  Give me the goods, will ya?!

Laters baby.

Hi, my name is Valerie, and I'm an addict.

No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you – tis I, Sunshine, back from the great beyond (aka, my job, the Land of the Soul-Sucking Old, and adulthood).

I’ve only just managed to break free from the proverbial chains which bind me to my plight.  Who knows how long I’ll have before they notice I’ve escaped, so without further ado, I’d like to present to you an interesting development that I’ve recently discovered about myself during and throughout my adventures.

I am a grocery store junkie.

Honest to blog, I’ve come to realize that I am addicted to the grocery store.  I find myself there at least once a day, whether it’s for food for work, simple necessities that I’ve forgotten during the week, or for a sale that makes me so excited, I feel like Macguiver on Super Market Sweep.
Last week, as I was regaling Helen Keller with my life stories, catching up, what have you, I remembered that there was a sale the day before on Arizona Iced Teas (you know the ones, .99 cents for the large cans that are an excellent deal in and of themselves??). They were on sale 2 for $1 (!!!!!).  I was extremely excited.  I decreed, after we had finished our frozen yogurt, that we needed to venture to the grocery store, so that I might stock up on them while they were so cheap. Who could possibly turn down a BOGO event?!

(Buy one, get one, for those of you who don’t know.)

(She laughed at me and told me that I needed to get out more if this was going to be the highlight of my week, which it was.)

I didn’t realize that I had a problem until Helen laid out for me that I grocery store hop between three different ones in connecting towns. Acme is closest to my house and convenient when I need to get something for home.  Stop & Shop has pistachio muffins that are to die for, and a great salad bar, but is inconvenient to get to when I’m on my lunch break.  Kings Grocery store has a salad bar as well; it’s not as cheap as S&S, but it’s closer, and I’m able to get there on my break and get back in time to actually eat said lunch.  However, the downside to Kings is that a boy asked me out there (in front of his friend, which was awkward) and I turned him down (not so politely, but then again, that wouldn’t be my style) and now I feel a little awkward every time I run in to him, but that’s a story for another day.  I digress.

As if being addicted to grocery stores wasn’t bad enough, I’ve discovered that this disease is HEREDITARY, passed down from the male line.  As far as I can tell, it has only made an appearance in my family’s family tree since my father’s generation, but I’m sure it will run rampant as the branches continue to grow.

Wheel Alignment Bullshit

I'm the kind of person that, when the car is making a weird noise, will turn up the radio and pretend it's not there, until such time as the car explodes or something goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Tee hee hee. ::blushes::

Whatever.

So, I've had a slow leak in one of my tires for a few weeks... months... ummm some time now, and my dad finally made me and I finally decided to buy new tires.  They had a deal, buy three, get one free.  I thought this was great.

I was not prepared for the 64 effing dollar *wheel alignment* that will "prevent your tires from wearing unevenly".

For those of you like me who didn't know, there are 3, count 'em, 3 (!!!) types of alignments (according to tirerack.com, whatever the hell that is) and it effects the suspension and steering systems (duh, like I couldn't guess that one on my own).

COME ON, PEEPS.  WHAT THE EFF IS THAT BULLSHIT ABOUT?

Honestly, what are they going to do, put my tires on crooked?  Wouldn't you think that a wheel alignment would come STANDARD with replacing not one, not two, not three, but ALL the goddamn* tires? Unreal.  My dad I just dropped a significant amount of money, and they have to swindle us out of more.  That is unreal and unfair, and boy if I were someone else, I would have told them off.

I should write a strongly worded letter.
---
*I should probably stop cursing God, because even though my dad got me a pass, I'm sure it can be taken away.

If you want to know what I'm talking about, check out this post right here.

So then I said...

I don't really have a whole lot to update because nothing exciting is going on in my life (which isn't really far from the usual, Peeps, as you loyal followers already know).  However, in the last few days I've had some great conversations (in person as well as via text) and felt I NEEDED to share them with you.

***
Dad: I'm hungry, but it's Lent. Can't eat meat, it's Friday.
Val:  Why do you follow that stupid rule anyway?
Dad: Valerie, it's not stupid.
Val: Your people aren't going to let me into your Heaven, so I'm not following the rules.
Dad: You're going to Heaven.
Val: They don't let my kind in there.
Dad:  I got you a pass. You're going.

***

L: I want to be part of a drag show.
Val:  You already look like a dude.
L:  I know, but it's different.
Val:  How is it different?
L:  Well, they draw mustaches on you, and side burns.
Val: You. Already. Look. Like. A. Dude.  To be part of a drag show, you'd need to wear a dress.
L: I am not wearing a dress; I want to be a drag KING.
Val:  That's like going to a masquerade ball and not wearing a mask!  Idiot.
L:  You just don't understand.
Val:  No, you just don't understand that I'm right.
L: Right.

***

Val: Um, I just got tipsy with my uncle and my sister at a bar.
Susie: Um, can I just tell you that I spilled the blue lava lamp juice on the floor... BFF's mom is going to kill me.
Val: OMG.
Susie:  I know.
(The next day.)
Susie: BFF and I should become professional carpet cleaners.

***
Missvalsunshine, offending the masses since 1985.

Buttercream Wishes and Piggy Bank Dreams

Yep -- You read it right.  This week Val challenged herself to the small endeavor of learning how to Cake Decorate (along with the help, patience, and guidance of her favorite up-and-coming Cake Decorator, Caroline, owner and proprietor of Cakes by Caroline).

I baked them the night before - I was dedicated!

I carted them wrapped in tinfoil across half the state of NJ and into NY State.

Car doesn't fuck around - she's got tools!

I did the grass.  It's not as easy as she made it out to be. 

We ended up with a menagerie of Piggy Bank cupcakes (which may or may not have saved my ass from getting many tickets after being pulled over that day) and everyone thought I bought them at the bakery.

Obviously after we were finished, it was time to get silly with the Icing.

Finally, this is how I carted them home... no judging!

All in all, it was an awesome experience, one I'm super excited to replicate again, and it was with an amazing friend with the patience of a saint. <3

Anyone in the Tri-State area wanting or needing a cake should definitely contact Caroline.  http://www.facebook.com/Cakes.By.Carolinee

My Heart's a Stereo.

I dreamed of you last night.

I knew it was a dream the minute I saw what you were wearing: a Yankees hoodie and a Red Sox baseball hat, and in what reality would that ever happen? 

Right, I thought not.

You huffed and puffed around some train station parking lot on the way to a game, fuming that your sister invited me along, steam billowing out your ears.  My subconscious took a little satisfaction in that, I have to admit. 

Even my sleeping brain knows that I'm missing my friend, and the pleasure I used to take in torturing you relentlessly. 

You asked me, before our friendship finally deteriorated, why I hadn't yet trashed you on my blog, and I gave you an answer.  The truth, though, is not as simple as I had let on, but the context remains the same. 

I love you.  

You're a pain in the ass.  You know it, I know it, and if the rest of the world could know you, they'd know it, too.  I've never had any misgivings about the person you are, and you never changed yourself once from the beginning.  You came as is.

I love you, and I had from the beginning, though it took until after the end to realize what kind of love it truly was.  You were part of my life, maybe not for a long time, but it's quality not quantity, and I have a hole in some kind of part of me that is still empty, because it was one that you used to fill.  Was it romantic love, no not really; I think it was more than that. It was knowing that I had an honest friend, a person who I could count on to listen, cheer me up, and laugh with me. It was having someone share my secrets, understand my weird, random, eccentric thoughts and not judge me on them.  

You decided that it would be easier (for you, I'm assuming, since you didn't really give me any options whatsoever) if we didn't talk anymore.  It killed me. It tore me up inside, because the only person I've wanted to call and talk to is the one who wants nothing to do with me anymore. 

I hope this is turning out just how you wanted.  I'll miss you, and so you know, I've still never let you down.  

Just sayin'.