You forget to tape the Oscars.

And you’ve seen more than half the nominated movies this year. I mean, when’s the last time that happened?

I wanna grow up to be Adam Felber. Well, except for the part where I’d be him and not me and stuff. Nevertheless, he is laugh-out-loud funny and whilst I am in this black, blacker, endless funk and not in any mood to write here or anywhere else, you can go read him. I just need to say that “Those who do not seek enlightenment are going DOWN, muthafucka!” is my new mantra. Peace.

The likelihood that the person referred to in the previous entry as having become a total stranger to me is you is nil. I don’t think that person reads this blog.

You know what hurts? Realizing, after you’ve mixed the mix and baked the cupcakes, that the recipe calls for self-rising cake flour and Softasilk isn’t self-rising and what you now have are not so much cupcakes as flat, tasteless little cup-cookies.

(Yeah. Again with the self-rising flour. Only this time it’s self-rising cake flour. Would it have killed Nigella to include the measurements for non-self-rising cake flour and baking powder and salt?)

You know what hurts worse? When the daughter you’ve made said cupcakes for says, “The bakery makes better cupcakes.” Okay, sure, she’s right, but it still hurts.

(Btw: Sophia is going to be FIVE tomorrow. FIVE. I cannot believe this. Didn’t I just bring her home from the hospital? Best saying I’ve heard on this phenomenon of life with kids: “The days are long and the years are short.” Boy howdy, is that the truth.)

When designing the logo for your store, choose wisely. (Warning: contains objectionable language. For those of you that have squeaky-clean workplaces and/or minds.)