Dreams Do Come True.

I dream almost every night.  About three weeks ago, during one of the last few nights in my college dorm for the year, I had a dream.

Martin would be proud.
[via Praise Cleveland]

I made brownies.  Brownies with fudge in the batter.  Brownies with solid milk chocolate in the middle.  Brownies with swirls of peanut butter.  And Nutella.  Brownies baked to perfection. 

Last night, this dream came true.

These glorious brownies are sinful.  They make your mouth water.  They make you crave an ice-cold glass of 2%.  

These brownies are going to make me look like this.
[via Smosh]

I have to stop thinking about them.  There are some chillin' in my fridge right now and all I want to do is pounce.  I want to pounce on these delicious morsels like a hungry lion wants to pounce on a gazelle.

Mind you, these brownies are not healthy for you, AT ALL.

Oh HELL yes.

Yeah, you've got some brownie mix ('cuz I'm lazy), 6 chocolate bars, creamy peanut butter and Nutella.  

Eve's Salivation Meter: Salivary glands producing same amount as usual.

So you mix the batter (and then I added a secret ingredient that ensures absolute deliciousness).  I can't tell you the secret or else I won't be coveted for these.  Without it though, they're still pretty damn delicious.

Cover the baking pan in foil and pour HALF of the batter into the pan.

Like so.

Next, unwrap 6 Hershey's milk chocolate bars and place them on the batter.  I hate this.  My kitchen was an inferno and my chocolate was melting upon contact of my hands.  Kill me.  I prevailed and it was magnificent.  My hands were covered in chocolate though. I didn't mind...I had me a lil' snack. Mmmm.

It's like a delicious candy boardwalk of happiness.

Eve's Salivation Meter: Salivary glands begin to feel some stress.  Swallowing rate is doubled from increase in saliva in mouth.

Here's where it gets funky.  Incredibly awesomely deliciously funky.  Get one of the biggest spoons in your house.  Dip it in a jar of peanut butter. Repeat 2 more times.  Put all of that peanutty goodness in a bowl AND MICROWAVE THAT SHIZ.  Microwave it until it's basically a liquid.  Liquid peanut butter is a temptress in its own.  Oh the perfection that is peanut butter!  Anywho, pour it all up on that chocolate and make sure that you've covered it completely.  It's okay to moan at this point.

Oh my god...

Eve's Salivation Meter: Mouth unable to keep everything in check.  Body starts to go into panic mode.  Slight drooling begins to compensate for inability to swallow the incredible amount of saliva produced.

Take another spoon of decent size.  Plunge it into the nearest jar of Nutella.  Avoid the natural urge to eat the entire spoonful.  Instead, put the Nutella in a bowl and repeat once more.  You should have about half the amount of Nutella as you did with the peanut butter.  MICROWAVE.  Marvel.  Do this until it's almost a liquid.  Drizzle that shizzle all nice and good on the peanut butter.  Artfully swirl it together until basically mixed.  Place a shield between yourself and the brownies to avoid getting drool in the batter.  Oh is that just me?  Whoops.

Please give me the strength to not eat all of this right now.

Eve's Salivation Meter: A steady stream of saliva is exiting the mouth.  Eve appears dazed and in a dream.  No words escape from the mouth.  She appears as if to be madly in love.

Guys...I can't even handle this right now.  FINAL STEP.  So remember how you only poured half of that luscious chocolatey brownie batter into the pan?  Take the rest of that and pour it on the Nutella.  Get all of that batter and mound it on top.  Take no prisoners.  Spread it until it's perfect and gaze at your masterpiece.  

My life is complete.

Bake your marvelous creation until the toothpick comes out slightly clean.  Remember that you've got solid milk chocolate that melts completely when heated to 350 degrees.  So go with your gut.

Eve's Salivation Meter: The world record for salivation has been set.  The equivalent of what Niagara Falls produces in two hours has emerged from her mouth since the Nutella was heated.  Her parents abandoned her and called her an abomination.  All hope of full recovery has been lost.

The wait time is excruciating.  These damn brownies made my house smell like a combination of puppy breath, chocolate, pure happiness, a lavender field and the hope that someday everyone in the United States will learn how to recycle.  Basically, my kitchen smelled like everything good in this world and it was one of the best moments of my life.  I closed my eyes and I felt like I was floating.

But with this amazing smell comes a dark side.

My stomach started roaring.  My mouth was salivating beyond anything I had ever experienced.  I kept opening the oven, impatiently waiting for my dream brownies to be finished.  The fetal position was assumed.

And 35ish minutes later, I was granted my wish.  I took them out of the oven to cool.  When the pan wasn't hot anymore, I flipped the brownies onto a cutting board.  They slid right out of the pan, because they had the foil lining.  Otherwise, with my luck that would've never happened.  NEVER.  So then you start peeling off the foil.

It was like Christmas.

The best part is cutting the brownies.  Once they're room temperature, cut them to your desired size.  The rehardened chocolate in the middle crunches beneath the weight of the sharp knife.  Mmm.  That's when I know that these brownies are going to make me gain ten pounds.  That's when I know that I've done good.

Cut them up and serve them to your friends.  Watch them eat and marvel at the looks you receive in return.  True love is what comes to mind.  Prepare to be worshipped, friends.

I love my inner conscious.

So folks, dreams do come true.  And if you ever have a dream about food, MAKE IT YOUR DUTY TO FOLLOW THROUGH. Because I did...and now I feel like I'm dreaming because these brownies are effing magical.  

Celebratin' Amurica.

Happy Memorial Day everyone!

What a day.  Whenever there's a holiday, our house is where it's at.  We had some extended family over, I had a few friends come over, and Dorothy decided that her little band of hooligans needed to come over at 9:30 in the morning.  I'm all for three or four people over...but nine? Nine hoodlums takin' up my sunbathing grass.  Nine hoodlums eatin' my delicious food.  NINE HOODLUMS STEALING ALL OF THE CHEESECAKE AUNT SASQUATCH MADE.  Come on people! Don't mess with me and my cheesecake.

It's a love affair.
[via Party in the Pasty]

Ree-diculous.  I'm over it.  Anywho, as usual Mommycakes made enough food to feed Afghanistan and as usual 20 people consumed it all.  My tummy hates me.  Alas.

I have to say, it was a gorgeous day.  Sunny, a few puffy white clouds to break up the cerulean blue of the sky.  The trees in the backyard were greener than ever and it looked like we were in a snowglobe.  But why a snowglobe?  Silly you, it's because of the Poplar tree in my backyard.

OH MY GOD THE POPLARS.

Sweet baby Jesus I hate this Poplar tree that's in our backyard.  EVERY SINGLE YEAR around Memorial Day, this tree just decides that it needs to disperse it's damn seeds.  It wouldn't be so bad if there weren't thousands of seeds.  THOUSANDS.  Perhaps even millions.

And they all look like little bundles of snow.
[via Wikipedia]

It looked like it was snowing.  As if we don't get enough snow.  Summer's supposed to be filled with snow-free fun.  Why must it look like it's snowing in May?! Because the world hates me, that's why.

Oh not to mention that these seeds like to gravitate towards your open drinks, food, nose, and mouth.  They just love to sneak right on into your hair and form little groups of cotton-like seeds around your toes.

PS I'm terrified of cotton balls.

Did I mention that I hate that Poplar tree?

[via Smosh]

Alas.  It is what it is.  But anyway, it was so sunny out! If it wasn't for those stupid seeds, it would've been the perfect day.  I wore a new shirt that I bought a few days ago - it's a racerback.  Little Miss over here didn't put sunblock on and ended up getting a pretty intense burn.  I've been so sunburnt so many times it doesn't even hurt anymore, but from the looks of it...it's probably a 7 or 8 out of 10.  I'm radiating heat from my back...

That's about right.
[via Google]

But it was so hot out I had to hose down my beloved five or six times.  Gary just gets so warm in that darn sun... He starts panting and his tongue just lags all down his face.  Oh Gary, sometimes I wish you would just learn to love the pool like the rest of us.

Or at least love being hosed down like this dog. Jeez.
[via HubPages]

Also, I just took my crack brownies out of the oven.  The house smells like heaven.  I'm in heaven.

It's been a great day.  I love holidays with the fam, even when people steal my cheesecake.  It's been filled with perfect food, perfect friends, and the absolute most perfect pooch of all time.

Apples Don't Fall Far From the Tree

I have to admit, I'm an odd lady.  I don't know how I came to be, but seriously I can't even understand it.

I think it all comes down to who raised me.  My parents are ridiculous.  I can't even put them in words, because words don't give them justice.

Here's the family dynamic:
Mom (Colleen): Awesome.  Amazing chef.  Typical outfit includes no bra, hair half up in pony tail and half not, sweatpants, a stained t-shirt or sweatshirt, white crew socks and Adidas sandals.  She looks like a hot mess and couldn't care less.  I did not intend to rhyme, but it happened.  Just call meh Tupac.  I love my mom so much.  I'm turning into her more and more each day, which scares the hell out of me.

Dad (John): Awesome.  I think my father is literally one of the funniest men alive.  Maybe it's because we have the same personality, but he can always make me laugh.  My dad has six or seven tattoos and used to ride a Harley at one point, but sold it to buy a backyard fence to keep us then-toddlers in line.  What a guy. His hands are as big as baseball gloves and I've never seen him lose an arm wrestling contest.  I'm also turning into my dad as each day passes.  I can't decide if I'm more afraid to become my mom or dad the most...

Sistah (Dorothy): Semi-awesome (most certainly not as cool and hip as me).  She plays volleyball and is pretty damn good at it.  She gets candy from her coach every time she hits an opponent in the face.  She loves it though, mostly because she's a little demon.  I love my sister, I really do.  BUT DEAR LORD.  When we were little tikes, she would go around terrorizing me.  I was always running from danger.

Kinda like this little chickiepoo

Because even though she was smaller than me, she could still pack one serious punch. Or bite. OR STAB. Whichever she felt like that day.

Then there's the extended family, which I can't even begin to get into.  There's just too many of them...

Honestly though, I love being away at college.  It's great to feel independent.  But here's one thing I didn't realize until I moved away: my family is kickass.  Seriously.  And I didn't know how great they are until I visited for a weekend.  You see, I think I became used to their antics while living with them because it's the norm.  But leaving for weeks or months at a time...everything became ten times funnier to watch.

Guys, it's storytime.
I think this was around February of this year.  My roommate (who grew to love my family despite the fact that my sister greeted her for the first time with a fart instead of a hello) and I went to my house for the weekend.  I don't live very far from where I go to college, so it wasn't really a hassle to get home.  My mom got BOSS tickets to go see RENT at the local theater, and I was pumped.


The snow's whipping and it's dark out.  My mom, one of her friends, my roommate, and I drive into Downtown and park in a sketchy lot.  We parked under a streetlight because apparently it would ward off muggers, at least that's what my mom said.  So we go to pay and you have to slide dollar bills into slits with your parking number on them.  I'm not really sure how efficient this was, but can I just say that IT TOOK TEN DAMN MINUTES TO PUT TWO DOLLARS INTO THIS SLIT?! Come on.  Obviously somebody coughmomcough didn't learn how to properly fold dollar bills in kindergarten like the rest of us.

Fiasco #1: Solved.

So we successfully cross the street and climb over the mountains/snowbanks riddled through the town and enter the actual building.  Piano was playing softly in the background, people were mingling, and I had to pee.  Bad.  So I get in the bathroom line while my mom, Kay (her friend) and my roommate talked.  I eventually join them and we were laughing about the most random things when all of a sudden, my mother gives me the most terrified look.  "I think my toe just went through my sock."

Dear lord.

She went to the bathroom to investigate if her toe did indeed puncture her sock and form a hole while the three of us laughed louder than any of us probably ever has.  Luckily, her sock was still 100% intact.  Obviously a work of a higher power because that woman's feet can get gnarly.

Fiasco #2: Averted.

Moving on.  So we go on up the stairs to sit in the balcony (front row) and my mom takes one look and just loses it.  Her hands clammed up and she demanded that I felt them, she closed her eyes, and told us that she needed to sit somewhere else.  It is what it is.  Some people don't enjoy heights and others relish in it.

So the kind usher takes her soaking hand and escorts her downstairs.  We watch her get seated...in the handicap section of the theater.  This doesn't sound funny, but the woman was smashed between a bunch of geezers.  We watched her try to socialize with them and roflcoptered.  It was really funny.

Fiasco #3: Finished.

I think being able to watch the play and watch my mother's reaction to RENT was the highlight of that weekend for me.  There was an unexpected...um, kinda naughty scene.  Let me just say that watching the shock in my mother's eyes on the other side of the theater made everything worth while.  Lord.

A ton of other things happened that night too, and honestly it probably wasn't funny to you at all.  I enjoyed reminiscing.

On a side note, I discovered that I went to high school with a dude who has a glass eye. WOAH.  I didn't think people like that really existed...

Another side note.  If you mix ginger ale and orange juice together, it kinda tastes like pineapple juice.  Oh and it looks like pineapple juice.  I'm convinced that I've been lied to my whole life.

IT LOOKS EXACTLY THE SAME. 

Products of Boredom

I've never written a blog before.  I've never even considered it.  Blogging is something middle-aged women do between shuttling their kids to and from soccer practice.  Let me tell you something - I am most certainly not middle aged, nor do I have children.

BUT. It's summertime and I'm home from college.  I have a full time job as a receptionist and that is literally my life.  Ugh.  I'm also the kind of lady that gets way too much sleep...so my social life is sacrificed for a pillow. Alas.

Me + Boredom = Reading pleasure like you've never even known.

So I guess this is when I tell you about myself... The name's Eve.  I'm also called God by others, simply because I'm that great.  I live with my sister (who currently has a little boytoy), and my parents.  And my dog.

Oh my dog.  His name is Gary (named after the snail in Spongebob).  Gary is the absolute love of my life.  If loving animals more than humans is wrong, I don't want to be right.  He's the gayest man-dog I have yet to meet, which just makes me love this creature even more.

                           How the hell do you not love that? It's impossible.

ANYWHO.  I'm a college student, majoring in environmental science and looking to go to medical school.  I just like helping people, ya dig?  Can't get enough of it.  It's my giant heart...

If only I can get over my fear of cotton balls....

Cooking is something I really love to do.  I'm planning on making some SINFUL brownies this weekend.  Seriously, you have no idea how long I've waited to make these mofos.  Just think of everything good in this world and cover it, NAY, submerge it, in delicious chocolate and rainbows.  Those are how these brownies are going to taste.

Other interests include eating mass amounts of watermelon, dreaming about the day I eat a mangosteen, petting Gary, occasional impromptu street brawls, chewing gum, and traveling to faraway lands.  There are other things too, I just find it hard to think of them all at once.  Why my brain can't function normally shall forever remain a mystery.

But in all honesty, I have absolutely no effing clue why I'm doing this.  It's probably a subconscious desire to get early arthritis from all of this typing.  How my body hates itself.  I hope that people laugh and learn from this blog, as you will see that I know a lot about nothing.  Oh how you have yet to see.