ice cream, i will run to you.

Today I bought new running shoes. And then I bought a half gallon of Maine Blueberry Cheesecake ice cream. And another half gallon of vanilla ice cream. And a pint of coffee ice cream. I think I may have a problem. 

Ice cream holds a very special place in my heart.
A place way up between the spots filled by fluffy bunnies and my grandparents. 

I've recently realized that the only reason I work out is so that I can eat more ice cream. Is it bad that I may or may not live for ice cream? I eat it every night, and sometimes for breakfast, because frozen yogurt is the same as regular yogurt, just frozen. Fact. It even have "live and active cultures" to help with my digestion, because we all know I need it after the massive amounts of ice cream I consume. It's almost as thoughtful as it is delicious!

These happy little guys want to make me regular!

Who cares if I have to run 7 miles so that I can eat numerous servings every day? Who cares if I eat small dinners so that I can save room in my stomach for multiple scoops of frozen goodness? Who cares if I could take down the entire gallon and a pint that I bought tonight in one sitting?  I'll tell you who. The San Francisco Creamery Co. cares. That's who. And why should they care about a girl from the Midwest who loves ice cream? Because they have an ice cream competition that I will dominate..1 hour, 3 bananas, 8 scoops of ice cream, 8 servings of toppings, mounds of whipped cream, toasted almonds and cherries. Bring. It. On.

Is that supposed to be a lot of ice cream?

Apparently no girls have ever finished this challenge, and I'm planning on being the first.  For my toppings, I'm going to get quadruple caramel, double hot fudge, and double butterscotch. And sprinkles. Not the chocolate kind, but the colorful kind. For my training, I will continue to eat gallons of ice cream in one sitting. Sure, you may have to drag my bloated stomach from the premises afterward, but I will finish. And you will be proud. (Can you tell that my roomie and I sit around watching Man vs. Food, mumbling to ourselves how we could finish each challenge? Well, we do and we could. I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed about that...)


And for the record, the Maine Blueberry Cheesecake flavor is phenomenal. Think blueberry cheesecake flavored ice cream, chunks of pie crust and blueberry syrup swirls. Yes, I will probably finish it all tonight.


Dear Ice Cream,
I love you.
Forever yours,
Julie

confessions.

I have some confessions to make. But just to prove I'm normal, I will provide supporting evidence for each juicy, personal disclosure. I AM NORMAL!


1) I've recently started listening to country music. I know, some of you will be proud of me and the rest of you may never speak to me again, but there is just something about nice weather that makes me want to listen to guitars and banjos. Actually, I could listen to banjo music any time. I love banjos. Not only do they make music perfect enough for the ears of angels, but Kermit the Frog also plays one.

Try and tell me you don't like banjos now. Just try.

And Steve Martin.

Yeah, he actually plays the banjo. In real life. Look how happy and content he is! And he's also wearing a Peace Corps shirt. Doesn't get any better than that.

And squirrels.

Yeah, they actually play the banjo, too.

And my friend Alex.

He's good. And I don't just think that because we're friends.

I've also found that country stations don't play as many commercials, which is a big plus in my book.

2) In the past two days, I've eaten, among other things, two boxes of cheddar jack Cheez-Its. Now, there is no way you can convince me that's not disgusting. I know. It's sick. I just discovered they existed the other night at work, so I immediately went out to get some. Then they were on sale at Hyvee. So I bought two boxes and devoured them. I almost opened a box before I even checked out, like when moms open things to feed their screaming children while they're shopping. That was almost me, except I'm not a mom or a screaming child so I held back until I got to the parking lot. They're just that good. Trust me. This guy likes them as much as I do.

This is me. Only I'm smaller, female and I have curly hair.

And so does this hamster.

No one is judging you, little guy. Eat your heart out.

And this girl.

Those are Cheez-It nails. I think I should probably be her friend.

3) I love to search for jobs online. I don't know why, but I do. And I also really like to apply for jobs. Sure, I haven't gotten one yet. I haven't even gotten an interview for anything yet, but at least I'm having a great time searching and applying, right? Normally, I wake up every morning, brew some coffee, eat my fiber bagel with cream cheese (I love fiber) and apply for a job or two. But I'm not the only one. These people love job searching, too.

Wearing suits. Getting jobs. Jumping. Loving life.

And this dog.

I was wondering where he was made. That's where I was made, too! We have so much in common!

And this guy.

Gotta love the classifieds. If you don't find a job, at least you might find a puppy.

4) I'm really glad each confession had a semi-creepy picture of an animal doing something out of the ordinary. You're welcome. Here's one more for good measure.

Is that bunny wearing a tutu? Perfect.

oh seamonkeys.

I have a car. It's red. I got it from my grandpa. I call it Seamonkey. And it has a flat tire.  I would like to venture out on a limb and say that I am the world's worst car owner. I forget to check fluids. I don't remember when I need an oil change. And I drive all around town with a flat tire. And by flat, I mean flat. Not semi-slow-leaking flat. I mean tire-flapping-on-the-road-driving-on-the-rim flat.  Why did I think the weird flapping sounds and smells of burning rubber just meant that my car was too cold? Why didn't I realize that meant I was literally driving on the rim of my tire? There are no answers.

No, this is not my car, but it is red. And it does have a flat tire like mine.

This is why I need to live somewhere with public transportation.


Also, I painted my nails the other day. No big deal, right? I paint my nails pretty much every day. Well, for some reason I decided to paint them ON my computer. I thought that I had succeeded in keeping things clean, but I just found a spot of neon pink on my command key. Oh well, at least it's a pretty color. Maybe I should just paint that whole button neon pink. It will be just like middle school when it was cool to paint your lunch card with glittery nail polish. Those were the good days...when I didn't have a car to take care of and people didn't judge me for painting my belongings with glitter.

corn dog bouquets.

Today, my sister brought me a corn-dog. Which automatically places this day among the greatest days of all time. It was inspirational, to say the least. It made me realize that I would do just about anything for a corn-dog. Seriously, if you want a straight path to my heart, give me a corn dog. 

I want to go to there.

Apparently, people will even kill for corn dogs. I just found this article from St. Louis where a kid literally shot his friend because he spilled a plate of corn dogs. I'm not saying that I would shoot anyone over a corn dog, but I am saying I would definitely be upset if a friend dropped a plate of corn dogs on the ground.

Corn dogs are serious business. Especially in St. Louis.

The sweet corn bread. The deep fried hot dog. The little bit of crunchy that gets left on the stick when you finish so you have to gnaw it off. There's nothing better. In fact, I think that the perfect gift would probably be a Corn Dog Bouquet. And to make this idea even more delicious, IT HASN'T BEEN INVENTED YET! I googled it and it does not exist! My grammy always tells me we need to come up with an invention that will make us millions, and I think this is it. 


Think about it. You're sitting on your couch eating a boring, not-as-good, regular hot dog, when the doorbell rings. At first you're annoyed because, who are we kidding, it's annoying to have to get up and go to the door when you're about to start eating. So you go to the door and there is a man holding a bouquet. A bouquet made of corn dogs. And he's singing a little corn dog jingle. And your heart starts to beat a little faster. Not because it anticipates all the corn dog that's about to clog your arteries and not because the delivery boy is dreamy (fact: all Corn Dog Bouquet delivery boys shall be dreamy). It's because you're in love. In love with a crispy, deep fried bouquet of heaven (as well as the guy who sent it). So, in what seems like slow motion, you reach out and wrap your arms around the one thing you've been dreaming about for approximately forever. A bouquet of corn dogs. And at that moment, and for the span of time while you're shoving corn dogs down your throat and before you start to feel like death from eating too many corn dogs, you're happy. And you know that everything is going to be okay, because you have a stomach full of corn dogs and someone who loves you enough to send you a Corn Dog Bouquet. 

This is how happy you will be when you get your bouquet. 

Grammy and I are going to be rich! Seriously.

yes, we do need the calories.

Today is a snow day. What does that mean, you may wonder? Well, aside from the blizzardy, thundersnow that is debilitating the midwest, it means that I'm going to bake. A lot. Because when the weather gets bad, that's what Julie's do. We bake.

So, I started my baking-palooza with an Avocado Pound Cake. I know that sounds pretty gross to many of you, but don't knock it until you try it. Plus, I'm going to count it as healthy because it has an avocado in it. Everything with avocado in it is healthy. Fact.

Then, I moved on to Yukon Gold Cinnamon Rolls. Now, let me tell you a little something about these cinnamon rolls:

1) They are from Bon Appetit which means they take for-ev-er. Seriously, why does Bon Appetit feel that every recipe should take a minimum of 4 hours? Is that really necessary? Couldn't there be an easier way to make melt-in-your mouth, calorie-filled, oozing cinnamon rolls with vanilla glaze? Probably not, but it took me 3.5 hours to make them this morning. Luckily, I love to bake and I had nothing better to do.

2) Yeast makes me uncomfortable. I don't know what it is about it, but it really bothers me. There is something about the smell, the foaming, and the fact that it is actually thousands of little organisms that live in the baking aisle of the grocery store.

Sure, this may look like a cappuccino. But it's not. It's foaming yeast.

You don't have to tell me. I already know. Yeast is gross. I'm literally gagging right now.

3) The recipe told me that it would make 12 cinnamon rolls. So obviously I doubled it thinking I would get 24 rolls out of it. However, the recipe failed to mention that by "12 cinnamon rolls" it actually meant "thousands of cinnamon rolls." Well, that may be an exaggeration. It made 68. How did 24 cinnamon rolls turn into 68? I have no earthly idea. I mean, I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong. There's nothing I love more than having 6 pans of cinnamon rolls in my kitchen. But, if you're in the neighborhood, please stop by and get some. I've already eaten 3 and I'm on an extreme sugar overload.

4) I'm not sure if I miscalculated the amount of flour I should add or if the recipe is very wrong in it's calculation. In defense of the recipe, I have a problem with measuring things. It all stems from the fact that I'm very easily distracted. If I don't add everything all at once, with no distractions, I always forget how much I have added. Always. But, I probably had to add about 2 extra cups of flour to the dough. That seems like a lot to me. But anyway, if you come to my house and see me holding a measuring utensil, DO NOT TALK TO ME. Unless you want incorrect proportions of ingredients in your baked goods.

5) Potatoes + cinnamon + brown sugar = heaven in a 9x13inch pan.

Tonight I'm eating steak and tomorry I'm going to bake Rosemary Black Pepper Soft Pretzels with Stout Mustard Cheese Sauce. I love snow days.