cake

Life is hard work, and I think we all know this with varying degrees of certainty. It’s grueling, it’s relentless, it’s at times unforgiving, and it is always a damn hustle. So if you want a piece of coffee cake, get that cake, girl.

Rosa made a chocolate cake with cinnamon and pecans that still haunts my dreams and my tastebuds, 20 years later. Here, I've tried to recreate it.

And so I slid the scale to the back of my closet, started freely eating doughnuts when I craved doughnuts, and simply donated the jeans that stopped fitting instead of holding out hope for them.

And so I slid the scale to the back of my closet, started freely eating doughnuts when I craved doughnuts, and simply donated the jeans that stopped fitting instead of holding out hope for them.

Recipe Notice: These are tricky.

It's Aunt Ginger's birthday!

We celebrated our six-week date-a-versary on Lance's birthday. All he wanted was to binge-watch Scrubs and cuddle and eat cake in bed. If there was any question that he was my soulmate before that moment, it was laid to rest. We stayed in bed, watched TV, and ate cake. It was pretty magical, if I'm honest.

I talked to you about the scale last week. It’s a tool I’ve proven that I will use to punish myself. I said I wouldn’t weigh myself. I said numbers don't matter. And then I broke my promise to you. I made the same promise face-to-face with my oldest and dearest friend — a pinky-swear. I broke that one, too.