Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

Just something that the east coast does to me, makes me forget who I am

I am a seriously awesome girlfriend. I'm just throwing that out there - modesty to the wind and all that. I'm not claiming to be Rachel Knauss or anything. I mean, she got a certificate and everything!

I am, however, pretty slick. Here is just a small sampling of the cool things I do for my man:

  • Throw out expired food from his refrigerator and only mildly mock him for having three year old butter while I do it.
  • Arm him with coffee and fresh cherry pie* in the morning, the better to face his day.
  • Consult on his soon-to-be-legendary iPhone app.
  • Take him to the emergency room.
  • Make regular pick-up and drop-off airport runs.

If I weren't a pastry chef, btw, the anti-feminism of those first two would make me punch myself in the nose. However, since food is my art and not something I do because of my gender, I'm going to let it slide.

*I am not using cherry pie as a euphemism. I really make cherry pie for breakfast.

Where was I going with this? Oh, right.

The boy came over to help me decorate a cake that I'm making for his nephew. It does happen to be a Barney cake, and it does happen to be pretty cool. It was, interestingly enough, made with the assistance of three not-as-small-as-I-thought-they-were gin and tonics.  (The boy only had one tasty beverage, and yet he was the one who ended up making inappropriate boy parts for Barney out of fondant).

Yeah, I was plowed. Seriously. I don't know how it happened, but I got extra plus drunk on a Tuesday night. I'm just that cool, I guess.

I'll post pictures of the cake tomorrow, maybe, because it is pretty fun, but the niftiest part of the evening came later. We went out for calamari salad at the Empire (dear god I would eat that every night of my life), and I started wondering how long it would take him to find out if I cheated on him and announced it via twitter. Wondering out loud, at length. Long enough for him to ask, several times, if I was cheating on him. (I'm not).

I'm not really clear what that conversation does to my status as awesome girlfriend, but I do know I found it hilarious and quite fascinating. I mean, he's not on twitter. The people who know both of us that are on twitter definitely have a stronger loyalty to me (I think). It's entirely possible that I could essentially screw around, announce it to millions of people, and yet never get found out. Wacky, huh? I even considered giving it a trial run, but was foiled by the complexity of unlocking an iPhone while hammered.

Doing it, of course, would make me a bad girlfriend. Who makes super fun Barney cakes.

Later addition:

After Barney was removed for consumption and the cake was half devoured.


Sunday Best