The Girl Who Lived

There's something you should know about me:

I don't love baking.

Worst Blogger ever? Nah, I'm a'ight. It's not that I hate baking--I just prefer cooking. You know, meat-and-mashed-potatoes cooking, with some veggies roasting in the oven (alright, baking in the oven).

That's why the only dessert post you've ever seen on here was my Oreo Truffles post. No baking required. Just mixing and freezing.

My anti-love (but not hate) for baking was seared into my being at a temperature of 400 degrees when I brushed my arm against the inside of the door to my lave-hot oven while it was baking some chocolate lava cakes to heart-burning perfection. That was about six days ago. This is what remains.
I'm not sure it's ever going to leave, but that's ok. For a baking injury, I have to admit it's pretty rad.


  1. Better than a tattoo! You're the Girl Who Lived.

    1. Hahaha! And you are my favorite person. I'm changing the title because of you. You should write all my post titles.



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