Soooooooooooooo, yeah. I’m baking cookies. There’re the really easy kind that all you need to do is separate the little squares of cookie dough, arrange them nicely on the pan so that when they get bigger in the over they don’t squish each other, and pop it in the oven for 10-15 minutes. YUM! Actually, I haven’t gotten around to even the first part of baking these cookies, because they’re frozen together. Hence, I am waiting for them to unfreeze. They should be done by now. WAIT!
I’m back. Turns out that whoever had the job of pre-cutting the cookies wasn’t very good at their job, a fact that I found out rather disappointedly a few minutes ago. So, anyways, I had to break up the cookies into squares, trying the whole time to follow the pre-cut lines. I wasn’t very successful. Now the cookies (that are currently in the oven, and setting off a delicious aroma) are not so much in squares as in chunks. But, you know. They’re cookies. Who cares what they look like? It was 3:25 when I began writing this paragraph, so I should go back to take the cookies out of the oven at 3:40.
Hey, any French students out there? A few months ago, my French class went to a cheese tasting. Camembert is AH-MAZING! And so is brie, which is what my family got at BJ’s. Actually, I got the cheese, Daddy just paid for it 🙂 See, I thought it was camembert, because it looked like camembert, but it was actually brie. Oops. It was still really good, though. A couple weeks after we bought the brie, I found out that the exact same company manufactured camembert, and I probably could’ve gotten it at BJ’s. Oh, well. New experiences and all that crap, right? It’s 3:31 right now. I really want the cookies to be done, because I have to leave at 4:30, and I have lots of other stuff to do before that, but I want cookies!
I’m probably going to keep typing until 3:40. Oh, look, my little sister is home. WAIT!
I’m back. It’s 3:34. My sister is so annoying. These are facts of life that I’m spouting right now.
You know, I actually can’t think of anything to say right now. Wow. Um… OH! I got it!
Have you guys seen that family band, Cimorelli, on YouTube? Uh, of course you have. Don’t pretend you haven’t seen their little “I’m Dani, I’m Lauren, I’m Amy…” etc., etc., “… and we’re Cimorelli!” This was in one of my old posts in my old blog that I deleted.
3:37. Ohmygosh, 3 mintues! It already smells heavenly. Sorry, this whole post has been like a chronicling of my intense desire for cookies. Seriously.
The guy I marry has to either be an amazing cook, or a horrible one. If he’s amazing, he can make me food. If he’s horrible, it’ll be endearing to watch him struggle. Plus, he needs to be able to sing and play an instrument. The ability to dance would be ideal, but when have I ever gotten my way with the world? It’s funny, because the guy I like can’t sing, and I think he plays the guitar. Maybe. I don’t know if he can cook. See, if he had been in my W.O.W. class last year, then I would’ve known whether or not he could cook.
At our school, in one grade, we have this class called W.O.W. Working On Wellness. You take it for one semester, and for one term you’re learning about smoking, and alcohol, and stuff, and for the other term, you get to cook. Oh, yesssss. And you get to eat. Lovin’ my school… for this one second. Although, compared to other schools, ours probably looks like heaven. I live in a rich people town. I’m one of those rich people. It’s 3:41. I should get the cookies. More facts of life for y’all. You know, my social studies teacher last year was from Georgia, and said y’all repeatedly, even though she’d lived in Massachusetts for only-god-knows how long. It’s 3:32. I’m getting the cookies. WAIT!
I’m back. I turned off the oven, but the cookies are still in there. They’re going to bake in the leftover heat for a couple of minutes while I type. You know, I’ve typed WAIT! three times in this post, not including the one I just typed as an example, and every single time it comes out as WIAT! instead of WAIT! because I’m in such a hurry I type the letters in the wrong order. It’s rather irritating, actually, because I have to go back and fix it instead of going to do what I was supposed to do.
Anyways, I’m all out of things to stay. Actually, if I really wanted to, I could probably spit out more useless crap about my life for you guys. Although, my life is pretty amazing, if I do say so myself, and I do.
Au revoir, ma cher(ie)!