A Letter To The Open Letter Writers Because This Needs To Be The Last One

A Letter To The People Who Are Always Writing Open Letters To Girls With Certain, Specific Personalities Or Issues on Facebook: May I ask why exactly this is such a trend? For some reason it irks me. I can't explain exactly why, but when I see these articles titled "An Open Letter To..." I roll my eyes approximately 42 times. 

(Yeah, yeah, this post is doing the same thing but that's called irony and I did it intentionally!)

Perhaps it's because the articles come across as a cry for attention, are full of cliches, and are completely lacking in real substance? Yeah that's it.

Oh, hey there Linda. I see you just shared "An Open Letter To The Girl Who Loves With Her Heart and Not Her Head." Nice to know you're just like every other person your age in the entire country.
I know these letters are usually meant to be uplifting, with a "You're not alone! You'll get through this rough patch!" message, but the specificity of some of the titles is outrageous, and the content seems to all be taken from the same generic "Open Letter" handbook.


"A Letter To The Girl Who Feels Anxious About Mispronouncing The Italian Menu Items at Olive Garden:"Hang in there. Your social anxiety doesn't define you! "To The Girl Still Healing From A Broken Heart:" We are in this together, and someday you'll look back and realize your struggles made you a stronger person.
Or on a similar note,
"A Letter To The Guy Who Loves An Independent Girl""To The Guy Who Will Marry My Best Friend""An Open Letter To The Boy About To Fall For The Reckless Girl"
Excuse me while I go vomit.

Here's the thing guys. I think I'm a closed letter kinda gal. Please take your cliche filled letters addressed to vague strangers, put a stamp on them and mail them to someone you know who is actually a "girl with a reckless heart." (What does that even MEAN?!)

I'm an article kinda gal too. But perhaps an article--void of cliches!--that talks about the intricacies of balancing friendships with romantic relationships, or one that explores the real emotional and psychological struggles of moving on after a breakup would be a little more substantive and worthwhile than all these generalized letters shouted into the void.

Then again, those cliched articles get shared a billion times each day, while my random rants and reviews sit quietly while gathering web-dust. I don't care though. I'm still going to roll my eyes at your open letters, and never write one myself again.

Adapting the Pioneer Woman to the Gluten Free Lifestyle

The other day I saw a satirical article on Facebook that was titled, "Gluten Free Pancake Mix is Just a Bag of Sand". I laughed out loud. A few people who know me pointed the article out to me and I laughed again. Thanks, friends for making fun of my very serious medical condition that prohibits me from eating the joys of gluten. Indeed, there are many gluten free food items I have tried that seem to be made of either sand, or drywall that's been sitting in the rain for a few days.

But I must defend my gluten free life a bit, because I am definitely not starving, and I've learned to adapt some recipes to make DURN GOOD FOOD.

So let me tell you something: the Pioneer Woman is my spirit animal. Let me tell you something else: her recipes almost always turn out great when adapted to gluten free ingredients! She loves butter and cream as much as I do, and ain't afraid of no bacon. That's the secret here. I have a theory that if you add enough butter to any gluten free recipe, or fry the gluten free thing, it will be edible.

*So if you're thinking about willingly switching to a gluten free diet for health reasons, you're going to be very disappointed. The only way to make what is gluten free sand taste good is by adding a million more calories. Also, all of you who eat gluten free for the fun of it/ because it's trendy need to STOP. For the love of God, eat some bread.* 

I have proven this theory many a time, most often with Pioneer Woman recipes. Here, I will share with you my experimental results for one recipe, which have indeed been repeated. And  I remember something from science about experiments needing to be repeated to be proven????

Disclaimer: I don't have any pictures because I got too excited and ate it all before I remembered to capture it.

Spicy Fried Chicken Sandwiches

It's chicken dipped in buttermilk then dredged in a flour, salt, peppar, cayenne, brown sugar mixture, then dipped again in buttermilk and then FRIED IN GREASY GOODNESS.

Then you mix some spicy hot sauce with some mayo and slather it on a delicious bun or bread of your choice.

Next chop some red cabbage and add some bread and butter pickle juice, jalapenos, parsely, salt and pepper.

On your slathered bun, add some pickles, then place the recently fried chicken. Here's the secret deliciousness: drizzle just a bit of honey on the chicken! DO IT NOW--don's skip this step. Then pile some cabbage on it! Top the bun and EAT IT.

It's delish, I promise. And it's easy to make gluten free if you use gluten free flour!

Also delicious and fried and from The Pioneer Woman: Pan Fried Pork Chops

Also delicious, not fried, and naturally gluten free by The Pioneer Woman: Simple, Perfect Chili

How to Cope with the Outcome of the Election: Eat Alfredo

So the election's almost over and you're emotionally spent from the rollercoaster of the last year and a half. We won't get into WHICH emotions you're feeling right now--fear, anger, sadness, rage, whatever--because I know that there's one thing we all have in common: hunger.

I'm going to share with you the solution to your emotions and your hunger:

Make this Alfredo sauce.

We all are in need of some comfort, so get yourself a stick of butter, half a chunk of cream cheese, and a pint of heavy cream. Put it all in a sauce pan and WHISK IT INTO SUBMISSION. Add some salt and pepper, garlic to your taste, and throw in a teaspoon or two of Italian seasoning. Then add a cup of shredded parmesan cheese and whisk it in as it melts deliciously and temptingly. When it sticks to your whisk, lick it off with no shame.

Enraged at the state of the good ol' USofA? Make and eat this Alfredo sauce.

Scared for the future? Put this Alfredo sauce on your toast in the morning.

Relieved that the dang election is just OVER? Heap the Alfredo sauce on some pasta (gluten free of course).

Trying to eat healthy and want to trick yourself into eating a vegetable? Pour the sauce on some broccoli.

Seriously, just eat this Alfredo sauce in some way! It's okay to eat it with a spoon! It's okay to eat it right before bed! For breakfast! Scoop it with a tortilla. Add chicken and spinach and pasta. Feed it to the dogs because God knows they've felt the negative effects of the election just as much as you.

I promise, you will feel better while making and eating this Alfredo sauce, and right now, that's all any of us want to do. To feel better.

Anything with butter makes ya better.

For Your Entertainment: My Weird, Recurring Dream

I have weird dreams all the time. Most of the time by lunchtime they're all out of my head, except for the terrifying ones that stay with me for daaaaaaays and haunt me. But I also deal with a few recurring dreams. For example, my teeth often fall out as I eat or talk in my dreams, and ever since I was young I dream I get locked in the attic of the Trunchbull's attic (who is my babysitter), but the furniture comes alive in a Beauty and the Beast-ish twist and it saves me. We dance down the street as we run away after thwarting Trunchbull.

Pretty entertaining, right? And that one happens the SAME each time. It's very specific.

But I also consistently dream that I am in the place of Harry Potter in some situation or other. I've defeated the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, watched Cedric die in the graveyard (sob), and tons of other crazy things. The kicker is that I always know what's going to happen though in these dreams, and it makes it much more stressful and infuriating trying to keep bad things from happening.

So now, BEHOLD, the most frustrating, weirdest version of my Harry Potter immersion dreams:

The people of Hogwarts usher me down a golden elevator to an underground banquet hall that looks eerily familiar to the Great Hall. To the left is a door that leads to a platform for the Hogwarts Express, but SURPRISE, the train flies. I thought we took an elevator down, but we are actually in the air somehow????

In the banquet hall I am met by death eaters who are oddly hospitable. This is a feast, a dinner, before I go to meet Voldemort for our final battle. They cook me dinner. They even make sure it's gluten free! It's a delicious feast with rolls, roast duck, and pumpkin juice, but I can't eat because I'm shaking in my boots about fighting Voldemort. 

As the dinner ends, the Death Eaters become more hostile and antagonize me with remarks about me soon being dead. This is when I realize I don't have my wand! They laugh as they walk across the banquet hall to the large double doors to join the Dark Lord for the impending battle, and I scramble around with Molly Weasley, Ron, Hermione, ad Ginny looking for my wand. 

The Hogwarts Express zooms up to the door/portal in the sky and Dobby, who is the conductor, tosses me my wand. Hurrah! 

But when I try to do some spells, I remember that I'm a squib and am not very good at magic! The horror! But I must go on anyways. 

When I go through the hall doors, I find myself in a large white master bedroom that's quite dark. Dusky dark. I immediately sit down beside the bed and sob because I know Voldemort is in there somewhere. Suddenly, the room lurches and zooms backwards as if it's being dragged by a trailer. 

Then I find myself in a HUGE hall with tall ceilings. Death Eaters are flying around and in what would be a choir loft I see Voldemort. I shoot killing curses at him over and over while dodging his and the death eaters, but they just bounce off of him! 

And with each curse, my wand grows shorter! When it's no more than a nub, I flee to the large multi stall bathroom off of the room and lock myself in a stall. There are people everywhere in there--what the heck!?

But yay, there are birthday candles and matchstick dispensing machines in the stall with a metal "lighter" attached to the wall behind the toilet. (????) Inserting the match or candle like a credit card will light it so you can use it as a temporary wand. 

But alas, my lighter isn't working great and I keep dropping my lit matches in the toilet! 

Finally, a kind stranger enters my stall and lights a large match for me, and when I walk out of the stall to try and kill Voldemort with the match/wand, a tiny old couple is waiting for me with a package wrapped in white parchment paper. They hand it to me silently and gesture at me to open it.

When I do, it's full of black throwing knives and ominous looking black wands to choose from. As I look up to thank them, they disappear and I have no idea who the heck they were. 

Nonetheless, I choose some knives and a couple wands incase they decide to shrink again, and charge out to meet Voldemort! 

It only takes one more move from me for him to die. 

I throw the smallest of the black knives at his chest, and as it flies through the air, I shoot a killing curse at the knife causing it to catch fire, and as the cursed knife meets Voldemort's chest, it buries itself deep and then he bursts in to flames. In a matter of seconds, he is reduced to a pile of ashes, and then I wake up!

What???? Someone please interpret this dream for me and tell me why I keep having it!

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this rather long and ludicrous post about my insanity!