September 17, 2013

The Bad Boy's Bible & Devilish Dark Chocolate Zeppole

In Light there is Dark, and in Dark there is Light.”
Kami GarciaBeautiful Darkness

I know, I know; I’ve been MIA for months! And I obviously owe you an explanation.

Already on it.

See, at the start of every summer, I ready myself for an annual ritual; a couple of quiet months of meditation. Sneaking off to a secret destination, I settle down for some deep soul-searching. The idea is intense introspection; some down-time to deal with demons and drama. I chant and chart my chakras, I learn to live on lettuce, and water becomes my wine.  And as I step in my sanctuary of solitude and serenity, I surrender to silence.

That’s right; on the path to inner peace and purification, I vow not to verbalize any venom. Talk about a tough time on tricky terrain, huh? But it’s cool. Call it a cathartic spiritual cleanse.

All in all, it’s a rough retreat, but a girl’s gotta recharge the ol’ batteries, right?

I imagine you’re insanely impressed with my discipline and determination. Allow me to bask and bathe in the glorious glow of your adoration! Ahhhhh! Dare I take a moment to dance like a delirious deer in a meadow? Indeed, I shall! *prance* *prance* *shake-dance*

Totally kidding.

As much as I’d love to live the lie, you and I both know I’m not cut out for yoga!

Summer is supposed to be about endless afternoons spent lazing and lounging and soaking up the sun. So, from May through the monsoons, it’s customary that I commit myself completely to being footloose and fancy-free; my days dedicated solely to sun-kissed leisure and loosening up.

This year, because I’m a fatally flawed being, maker of monumental mistakes and debilitating-ly dumb decisions, I flipped this philosophy on its head. The consequences of turning turbo were brutal; crash and burn.

Honestly, it was unintentional and unexpected. I suppose I should also add that it un-exciting and uneventful, but I have a feeling you frown upon fibs.

Rest assured, though, there was no relaxation involved; only rude awakenings.

Frankly, I don’t have a flowery excuse for disappearing; I do, however, have unstoppable 1 year old and a husband who’s home all day, every day.

On the bright side, the beauty of being around my boys is that accounting for age is absolutely unnecessary. Almost everything works across the board. Fresh food, clean clothes, periodic play-time; cake-walk!

But then there’s the terrible truth.

Take it from me: toddlers are tireless! They’re jacked up on some juice adults just aren’t equipped to compete with.

Trust me, I’ve tried.

In the process of trying to poop my puppy out, I’ve become a master multi-tasker with an incredibly impressive repertoire of rhymes and riddles. Also, I’m fairly fluent in six sorts of gibberish and I can eat a meal in under a minute.

I am still, however, incapable of exhausting an excited infant.

Oh, did I mention the husband’s hiatus?

He’s got grad school on his mind so, he’s taken time off to tackle the green-eyed monster of all entrance exams; the GMAT.

It’s been interesting so far. A real revelation.

Okay, it’s like an alien invasion. It’s unnerving having him hanging around the house so much.

I create my own complications, though.

Call me crazy, but despite the fact that T is far from conventional, I feel compelled to cater to him when he’s home. I swear there’s no slavery or servitude. I’m just oddly old-fashioned…and a sucker for his smile.

Anyways, the bottom line is, I blame my boys for my absence. If it weren’t for men, there wouldn’t have been any need for this mea culpa!

There also wouldn’t have been such an amazeballs opportunity to observe the opposite sex.

Listen up, ladies and gentlepeople; there are lessons to be learned.

Now, not to be nostalgic, but I like to believe the husband and I are a heady love story, riddled with romance, happiness and humor. He makes all the marks on my checklist - chilled out, charming, champion of cheesy –picking up extra points for being polite, passionate and progressive. He also happens to be hilarious.

What can I say? We have a winner!

FYI, though; letting love light the way is one thing, but being in each other’s face 24/7 can breed a sort of fury that, I’m certain, is fueled by the fires of hell. It’s in these heated moments of too much togetherness that the husband morphs from man to maniac

Repeat after me; distance is divine!

Between you and me, I’ve never been aboard the bad-boy bandwagon. I’m not shy about admitting that chivalry gives me the shivers and when it comes to boy vs. beast, there’s no denying I dig dorks. Aggression doesn’t amuse me. Trivia, however, is a total turn on. In other words, I’d pick “periodically funny” over “perpetual fire-breather” any day of the week.

But I feel a little lonely in my battle against badly behaved brutes.

Of course, because I don’t like to base my complaints on conjecture, I took to Twitter to get a general opinion about the Average Joe.