The wait is over!

I'm so sorry to keep you waiting, kiddies. 

I know, I know. I apologize to the nightlife market of New Jersey.  No one went out. 

You all just loyally stayed home, refreshing this page, and waited for the fulfillment that can only come from reading what I write. It was a long weekend and many businesses suffered, but I am back. 

Breathe east, New Jersey, breathe easy...

Let's recap.

I finally made, and perfected, my Macarons! They were Gerard-Butler-Shirtless-in-a-heat-wave AMAZING. Wrap your head around that one. I'd venture to say, even men would agree on the eye-gasm that is Gerard Butler shirtless and sweaty...

ANYWAY...

I'm like a proud mama. They were born at approx. 3pm Saturday April 28th, 2012. They were Lime. And phenomenal. I say "were" because, within 24 hours, all 40 of them were devoured. 

Such is the circle of pastry life. RIP. 

Now on to the shit talking. You didn't think I would solely post about Lime Macarons, did you?

I'm still in search of my satisfying cookie. No, I'm not talking about a literal cookie. If you don't know what I mean, read my post, "The Cookie Jar" and clue yourself in...

I come across plenty of cookies. I'm a cookie whore always trying a different cookie, it seems. You know, it's funny.  I've lost a lot of weight in my lifetime. Most of it was lost with amazing willpower.

I'm Italian and Greek. You try turning down pasta on Sunday. Now that I am the thinnest I've ever been, I'm also the most confident I've ever been. Why can I live with diabetes,  lose an extreme amount of weight naturally, finish culinary school, and start a business, but I can't find the strength to say no to the second cookie?

This weekend, I gave in. I had decided to never see, thus being tempted to eat, the one cookie I've been binging on for the past month ever again. 

Then I gave in. 

I went with every intention not to "eat" but rather, just to have the cookie around.

I left with crumbs all over my face and an overwhelming sense of self defeat.

I keep trying to be a cynic and a hopeless romantic at the same time. It doesn't work. Or at least the cynic in me is far weaker than the romantic.

Keeping up with this "cookie" shit is getting exhausting.

Here's the deal: 

I keep giving the same idiot chance after chance. 

I keep telling him, I'm here. 

I'm yours if you want.

I keep looking for some kind of comfort when we're laying next to each other.

I keep driving home in tears.

I hit the wall, just last night. I'm not here to convince anyone I'm worth loving. I have to much to offer someone. I'm done playing games. That "Men want what they can't have" thing is horse shit.

I want someone to love the shit out of me because I'm real and because I'm there with an open heart.

Not because I pretend that I don't want them. Why? So they can hunt me down and feel like bigger men because "they caught me"?

Been there, done that. They're usually NOT the bigger men.. catch my drift?

The right person will come along and sweep me off my feet. Because that's what I deserve.

And I will be the one that got away. Because that's what he deserves.