Time Out: Marshmallows Made Cool…by HIPSTERS?!

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…another article on gourmet marshmallows… This is not helping my bad mood tonight!

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  Marshmallows are the new “hip” thing?  Marshmallows.  Really.

ATTENTION HIPSTERS:  Don’t ruin marshmallows!!!!!

Do you remember when I told you that I can determine the future?  You know, just by my thoughts alone?  Like when I had a hard time finding maxi dresses, and all the sudden they were popular.  Or when I thought, “I’ll go nautical this summer” and all the sudden Target and every other blessed store had nautical-themed clothes all summer?

Well last night, I was jonesin’ for a marshmallow (not the vanilla or gingerbread ones I had left over from Christmas) but an honest-to-God Kraft Jet-Puffed marshmallow.  Mike was in town and kind enough to go buy me a bag of the jumbo ones.  And then I get to work and read this bullshit.  Marshmallows are trendy.

Fucking hipsters...made me cuss.

Well now…marshmallows are trendy.  TRENDY!  Marshmallows can’t be trendy!  I mean, I’ll eat the strawberry ones, or the vanilla and gingerbread ones that are of the Kraft Jet-Puffed kind…but hipsters are ruining this.

Now marshmallows, the simple food that comes in a bag and makes the best part of s’mores, are available in trendy bakeries and cafes across the nation.

• Cinnamon marshmallows
• Strawberry basil marshmallows
• Chocolate rosemary marshmallows
• Cherry chocolate marshmallows
• Fruit and honey marshmallows
• Luscious Lemony Meringue or Caramel Swirl marshmallows

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

I’m staying on the marshmallow bandwagon, but I’m going to stick with the original.  Eff you, hipsters.

The real thing.

 

Deal Breaker # 2: Not Wanting Kids

Read Deal Breaker # 1!

I respect men who don’t want to have kids…but I certainly don’t want to date them.

If you ask me, the whole point of living is to leave a legacy, and what better way to do that than to have children.  Whether they’re biological, adopted, whatever–if you can be a part of a child’s life as they grow up, you can leave a legacy.

Most of you know that I have a condition called Glowing Ovaries.  Luckily, I don’t have to wear thick shirts or extra jackets to hide the two glowing orbs in my midsection, but oh do I feel the glow.  Mostly every time I hold a baby, get near a baby, hear about a baby, see a PICTURE of a baby.  Ugh.  It’s sick, isn’t it?

I want kids so bad.  I look forward to pregnancy.  I just think that the most rewarding thing in the world would be to have children, to make memories for them, to give them something to tell their kids about.

For instance, when it was my birthday, my mom would wake my little brother and my dad and they would sneak into my room while I was still sleeping and decorate it with streamers and balloons and put all my presents on the floor around me bed.  When I woke up, I was surrounded by color and fun and the sheer glee that is having a kid birthday.  We did the same for my brother, probably both of us, every year until we were ten.  I LOVE that.

Think this...but much less organized and much more color.

So I guess that won’t be nearly as fun without a man who wants to do that…much less a man who doesn’t want to give me kids.

Oh, and this post wouldn’t be about kids without at least one adorable baby picture:

Ha ha!