Nice things about autumn: An exhaustive list

Fall fell earlier last week, and so did my happiness levels. And my motivation levels. It's taken me days to finish this post that I started writing last Monday!

I really don't like fall. When I was younger, it was my favorite season because it was so crisp and windy and exciting, but now that I have a cold intolerance, fall is just a depressing season that obligates me to wear long sleeves and reminds me that winter is coming.

But who wants to be depressed all the time? There must be at least one good thing about fall, and I have finally found it!

Fuzzy caterpillars! 

I have been seeing them everywhere lately, and they always strike joy into my heart (and no small amount of terror when I have to swerve to avoid running over one of them on my bike).

I hope caterpillars can sustain my mood until discounted Halloween candy appears to take up the torch.

Shower Complex

I compare myself unfavorably to others in a lot of categories, but bathroom products has never been one of them—until yesterday.

I've been renting out my spare bedroom to short term guests on Airbnb. The most recent visitor settled in and promptly filled a shelf of the shower rack with her stuff. I took one look at it and instantly lost about half my self-esteem.

Everything she put on the rack was so pretty! She has a shower pouf that looks like a lovely blue-tipped white rose. She has shower gel that comes in an elegant gold bottle with shimmer on top. She has about 4 shampoos and conditioners that aren't anything special, but they look so nice sitting there in the rack all together.

By contrast, my shower supplies look depressing. On one shelf, I've got a bottle of Suave shampoo (the cheapest brand at Target) and a used Voss water bottle that holds a solution of baking soda and water. Next to them both sits a disk of soap acquired at some 2-star motel. On the shelf below that, because it's too big to fit next to all the other stuff, is a family-size bottle of all-purpose conditioner by Kirkland, Costco's signature brand. I have to keep it upside-down so that the conditioner will come out when I need it, and it's been sitting there so long that brownish film has formed on the bottom. To top it all off, I have a scruffy old white washcloth draped over the bar. The overall effect is one of stark apathy.

I never thought that your shower shelf could say a lot about who you are, but if it does, mine says I'm a bachelor who's given up on life. Hello, newfound sense of inferiority!

Chocolate Chunk Cookie from Noodles & Company

This cookie's claim to fame is that it contains oats. Which not many chocolate chunk cookies have the guts to do.

Its other claim to fame was that I bought two on two separate occasions just so I could give it an adequate review. The first time, I lost the receipt and forgot to weigh it. With so little information to go on, I just gobbled it up and left it unreviewed. The second time, I got all the facts. And it weighed 130 grams and cost $1.59 (meaning it weighs in at 1.22¢ a gram)

And after two reviews, I am confident in saying that the facts indicate this cookie would be better without oats. While I'm all for variegated textures to give my cookies some bite, in this case, I don't think they helped. I can't say exactly why; I just found them a distraction while eating.

Other than that, it was a fairly average chocolate chunk cookie. I have to give it props, though, for being soft enough to get seriously bent up in a bumpy trip home on my bike and still survive without crumbling.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 3 stars
Texture: 3 stars
Price: 4 stars

On Getting Hi

This morning, I woke up to a text message: "I'm deleting your damn number. I've tired of your ignorant bullshit." The message was from a number that I didn't recognize, but our text message history showed we had texted before. The last text was from July 28, incoming: "HI".

Before that, another incoming message on July 1: "Hi.."

Before that, a 5-message exchange in early June, regarding what we had done that day, initiated by this number I had never bothered to save, and ended by me when I couldn't think of a worthwhile reply to "I went to get food."

I had to scroll up several more messages before I remembered who this master conversationalist was: a guy I met on okCupid shortly before I started dating my boyfriend. This guy lives in the wilds of Pennsylvania or some other such impossibly distant locale. We've never met in person. He always seemed to want to chat by text message, but never had anything interesting to say or ask. His boringness was obvious in the fact that I never felt the need to save his number.

All I can assume from his most recent (and I guess final) text message is that he finds my failure to reply to his aimless "Hi"s a fatal form of ignorance (Is he mistaking ignorant—a term referring to lack of knowledge—for a nonexistant adjectival form of the verb ignore? That's a whole different grammar question to be explored another day).

I know he's not the only one to be offended by my selective texting, so I'd like to tackle at least one of the pressing issues of texting etiquette—the controversial use of generic greetings.

Texting differs from an in-person conversation in that it is not instantaneous. When a person says something to you face to face, you are obligated to reply immediately or else be seen as rude. When a person texts you, they have no idea whether you've received the message. They don't know what you're doing, whether you have your phone with you, or whether you're otherwise occupied. They cannot expect a response right away. But here's where it gets tricky. Do they have a right to expect a response at all?

In the case of the two neglected "Hi"s, I'm not sure what I was doing at 5:55pm on July 28, or at 10:26pm on July 1 (but probably sleeping), but I will assume that it was not a convenient time for me to engage in a chat. Now, to avoid any kind of misunderstanding, my best course of action would have been to reply with something like "can't talk now." But even that dashed-off response would require me to actually have the phone with me, not be otherwise occupied, and be awake.

It's not unusual for me to reply to a text message hours or occasionally even a day or two after I receive it, because that's when I finally have the time for texting. But a message like "Hi"—Is that even worth a delayed response at all?

Hi is a greeting. It's what you say to someone when you see them to acknowledge their presence. It is not an appropriate phrase to sling out into the vastness of space and hope it sparks a conversation. I feel like "Hi" has an expiration date, and after a few hours, it no longer makes sense to say Hi back.

I feel that if all you can think to say is "Hi," then clearly, you don't need to talk that badly. if you want talk, you should have something in mind to talk about, and then you should just start talking. That's the beauty of text messaging—it is direct, concise, and works best when you avoid all the little pleasantries that are obligatory in face-to-face conversation.

So here's some advice for those of you who imagine that you need to start every chat with a hello: You don't. And if you still want to, go ahead, but make sure you say something afterwards that has more substance. And if you are the type of person who suddenly blows up in anger over a month after some imagined slight, well, I just hope you were looking for your reply on the internet and not on your phone.

The Basket Case (a sequel to Life Without a Basket)

This whole bike basket situation is driving me batty.

The rabbit carrier did its job for a few days until the door hinges started disintegrating (I don't blame them; they were made of grass!).

My next basket was an oversized white hand basket I found at the thrift store. I held it onto the back rack with a length of bungee cord I keep in my car.

I really enjoyed tooling around with this basket on my bike, because, although it looked even more incongruous and rigged-together than its predecessor, it also had an undeniable element of cuteness. It was a goofy and fun addition to my bike. It was also amazingly spacious and easy to remove if I wanted to bring it into the house—just unhook the bungee cord and go! This basket lasted a day, until the ancient bungee cord snapped. Fortunately it did it overnight, rather than mid-ride!

It just so happened I had an old metal folding basket waiting in the wings. I had carried it faithfully on my handlebars for at least a couple years, but there were a number of things that annoyed me about it, so when it came time to replace it with a bona fide official handlebar basket, I wasn't sad to see it go.

But beggars can't be choosers, and as soon as I knew I was back in the bike basket market, I contacted my ex-boyfriend (at whose apartment I had left it) asking for it back. I brought it home just one day before it had to spring into action! I decided to hook it onto the side of my rack (it kept collapsing when placed on top, and the mounting bracket for my real basket was taking up all the handlebar space). I'd been considering using panniers, as they seem to be popular among the serious bike commuters—you know, the ones who wear helmets and reflective vests and such. So this seemed like a good time to try the side-mounted basket.

I'm not sure I'm impressed. There was very little clearance between it and the pedals; a few times I hit it with my foot. But of course the worst thing about this basket was its contents were too heavy for the Velcro straps holding it on, and it fell onto the trail halfway to work (and I think this is where I lost the combination lock that I keep in the side pockets of my backpack). I had to reattach the Velcro once more when I got on campus. Obviously, this cannot be my basket solution, at least until I find a more reliable way to keep it on my bike.

While at the office, I taped the bottom to the sides so it wouldn't collapse spontaneously, and strapped it to the top of the rack. That seemed to work better. At least it didn't fall off on my way home, though it did slide around quite a bit.

Chick & Ruth's Macaroni and Cheese

Chick & Ruth's Delly (Yeah, they spell it that way) is a pretty famous place in Annapolis that you still don't have wait in line to eat at.

I've only been to Annapolis a handful of times, and I've eaten at Chick & Ruth's thrice, but I have not yet tried their macaroni and cheese (perhaps because when I have an opportunity to eat an egg salad sandwich instead, that always seems to take priority).

In any case, I haven't been missing out on much. My last visit to Chick & Ruth's, my dining companions both got macaroni as a side dish. I tried a few bites and was very happy I'd just gone for egg salad again.

It was mushy and dry (can those two things really go together?) and not salty enough.

My friend who is a less picky eater didn't like it either. He gave me his leftovers, and I ate them, but only because I don't like paying for food when I can get it for free. My boyfriend who will eat anything thought it was fine, but he will eat anything.

The moral of this story is there are definitely better things to get at Chick & Ruth's. Like a colossal milkshake!

I rate the macaroni and cheese two sad noodles:
One for its terrible texture, and one for its terrible flavor.

Life without a basket

I went on an epic vacation not too long ago. And by epic, I mean I took a 5-day cruise, got home for 20 minutes, and left again for New York to attend Electric Zoo. That was pretty stressful, having to prepare for a second trip in 20 minutes, and I forgot to bring several things with me. But that was nothing compared to what I forgot to bring back with me when I returned home.

My bike basket!!

My boyfriend and I stayed at the house of some of his relatives in New Jersey. They gamely carried both our bicycles from the bus stop to their house in the middle seat of their minivan, a feat which I never thought possible. In order to fit my bike in the very cramped space, I had to remove the basket from the handlebars. I kept it in the room that I stayed in, and, in the chaos of trying to get everyone and everything situated for the trip back (this time, the whole family came along, necessitating that the bikes be tied onto the roof), I left my basket in their house.

Oh, the woe!

Since I use my bike to commute to the office every day, carrying such essentials as lunch and shoes and any items I happen to purchase at Rugged Wearhouse after work—and since I hate wearing a backpack while biking because it turns my back into a swamp of sweat—I had to find another cargo solution—for the entire month or so that I will be basketless until the relatives come into town for a visit!

On the plus side, this motivated me to finally attach the rear rack that I've been putting off for almost a year now. On the minus side, the new basket that I found to fulfill the task has proven wholly annoying (though popular with passers-by).

I chose to use the wicker animal carrier that I bought for my rabbit but never used for anything but storing his bags of litter. What makes this item so annoying is, well, just about everything.

It opens via a door on the side, meaning I have to bend over and feed all my possessions into it sideways. It's bigger than my old basket, but because it's fully enclosed, I have no option for an oversized load. It keeps coming open when I ride, although I have not yet had the misfortune of my stuff spilling out of it while in transit. It makes mounting the bike more challenging, and it keeps touching my butt while I'm riding, which is disconcerting.

I'm still looking for other alternatives. Stay tuned as the saga continues!

Macaroni and cheese from Hill Country

Those are our Mason jars full of beverages in the background. How southern!

I've had so many sub-par macaronis in the past months—some so bad I didn't even feel like reviewing them. It was a relief to finally have a macaroni that wasn't tasteless or mushy. In fact, it was pleasantly chewy. And rated just the right amount of salty. And with gooey lumps of cheese that stretch when you lift them with your fork. And tempting burnt patches! Of all the macaronis that I've tried since beginning my MacaroniQuest, this is the one that reminds me the most of my grandmother's.

It was just unfortunate that I had to go to a place swarming with meat to eat it.

The first time I went to Hill Country, (once I got over the pervasive odor of barbecued animals), I was pleasantly surprised by the macaroni and cheese, but I lost the photo I took of it, so I never did blog about it.

The second time I went there, I took one bite and actually said, "I love this macaroni and cheese!" It was then that I knew that Hill Country is my new favorite source for macaroni. I also remembered, miraculously, to take the photo and keep it.

I rate this macaroni 2 happy noodles for taste and chewiness. Then I'll give it another happy noodle for so thoroughly trumping all macaronis thus far. And I'll refrain from giving it a sad noodle, since it's not the macaroni's fault it came from a barbecue establishment.

Why do you do what you Doritos?

It is no secret that I am in love with Doritos. My house feels empty when I don't have  a bag or two stockpiled. I have been known to make them my entree for dinner and lunch.

But there is a secret I haven't been so keen to let on: Doritos don't love me back.

Now I can just imagine the peanut gallery out there going, "Yeah, I bet, when you eat Doritos, they must give you the runs so bad..." Get your minds out of the gutter, peanut gallery! My innards are blissfully unaffected by any amount of Mexican food, no matter how fake and heavily processed.

But what is not so unaffected? My lips.

Sadly, after almost any Dorito binge, I can pretty much expect all the skin to flake off my lips within a few days. This is annoying and inexplicable. Do I have some kind of weird allergy? Are the dry, salty chips just desiccating my flesh? Whenever I eat Doritos, I make a conscious effort to wipe with a napkin frequently and guzzle more water than I think I need, but it never seems to help.

Why, Doritos, when I love you so much do you treat me so bad!? Oh, well, no matter. My love for you is unconditional. I will continue to eat you, even if you change your recipe for the worse.

Oh, wait, you already did that.

Remember when I blogged about Doritos' impending design change and promise of a bolder flavor?  Apparently when they said bolder, they only meant more painful, because the only difference I could detect between the Doritos of the New Bag and the Doritos of old was that the new ones were spicier and made my mouth hurt (but fortunately, did not make the lip-flaking any worse than usual). And the Cool Ranch still doesn't have enough flavor.

And because I promised I would make package redesigns part of my blogging repertoire, here are the old bag and the new bag side by side.

A Passel of Panera Reviews

Panera macaroni and cheese

 A few mornings ago, I went for breakfast so late that I felt more like eating lunch. I was at Panera, one of my favorite restaurants on account of all the things on their menu my picky self can actually eat! So I decided to partake of the macaroni and cheese.

I ordered a small, because a small is usually big enough. This one, however, wasn't. They filled my little 12-oz container (it could have been 8 ounces, I'm a terrible judge of size) half full of macaroni, charged me five dollars for it, and left me out to dry. Ugh. It was tasty, for sure, but if you're ever at Panera pondering the pasta, do yourself a favor and order an entree. The macaroni side dish is possibly the world's biggest smallest rip-off.

I rate this macaroni 2 sad noodles for the outrageous price, and one happy noodle for the taste.

Panera Chocolate Duet Cookie 

 After my utter failure to get a decent-sized lunch for a decent price, I was still hungry for cookies. Actually that's not true—I assuaged my hunger with a carrot cake muffin and saved the cookie for later.

That cookie was the Chocolate Duet. Chocolate cookie, chocolate chips, and a smattering of walnuts on top. I think it had white chocolate too, but I actually didn't notice any when I was eating it.

The walnuts really took this cookie to a whole new level, as they were crunchy. Deliciously crunchy in a deliciously soft cookie (some of that softness may be due to the extremely warm ambient temperature at which I ate it—the chocolate chips were also melted at the time of eating, which I never enjoy).

I found this cookie a surprising delight, since I'm usually lukewarm about chocolate cookies. Maybe it just takes an extreme ambient temperature to warm me up to them...

I'm assuming this cookie was 100 grams on the dot, like all Panera cookies, although its price was a little higher than the last ones I bought, at 2.09. That means they are even less of a two-star value than their Ohio counterparts.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 5 stars
Texture: 5 stars
Price: 2 stars

Chocolate chip cookie from Uptowner Cafe in Georgetown

All chocolate chip cookies are beginning to taste the same to me. I found the chocolate chips too soft and almost too sweet. Perhaps my tastes are running to the more-sophisticated dark chocolate.

Nothing about this cookie really stands out as superb.

The price was average at 1.59¢ per gram.

The best feature of this cookie was the texture, which passed the crumble test with flying colors. I carried it around in my purse for a whole evening, once, even bending it almost in half, and it still didn't drop a crumb.

The Bottom Line
Taste:3 stars
Price: 3 stars
Texture: 4 stars

AU Cookie

Ashland University is famous, in part, for its AU cookies, which are shamelessly used to lure prospective students to its gates. It worked on me. AU cookies were one of the first, if not the very first, kinds of Giant Cookie I ever consumed. Strangely, it took me over 2 years of Giant Cookie reviewing before I finally got my hands on one of the cookies that started me down this path.

I attended an alumni event earlier in the summer, where I was pleased to see the cookies that had been on my To-Review list ever since I started this blog.

Unfortunately, after all the build-up, I was a little disappointed. It was overflowing with chocolate and crunchy nuts, but the taste of the cookie itself wasn't that impressive. It was also thinner than I remembered, making it less satisfying to bite into than I'd prefer.

The bottom line
Taste: 3 stars
Texture: 3 stars

Prairie City Cookies

Prairie City cookies can be found at the Union Shop on the University of Maryland campus. Surprisingly, I'd been working here for 2 and a half years before I finally decided to give one a try.

Prairie City White Macadamia Nut cookie

The white chocolate macadamia nut cookie was my first choice. It was not exactly crispy, but still too crunchy for my taste (it mostly passed the crumble test, but snapped in the process). Its main issue was a kind of sour taste that I associate with cheap packaged cookies. And the kicker was it wasn't even cheap, costing around 1.75¢ per gram.
I also thought the white chocolate was too soft.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 1 star
Texture: 2 stars
Price: 3 stars

Prairie City Candy cookie

Later on, to be fair, and also because I didn't pay attention to the price when I bought the first cookie, I tried a different variety—this time it was Mmmm...Candy, with pieces of candy that bore a striking similarity to M&Ms.

This cookie was much better than the first. It tasted sweet and buttery, and its texture was fairly chewy (good) but also somewhat crumbly (less good).

The Bottom Line
Taste: 4 stars
Texture: 3 stars
Price: 3 stars

Bernadette's Peanut Butter Cookie

 
Recently, I went on a vacation to the Midwest.

After days of suffering the meat-centric cuisine of Kansas City and its environs, I went to get my boyfriend change from the cashier at some heinous barbecue joint, and I returned from the cashier's stand with two delicious-looking giant cookies. This cookie arrived in my life just when I was beginning to lose hope of ever enjoying my food.

And enjoy it I did! It was one of the best cookies I've eaten in my history of giant cookie reviewing.
It was just cooked enough to hold it together, but still soft and almost raw on the inside. The coarse sugar on top added just the right amount of textural variety.

I loved this cookie with my whole heart. I wish I could have reviewed its sister chocolate chip cookie, but alas, I accidentally left it in my brother's fridge when I left Kansas.

But if you're ever in Kansas City, have a gander at Best of Bernadette's Cakes and Catering, because at least one cookie will be worth your effort.

The Bottom Line
Taste: 5 stars
Texture: 5 stars
Price: 4 stars

Cosi Chocolate Chunk Cookie

 
Ever since Cosi changed the recipe for their white chocolate chip cookies, to contain walnuts instead of macadamia nuts, I just haven't felt the same love for them. And now, only 2 years and a month after my very first Giant Cookie review, in which I contemplated reviewing one of Cosi's chocolate chunk cookies, I finally took the plunge.

The price is $1.99 for 100 g. At 1.9¢ a gram, the chocolate chunk cookies aren't any better value than the white chocolate cookies were when I first reviewed them.

The texture is chewy enough, but it lacks the gooey goodness that distinguishes a good cookie from a great one. It almost borders on tough.

The flavor is also bland and unexciting, though I will give them a little credit for using dark chocolate instead of everyday milk or semisweet.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 3 stars
Texture: 3 stars
Price: 2 stars

Chocolate chip cookie from Le Pain Quotidien

Stopping in at a restaurant just to use the bathroom usually means you buy something out of guilt. For me, it's obviously going to be Giant Cookies!

This one came from Le Pain Quotidien.

And quite appropriately, since eating this cookie was one of the most "pain"ful experiences I've had in my history of Giant Cookie reviewing.

Even though it was still soft in a lot of spots, it was pretty dark brown for a chocolate chip cookie. Like it was overcooked. It was also sort of sour around the edges. Like it was overcooked.

And it was dry. It also had a piece of paper cooked into it.

And it had an almost sticky surface that I found unappetizing.

I'd be willing to give this bakery another chance, because it seems like this cookie was a result of an off day, but as of now, I will have to review it unfavorably.

As is common lately, I ate this cookie away from access to a scale, so I can't judge its value too accurately, but it cost over three dollars, and couldn't have weighed more than around 150 grams, putting it at around 2¢ a gram, or, not cheap.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 1 star
Texture: 2 stars

The ABC's of Me

Not too long ago, my fellow blogger Geoff hit the world with an epic alphabetical list of all the traits that make him him, and he said it sounded like something I would do, so I said I'd do it. Well, it took me 2 weeks to think of an adjective that began with Z, but finally it is here! One word for every letter of the alphabet, each describing something about me!

A is for Awesome. That's right. Let's start this already narcissistic post off with a bang!

B is for Bouncy. And I mean that quite literally. My favorite thing to do instead of standing still is to bounce on my toes. My favorite thing to do instead of sitting still is to bounce my legs up and down.

C is for Colorful. The brighter the better. Why do something in beige when you can do it in rainbow instead?

D is for Deliberate. As in the exact opposite of impulsive.  I look before I look before I look before I leap, and think about every decision for at least a few days. Unless I am crossing the road, and then I usually just step out blindly.

E is for Eco-conscious. People call me a hippie because I compost, reuse everything, go out of my way to recycle, never buy things new when I can buy them used, choose walking or biking or public transportation over driving almost all the time, carry mountains of groceries in my arms rather than use a disposable bag, and carry a weight of guilt that is approximately equal to the number of pounds of carbon I release into the atmosphere with all my wasteful activities.

F is for Forgetful. I can't remember what else I was going to say about that.

G is for Gullible. I believe everything I'm told, which means my boss has lots of fun telling me I'm getting fired all the time. Gee, thanks, Boss.

H is for Honest. I don't steal, I don't cheat, and sometimes I think I disappoint people by telling the truth when they ask me my opinion.

I is for Introverted. I am the shyest person I know. And I don't know many.

J is for Jumpy. Just watch me when someone pokes me from behind. Or I almost step on a worm. Or drop a cockroach that I'm trying to carry out of the building on piece of paper. This goes hand in hand with screamy, but that's not a word.

K is for Klutzy. If you looked at my legs, which are covered in scratches, scrapes, and bruises, that would be all you would need to know. But you could look at my left elbow if you weren't sure. I slammed that into a chair 2 weeks ago, and I'm still bitter about it.

L is for Logical. I am swell at following scenarios to their logical conclusions, and one of my favorite phrases is, "That doesn't make sense!"

M is for Moody. When I'm happy, I'm on top of the world. When I'm sad, I'm despondent. And when I'm mad, I'm hysterical. I can switch from one to the other of these moods in as much time as it takes me to open a cupboard door into my skull.

N is for Nice. That's what all the kids in elementary school said when asked to describe themselves, and I'm sticking to it. Besides, I think it's true, if not very sophisticated in the literary sense.

O is for Obsessive-compulsive. Not in the crazy way, just in the way that everything has to be neat and tidy and spelled correctly.

P is for Perfectionistic. Oh, and everything has to be perfect. That too.

Q is for Quick. If I have to move slowly for some reason, I slowly go insane.

R is for Risk-averse. I would rather never try something than take the chance of failing at it.

S is for Smiley. When people who don't know my name are trying to call me by name, they usually choose "Smiley." That or "Blondie," but since right now my hair is aqua, it would have to be "bluey" and that just doesn't have the same ring.

T is for Thrifty. Nothing feels better to me than saving a few bucks.

U is for Unhealthy. When I don't have some minor malady ruining my life, I'm worrying that I do.

V is for Vegetarian. You would not believe what a hot topic of discussion this is among everyone who meets me. Let's not discuss it right here.

W is for Wordy. I love to write, and I love to elaborate. Why say something in a sentence if you can say it in a paragraph?

X is for Xerodermic. Every so often, my lips turn into a mini-Mojave, and then I can think of nothing else.

Y is for Yeller. That's right, I'm skeert of pretty much everything.

Z is for Zany. This is basically a second-rate synonym for "goofy," which I was going to use for G because people have on several occasions called me a goofball and meant it in a complimentary way. But I really wanted to get that "gullible" in there, and how many other words start with a Z?

So what about you? Can you alphabetize your existence? If you're a blogger, too, why not have at it? Or if not, just post the whole thing on Myspace, like old times!

Chocolate Walnut Espresso Cookie from Firehook Bakery

Firehook Bakery used to be my main source of 7-layer bars, meaning when I was there, I rarely sampled their wide variety of Giant Cookies, but since I learned I could make 7-layer bars myself, suddenly the game had changed. The last time I was at Firehook, I dove in, and requested a type of cookie I rarely choose: the all-chocolate one. Turns out it was chocolate walnut espresso, but it was too late to back out so I bought in.

Not having a very good sense of smell, I could just barely detect the espresso, but that's fine with me, since I don't much like coffee flavors anyway.

What I did detect was a sharp, almost painful coldness to the cookie, like what you feel when you're eating mint. Which was odd, because I'm pretty sure there was no mint in it. Altogether, I was not too impressed with the flavor.

The texture was nice. It crunched on the outside (causing it to fail the crumble test) but was soft on the inside, which I liked. I would have preferred more soft to crunchy, though.



And as far as price goes, here are the numbers:135 g., 1.87$ = 1.38¢ per g.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 3 stars
Texture: 4 stars
Price: 3 stars

3 Chocolate chip cookies from Dawson's Market

These cookies just barely squeaked by the 10-cm diameter minimum to qualify as a Giant Cookie.

I ate them away from access to a scale, so I can not speak as to their value, but I don't really think they're worth it. The 3-pack cost me $3.99, which is fairly good as far as Giant Cookies go in general, but they seemed to lack in flavor and wow factor.

The texture was decent, but nothing to write home about either.

The Bottom Line:
Taste: 2 stars
Texture: 3 stars

Spending Spree

When I start buying a lot of things, I sometimes like to catalog them, just so (1) I can keep track of what I got, (2) so I can keep track of the great deals I snagged, and (3) so I have a reminder of how frivolous I'm being, to encourage me to stop it!

Last week, I made three big purchases on eBay, adding up to almost 50 dollars:

A lot of green clothing (6 pieces),
A lot of 5 dresses, and
A skirt set.

Then I bought a yoga mat on Amazon. In order to get free shipping, I added on an 11-dollar pair of shoes, for a grand total of 30 dollars.

A few days later, a pile of discounts combined in such a way that I was able to order a 54-dollar pair of shoes for just 10 dollars. It is an absolutely awesome pair of shoes, by the way. I really hope it fits and the color is right!

Yesterday, an ad directed me to NoMoreRack.com, where I found a hairbrush that promises to detangle my hair gently. I've been having a lot of trouble with my brush lately, so I had to spend the 14 dollars.

Today, purchased a bundle pack of 10 yoga classes for 29 dollars and unexpectedly got an additional 10-dollar discount. That's really cheap, but when you factor in the cost of riding the Metro to get there, it is not quite so appealing. But I'm doing it anyway, because my boyfriend has 900 dollars on his Metro card and offered to let me help him use it up.

Tomorrow, while said boyfriend is drinking it up at a beer and bourbon festival (we're mostly inseparable, but for beer and bourbon, I'll make an exception), I have every intention of using the 20%-off coupon for Shoppers World that comes in the mail every 2 weeks without fail. I might spend up to 10 dollars! Mama needs some new black shorts!

However, I'm still not the high-roller I might appear to be, because tonight I'm going to trade up my broken sofa for a coworker's cat-scratched one. For free! Now, I just need to do something about that non-functioning TV...Or is it the VCR and the DVD player simultaneously? Or is it the cables?