Recipe: Lemon-Drenched Lemon Cake

A few weeks ago, I came across a recipe for lemon cake on the Siriously Delicious blog. If you've never seen this blog, and you feel like drooling to the point of short-circuiting your keyboard, I suggest you check it out. She's always posting recipes and photos that make me look down at my Uncrustable in shame and wish I was more business-in-the-front like her.

This is my attempt.


2 2/3 cups all-purpose flour
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
2 1/3 cups sugar
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
6 large eggs, room temperature
2/3 cup heavy cream
Zest of 2 lemons, finely grated
1 stick, plus 7 tbsp unsalted butter, melted and cooled

For the Syrup
1/3 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
Juice of two lemons

Preheat oven to 350F. Butter and flour two 9x5-inch loaf pans.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

If you can, get some cheap labor to do it for you.

In a large bowl, combine sugar and lemon zest. Use your fingers to work it all together until it's completely combined.

Add eggs and whisk into sugar until incorporated. Whisk in vanilla and then cream. Use a large rubber spatula to gently stir in the dry ingredients in 3 or 4 additions. The batter should be smooth and thick. Fold in melted butter in 2 or 3 additions, until combined. Pour batter into pans.

Bake for 55 to 60 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean. At the 30 minute mark, check to make sure the cakes aren't getting too browned. If they are, cover with foil tents.

Once the cakes are in the oven, start making the lemon syrup. Stir water and sugar over medium heat until the sugar melts. Bring to a boil. Remove from heat and stir in lemon juice. Transfer to a heat-resistant contain and set aside to cool.

When the cakes are done, set them on top of a wire rack to cool for five minutes before removing from their pans. Place the rack over a baking sheet lined with wax paper. Use a thin skewer or cake tester to poke holes all over the top of the cakes. Brush with the lemon syrup. USE ALL OF THE SYRUP. It will seem like a lot, but seriously, use it all.

- I used salted butter because that's what we buy.

- I don't have two loaf pans, so I used one loaf pan and one 8x8 pan. I checked with Siri (the blogger, not the robot) about which pan to use and how it would affect the cooking time and temp. She said she actually used two 8x8s and cooked at the recommended time/ temp and they came out fine.

-The bottom of my cakes came out a little dry. I'd start checking them about 5-10 minutes earlier next time.

-It was a real trick getting the cakes out of the pans. They were baked in pretty solid and even after letting them sit for a good 30 minutes, a corner of the 8x8 cake fractured and broke off. I just stuck it back together, ala Cliff Huxtable.

I served my cake with fresh whipped cream and boysenberry syrup. 

The consistency of this cake is definitely more like bread, than cake. Specifically, more like corn bread. The top was, by far, the most flavorful part of the whole thing. It seemed like the overcooked'ness of mine, along with maybe the syrup not reaching all the way to the bottom, resulted in "delicious and tangy" sitting on top of "dry and mealy".

Because of the lacking lower half, I used the remainder of the heavy cream to make fresh whipped cream. Just add a dash of vanilla and about half a cup of powdered sugar and it tastes surprisingly similar to clotted cream. Just make sure not to over-beat, otherwise you'll end up with butter. I made that mistake which basically turned my cake into homemade, lemon-flavor Eggo waffles served with butter and syrup.


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Once Upon a Time, I Wore a Wig to a Frat Party.

I don't know why, but I've been on a hair kick lately. More specifically, I was thinking about a hair "fall" I used to have.

For those of you who don't know, a fall is basically a clip on ponytail.

You know, something really stupid like this.

One night- I must have been around 20 or 21- I was going to a frat party at UCLA. Since I had short hair, and short hair at a frat party pretty much means no one would spit on you if you were on fire, I decided to clip on my magic hair.

I remember I was wearing something equally embarrassing too. Capris and a t-shirt with the Playboy bunny across the front. That I bought from a Wet Seal knock-off store.


So, I was at the frat party, dancing my generic capris off and some dude made his way over to me. I thought he was hot stuff so we started dancing together.

I could tell he was really into me by the way his drunken, crossed-eyes would focus in the same general vicinity as my face. Lucky for us both, the lights were low and the drinks were strong, and I'm pretty sure neither of us even knew what planet we were on, much less be able to identify each other in a police lineup.

At one point, he decided to run his fingers through my hair. At that same point, I started having a mental freak-the-fuck-out moment. 

"Oh my GAWWWD! He's going to rip my fucking FALL OFF!! This is SO embarrassing! What am I going to do??!?"

I managed to stretch my neck out like a giraffe to follow the movement of his dumb, drunk hand so as to minimize the rip-off-ability.

And I made flirty eyes.

And then I playfully swatted that shit away.

No one messes with my fake hair.

We probably made out by the end of the night. I can't really remember. Maybe not though. I may have just bailed early to grab a burrito on the way home.

It was a special moment, I'm sure.

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Hairstyles That Should Be Allowed Nowhere. On Any Planet. Ever.

I don't care if she can see the future, she needs to start seeing the present. 


Straight bangs with curly hair. Her own babies can't even bare to look at it. 

You're not fooling anyone with those natural looking hair extensions.

I know this is a wig, but I used it as an excuse to throw her ugly ass in here too. 

I saw these two pix and they were too good to pass up. Lol.

Haters wanna hate. 

The fuck is this anyway??

And then I came across this badboy. At least his hair serves a purpose. 

Have a good weekend!
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Surprisingly, It Doesn't Take Long For Muscles to Forget Everything They Know About Working.

After my surgery, I took it easy on my "core". You know, I cut back on all those P90X workouts and spinning classes and whatever other cliche workout routines exist these days. With five cuts through my abdomen and a newly crotchet'd colon, I did NOT want to risk bursting any seams.

At my post-op appointment on August 10th, my doctor told me to keep taking things easy for at least another week. No workouts. No stretches. No lifting more than 10 pounds at a time. Plenty of resting.

So here I am, eleven days later and I figure it's safe to start putting my ripped core to good use. Nothing fancy. Just using my straight up 6-pack to launch myself out of bed/ off the couch, instead of rolling off the edge like an inchworm.

This is where the sadness happens.

What little stomach muscles I had before the surgery are fucking loooong gone.

Not only do I not have ANY working muscles in my abdomen, but everything is still sore. Which pretty much means I'm just going to remain in this comatose-type existence until I have to use my Medic-Alert or Jitterbug to call for help.

And adding insult to injury, my colon is a whole other set of lazy problems.

For the first three weeks after my surgery, I was on a low-fiber diet. For those of you who don't know, fiber is what makes you poop. If you're not eating it, you're not pooping. Which is exactly what my doctors wanted: plenty of "alone time" for the resection to heal. Only now, we're on week four since my surgery and my colon has not only been sliced and diced, but it's completely zoned the fuck out on what it's supposed to do. So I get the feeling like "Oh my God, Yes! I need to go poop!!" and I run to the toilet and nothing happens. Do you know how hard it is not being able to get your butt to work??

Because I had a resection, and the muscles and nerves were actually CUT through, it takes a while for things to start working like normal again. They need to be retrained. They need to learn how to "work things out." Unfortunately, I'm no ass trainer and it's getting pretty frustrating sitting on a toilet, feeling like I'm doing the work with no results. My stomach is holding up its end of the deal, and my butt is like "I like turtles."

I've given up on trying to look human.

Because of this backside laziness, I've had to bring out the big guns:
-Cherry tomatoes

I'm still chugging the Senokot/ Miralax like it's a $1 cocktail at Happy Hour. Which makes for a pretty eventful afternoon when I'm at the bank and all of a sudden I feel everything in my stomach drop straight to my butthole and then I have to Mario Andretti myself home before I poop all over my fucking car.

What's the lesson in all this? Muscles are dumb and forgetful. And also, you shouldn't leave the house when you're power-loaded on laxatives.

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Eating and Pooping: My Life After Surgery

I'm sure you've all been wondering how my bowels are doing since the surgery.

Lucky for you, I'm here with all the details. Well, except for the details from my rectal exam. That's a horror I don't care to relive.

I had my post-op appointments and things are looking good. Both of my surgeons said my incisions are healing well and my belly feels fine. The internal stuff seems to be on track as well. Yay!

My clothing has progressed from nightshirts to loose fitting pajama pants and loose fitting stretch pants. Or basically anything that's loose fitting. Unfortunate for me, my normal wardrobe usually consists of jeans that cook up my muffin top. The thought of wearing jeans right now makes my stitches cry. So if you see me around town and I'm wearing drawstring hobo pants, that's why. I'm also still wearing hospital underwear. Which is practically one step away from Mormon underwear.

Mormon underwear.

More great news- my diet was promoted!! For the first several weeks, I was on a low-fiber diet. It was basically no raw fruits/ vegetables, only cooked fruit/vegetables that are fork tender, nothing with skin or seeds, no whole grain products, no nuts, no beans, and no tough or thick cuts of meat. Essentially, I was on a "white-flour only" diet. I knew that ahead of time and going into this, I was like HALLELUJA ALL OF MY FAVORITE FOODS!!! But it's surprising how many foods have sneaky little "non-approved" items in them that you don't even think about on a normal basis.

Now I've been given the green light for going back to my normal diet. I'm excited to be able to eat pretty much whatever I want again. However, this "normal" diet seems to be causing some EXCRUCIATING indegestion pains. We're talking the churning gurgle that groans from the depths of the bowels and feels like someone is blowing up a balloon inside of you, but no matter how hard you try and wish and pray, no farts are exiting the premises. Because of these pains, which are totally normal, along with my newly built butthole, I have to take the following medications on a regular basis:

- 4 Ibuprofen every 6 hours, round the clock
- 2 to 4 Senekot-S per day
- Gas-X at least once a day, or as needed
- Miralax if it's been more than three days since a poop
- Norco for pain as needed

Let's talk more about poop!

So, before I had the surgery, I spent lots of time reading chat boards about bowel resection. I wanted to know what was common, what to expect, etc. Based on what one of my surgeons told me, it was a safe bet that I could count on lots of sharting in my near future. This is apparently because the colon has been cut through and, obviously, the nerves are basically shot for a good amount of time. What I found online only added to the weird factor: "several small stools throughout the day." To be exact, "10-20 small stools throughout the day."

When I read that, I was like "What the fuck...?" The likelihood for that happening to me was low since I barely pooped like 2-3 times a week. Well, with that said, we obviously know where this is going.

The "10-20 small stools throughout the day" thing is no joke. It happened to me. Every hour, on the hour, your butt is like "Hey! I'm really happy for you. I'ma let you finish. But first we're gonna make a lotta little baby poops."

In the two weeks since I came home, my days pretty much look like this:

Day 1-3: no poop
Day 4: 10-20 small turdlets
Day 5-6: no poop
Day 7: load up on laxatives because my guts are full of solid gold shit
Rinse and repeat

What else is about it?

I've had some pretty great visitors over the past week. I haven't driven since before the surgery since I'm still taking Norco, so without these visitors, and Boyfriend at work all day, I'm pretty much losing all social interaction skills. I'm sure by the time I go back to work, I'll be acting like Jodie Foster in Nell.

Some of my favorite gifts:

A "Get Well Soon" soup spoon (thanks, Melissa!)

Kitchen items for when I'm back to cooking (thanks, Christina!)

My favorite cupcake, from Susie Cakes (thanks, Dr. Busch!)

And of course, the chili pepper crown (thanks, Mom and Tanya!)

Since I got my first of two clearances to eat whatever I want, Boyfriend and I celebrated by going to a local favorite spot. I took it easy with an avocado taco and iced tea. After being on a limited diet, that taco was like dining with Julia Child.

I never thought I'd say this, but... It's good to be eating healthy food again!!!

At my second post-op appointment (I had two surgeons), my doctor gave me the following advice: Don't focus on your anus. Only, she's French, so it sounded a lot more like "Zon't focuz on yo anuz." Which I thought was super funny. She went on to explain that when you've been experiencing pain for so long, it's easy to focus on any feeling you have in that same area. That's what you shouldn't do. Discomfort is expected, as it will take six months to fully heal. But don't think about that, just focus on enjoying life. Which I thought was great advice.

And with that, I leave you with: Zon't focuz on yo anuz.

(To anyone with endometriosis, or anyone who may be thinking about undergoing surgery: If you have questions that you're not comfortable posting in the comments section, please feel free to email me! My email address is TILTE at live dot com.)

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The One Where I Tell You All About My Surgery.

Guess who's back from the dead.


First of all, I'd like to say a huge "THANK YOU" to all of the well-wishes I received here on the blog, as well as on Facebook and Twitter. And an especially appreciative "I LOVE IT" to all of the people who sent flowers and gifts. Your thoughts are definitely appreciated and have motivated me to get back to oversharing as soon as possible.

And to those of you who didn't send me shit, I've taken note.

Secondly, I'm going to have no less than a ton to say about my surgery and recovery process. So this would be the perfect time to use the bathroom and grab five drinks. Because we're going to be here all day. And since I'm still cross-eyed from taking Norco every four hours, most of this post may turn out to be a bunch of jibber-jabber that makes no sense. And this post has also taken me a week to compose, which means I can guarantee it will be all over the place.


Got up and showered as usual. Made sure to do my hair since I wanted to look beautiful and fresh and glamorous and be mistaken for Audrina Patridge while in hospital. Did one last pre-op weigh in to see where all of this illness/ stress/ bowel cleanse had left me. Since I'm a lady, I won't tell you what I weighed. But I will tell you it was less than when I got married back in 2007.

Okay, twist my arm, it was 115.

Made it to the hospital right on time. I was lucky enough to have my surgery take place in this newly opened hospital in Santa Barbara. All of the rooms are private (no sharing the TV!) and patients can choose their own meals from the delicious looking menu via room service. Obviously, that was the part I was most looking forward to.

Hung out with Boyfriend, Mom, and sister Tanya in the pre-op waiting room. Started to get nervous, but luckily a nurse called me in after only about 10 minutes. I was escorted to my pre-op room. There, I changed into a hospital gown and some sickly and embarrassing looking grippy socks. The nurses drew blood, applied the EKG sticky pads to my chest, and inserted the I.V. Then Boyfriend, Mom, and Tanya were able to come visit me until surgery time. We hung out, cracked some jokes, and watched TV. Once I was taken into this pre-op area, I was no longer nervous. I was actually kind of excited. I was about to go in for surgery!

We all said our goodbyes and my surgical nurse wheeled me into the O.R. I wish I would have been able to take video rolling through the hallways and into the O.R. because it was a really strange perspective and it almost felt surreal. But I guess if you've ever seen E.R., or any medical show really, you probably already have a good idea of how that whole thing goes.

INTERESTING: The surgical table has about 2 inches of this weird, squishy mat on top (see photo below). This keeps the body from skidding all across the room while docs are tugging in different directions.

My particular table also had a hole cut out from the butt section of the mat. I'm assuming this was in case they had to perform a full Assectomy on me.

My surgical nurses were cool and we cracked some more jokes. They placed a breathing mask over my face and that's the last thing I remember.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a recovery room. I don't remember too much of that other than my family was there and I saw them for about a second before I fell back asleep. The rest of the day and night, I slept.

Total surgery time: 4 hours.

Apparently, someone in my family had me pose, as I was being rolled into my hospital room, wearing a tiara with chili peppers and "HOT STUFF" on it. I had no memory of this until Boyfriend reminded me. I don't know if this is my family's idea of "funny", but I'm pretty sure I like it.

My "Get Well" flowers. They were all SO beautiful and the nurses kept commenting on how good my room smelled. Thankfully, they were saying that instead of "What the fuck is that smell...?", which is actually what I kept asking myself by day three every time I caught a whiff of my armpit.


Slept great until the doctors made their rounds in the middle of the night (see: 6:30am). Slept as much as I could in between the endless gang of hospital staff that weaved their way in and out of my room. This included my two surgeons and each of their teams of 3-4 other doctors, dietitians, newspaper delivery, room service, nurses to check vital signs every hour, house keeping, etc.

First day of eating. Clear liquids only.

Pain medication every four hours- shot of Morphine straight into the ol' IV.

That day, they removed my catheter. Surprisingly it wasn't as torturous as I imagined it was going to be. Instead, I just felt a slight tickle and it was done. Although, now that I think about it, maybe it really was as torturous as I was imagining, but since I was loaded on morphine, I didn't really notice. The nurses also had me get up and walk to the bathroom. That ended pretty well when I blacked the fuck out and the nurse had to save me from face-planting. I took it easy after that and slept the rest of the day. I also had some post-colonic diarrhea that looked like something from the La Brea Tar Pits. A nurse had to wipe me down with a wet wash cloth. By this point, my dignity had high-tailed it out of there and was trying to hitch a ride down the 101.

My view.


Doctor rounds at 6:30am. They would look at my incisions, sometimes press around lightly, ask if I've been getting out of bed, take some notes and leave. They were always very nice, it was mostly just the waking up part that made me want to spit venom.

Lunch was promoted to soft foods!! I had about 5 plain penne pasta noodles, half of a white roll, and some apple juice. Since I'd been on clear liquids for the previous five days, I didn't have much of an appetite and it didn't take much to fill up.

As you can tell, the morphine was great.

In actuality, this is much closer to what I looked like. When I tried to look human, that is.

A bladder scan showed that I was "retaining", meaning I felt empty but was actually still full. Had to get catheter #2. Blood in urine. Doctors requested more blood work. Diet was demoted back to clear liquids.

Flipped the fuck out because people kept coming into my room and I was tired as shit due to waking up the previous night every hour, on the hour, to use the bathroom. The nurses put a Do Not Disturb sign on my door and finally I got some peace and quiet and naps.


As my surgeons stopped by throughout the morning, they shared their surgical findings with me.


Well, they removed all of the endometriosis they were able to locate, along with a 5cm cyst (larger than the actual ovary itself) from my left ovary. They also removed a golf ball sized mass from my colon, as well as 6 inches of bowel. Something my doctor said was definitely causing pain.

. . . . .

Crazy, right?

Pathology report showed no cancerous cells on any of the biopsies.  THANK GOD.

Hearts and glory and angels singing!!!

Diet promoted to all liquids, not just clear. Dinner was some orange slop that was supposedly "blended chicken noodle soup". Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad. I guess that's what happens when you've been on clear liquids for the past six days. You're desperate enough to eat anything.

Medication was switched to Norco pills. Not as good as the morphine, but still pretty great at taking the edge off of the excruciating incisions and cystectomy. Surprisingly, there was almost no pain coming from the bowel resection. Everything was from the incision and cystectomy- burning, stabbing, tightness, and more burning. I also had the shoulder pain that many people experience after laparoscopic surgery. My sensations may have been dulled due to the heavy meds I was on, but it basically felt like gas pains stabbing in my chest when I took a deep breath. This pain was gone by day four.

Right arm. Blood work every day.

Left arm. (At the time, the needle didn't bother me. Looking at this picture, it's making me cringe.)

WORD OF ADVICE: If you're unfortunate like me and have hairy arms, I STRONGLY suggest you wax/ shave/ buff those things before you're admitted to any hospital. That medical tape is no joke.

Late Thursday night, they did a bladder scan. Same "retaining" problem. This time, they decided to try a "straight catheter", which is when they just put it in to drain and take it back out again a few minutes later. Catheter #3 administered. Bladder was full. Another small blood clot.


Doctor rounds at 6:30am. Over the past week, this doc quickly became my good buddy. He was always in good spirits and joking around. More doctors should be like him.

Nurse checked bladder again hoping the straight cath did the trick. It didn't. Catheter #4 administered. Still no hospital discharge.

Finally took my first shower since being admitted. Aside from the awkwardness of having a catheter hanging out of my privée and my overall lifelessness, it was the best shower of my fucking life. I didn't know how badly I needed it until I was hunched over, sitting on a portable toilet seat, grinding Johnson & Johnson into my face. I attempted to shave my legs, but my sore and bulging stomach kept getting in the way and I'm pretty sure I walked out of that shower stall with two cacti shooting out of the bottom of my hospital gown. Regardless, showers are really a magical thing when it comes to being ill.

Unfortunately, I didn't pack my hair dryer because the pre-op paperwork clearly stated no plug-in devices. So instead of looking like Audrina sauntering up and down the hospital hallway, I looked like Hurley from LOST.

That night, Boyfriend stayed over and we had a slumber party. And by slumber party, I mean we watched the Olympic opening ceremony and then I passed the fuck out.


This is my discharge day. Catheter #4 removed at 6:30am. I had until 2pm to show less then 100cc's in my bladder. If I was unable to get it below 100, I would be going home with a catheter.

Starting around 1pm, it was a race to the finish. Apparently, it's pretty common for patients with catheters to lose control of their bladder muscles/ feelings since they've been rendered useless for several days. It turns out there's a trick for getting these muscles back in working order (aside from Kegels). It's called "the double void" and it's when you use the bathroom, walk around, amd immediately use the bathroom again. So Boyfriend and I would do this. We would walk a lap on my hospital floor and I would use the bathroom. We kept doing this until 2pm. The nurse scanned me. Still 300cc's in me. We kept doing the walk/ bathroom combo. Little by little my bladder was going down. Thankfully, my doctor was cool and didn't rush me out the door. Because if he had, I would have been sent home with another catheter- my 5th one, to be exact.

One of my favorite nurses. Honestly, almost all of the hospital staff that I met were really great. They've set a high bar in case I'm ever admitted to another hospital. Most of the nurses were young and cool and sympathetic and fun and I felt like I had real friends taking care of me. I had this particular nurse twice during my stay and she was great both times. She didn't even rush me during my pee-a-thon.

I think it was finally around 3:30pm that my bladder registered under 100cc's. Boyfriend and I were ecstatic. No home cath for me. I felt like I'd just won my own gold medal in the Urination Olympics.


Doing my best impersonation of "acting normal". Also, Boyfriend snuck in my flat iron.


-There's been some ups and downs. The pharmacy closed before we were able to pick up my meds on my first day home, which made me rage the fuck out. Thankfully, I still had some vicodin here and that held me over until the next morning.

-Pains have gotten more intense since coming home. I'm guessing that's because I'm doing more activities and not just sleeping 22 hours a day.

-It's hard to sleep comfortably. It turns out, those Craftmatic adjustable beds they have in the hospital come in pretty handy when you've had your guts all scrambled up.

-Had to take a shitload of Milk of Magnesia and Senekot-S to finally have a bowel movement (12 days after surgery!) without ripping my new butt open. Since I'm on a slightly modified diet (low fiber), my belly was FULL to the max. I couldn't even lean forward without it getting in the way. By the time I was finally able to go, it was like the gates to shit city opened. I'm not exaggerating when I say I was on the toilet for an hour straight this morning.

-Trying to spread out my Norco pills so I don't become a crackhead and end up on Intervention. Also trying to cut back because they cause constipation. Unfortunately, the pain in my incisions, abdomen, and back don't care that they make me constipated. Things hurt, man. So I'm still taking them semi-regularly.

-The Norco has also given me a crazy ITCCCCCHY rash up and down the right side of my torso. It's red and blotchy and puffy and I look like Eric Stoltz in Mask.

-I've been living in nightshirts like they're regular clothes. With these five incisions in my belly, even the slightest pressure feels like a burning hot sword through my skin. Clothing with a waistband is overrated.

-I'm so grateful for all of the doctors and nurses at Santa Barbara Cottage Hospital who took great care of me. Without the help and comfort these people provided, my surgery and recovery could have had a much different outcome. Dr. Bounoua, Dr. Hogan, Dr. Chang, Dr. Cahill, Dr. Diamond, Dr. Erin, and nurses Naomi, Angie, Terri, Lisa, May Ann, Christina, Jasmin, and Carissa- THANK YOU!!

So that's it for my hospital update! Thanks again to everyone who's followed along on this medical saga. Your support means more than you know.  :)


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Care Package.

Yes, I'm alive!

I'll be back soon with all of the gory surgical details, my friends. Until then, here's an entry I wrote a few weeks ago.



Today I went to visit my mom because she said she had a surprise for me and if there's one thing my mom knows about me, it's that I love surprises and anything that could be construed as "gift-related".

Like any great mom would do, she put together a care package for my upcoming surgery.

The gifts inside of this care package rivaled Christmas morning. IT WAS GREAT.

My favorite items were:

-A nightshirt that read "TXT ME". It's a funny pick for my mom since she usually goes with something much more homely and floral and flannel and Laura Ashley.

-Ramona the Brave. In case I feel like reading. (She knows me so well. My reading maturity level pretty much topped out in the 4th grade.)

-Cloth bandage in case I end up with a colostomy bag. :::this is only funny in an awful way:::

-Bright nail polish. Because that's what all the hip kids on her favorite Korean soap opera wear. She even gave me the tip about painting one nail on each hand in a different color. She's funny. And cool.

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