Sometimes, when I’m really bored, I mentally prepare my last meal.

It’s a weird habit of mine, but being Italian, I tend to think of food more than it’s probably recommended, and going through all my favorite dishes in my head is pure heaven—especially when I exist mostly on sandwiches and coffee in real life.

One of the things that will most definitely appear at my last meal are caramel apples.

Now that it’s fall, I walk past the (ridiculously expensive) Farmer’s Market and see them all the time, glistening in their plastic wrapped and ribboned packages.

If you enjoy turning something healthy into something deliriously sugar-packed as much as I do and you’re looking for a fun activity for a dreary Fall day, here’s a fool proof recipe guaranteed to make you the most popular kid on your hall.

The Goodies:
12 Granny Smith (or Macintosh) apples
12 lollipop sticks
1 pound Caramel
Saran Wrap
Melted dark, white or milk chocolate
1/2 cup nuts
1/2 cup M&M’s or favorite candy topping (or more if you’re like me and can never have too much chocolate)
Waxed paper

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I love my Mom. I really do. She reads this site periodically so I REALLY LOVE HER…but, there are lots of ways in which we’re different. I won’t grow up to be like her. It’s just not possible. We’re not alike. I mean it. We’re not.

…But then of course, I think about it, and realize there are ways I am slowly turning into my mother – even though I basically made a blood pact with myself such a thing would never happen.

5) I talk to the TV / movie screen

To this day, one of the most annoying things my mom can do in my presence is talk through a TV show or movie. Either she’s explaining to the room how stupid something is, or she’s asking questions that she wouldn’t have to ask if she would just LISTEN in the first place (“what’s happening here? Why is he like that?”). We have gotten into huge, giant fights about this habit of hers, and the one time I told her to be quiet in a rather nasty tone she got so pissed I thought she was going to set me on fire.

So yeah, I hate this habit of hers when she’s around, but when I’m alone or with friends…I freaking do the exact same thing. I don’t understand it. It’s like I’m compelled to slip snarky comments into the dialogue everyone’s trying so hard to hear. It’s horrible. I can’t stop.

4) I shop at Ann Taylor

When I was younger, and my mom would bring me to the mall, we’d always have to walk inside this bevy of sensible dresses and cashmere cardigans. The pastels would immediately make me feel like I needed to take a nap, and even my mother’s excited yelps of, “they have petites!” could not convince me to spend money there.

However, just the other day, I found myself drawn to the windows of this store, and then pulled inside, by the very same cardigans that used to make me want to vomit boredom. Plus…they have petites. Read More »