Apology not accepted

I guess I see things a little differently. When it comes to apologies, they mean nothing to me. I never expect anyone to apologise to me and always wonder why when people do. Saying “sorry” doesn’t change a thing. If someone is sorry, I prefer them to show it with their actions going forward. You’re sorry? Great, don’t tell me; show me. If it’s something trivial, like you step on my foot, and I think it’s an accident, I might briefly be annoyed, but I’ll get over it quickly. I’ll be moving on before the ‘s’ has finished sounding. And if I think you did it on purpose, well then I’ll be in your face and we’ll have a problem. Either way, sorry doesn’t come into it.

EDIT: And yet I still find myself apologising to people. Especially strangers. Maybe it’s a British thing, too damned polite.


Daily prompt: no apologies — being alone

What’s the one guilty pleasure you have that’s so good, you no longer feel guilty about it?

Being alone.

I used to feel bad about wanting alone-time. It seemed selfish when others wanted to spend time with me but I wanted to be by myself.

The reality is I function better when I have plenty of uninterrupted time alone. It gives me time to think, process things,  and replenish my energy. I don’t have to filter anything that I’m saying or doing, so it’s not tiring. I’m unrestricted. I can never be completely unrestricted around others, so it will always be a bit more work than being alone.

Delectably devourable double chocolate chip cookie bombs!

Baking is one of my favourite things. I wish I had found it sooner, but I’m glad I found it at all.

I’ve been practising my chocolate chip cookies recently,  I’ve gotten them to a highly appreciated standard, so decided it was time to try a different recipe, and double-up on the chocolate. Besides, I’ve been needing a cookie fix.

I went hunting and found a recipe on Joy the Baker‘s website. If you’re into baking, just stop reading this and go straight there. Her passion for baking is inspiring.

Lost in translation

The recipe was easy to follow, with only a couple of measurements requiring conversion (imperial/US → metric/UK), but something still went awry. My mixture ended up a little dense…

Double chocolate chip cookie mixture

Plus, the scoop I’d just purchased from Sainsbury’s failed miserably. It should have been a batch of 24, but ended up being a batch of 17 — they looked like small rolls. I was so disappointed, but the mixture smelled so awesome.

All’s well that tastes chocolatey

Out of the oven and my disappointment evaporated. I enjoyed a cup of peppermint tea with a couple of these amazing cookie bombs; it was impossible to only have one! And their size turned out to be a blessing in disguise; I managed to only have two, but the temptation was powerful.


I’ll definitely be baking these again. We’re heading to a barbecue on Saturday, so friday might be bake-night


Cookie D’oh!


I was on a website and noticed a small pop-up in the corner. All I saw were the words:

This website…cookies

For a brief moment I forgot everything I knew about the internet (and the laws of nature, apparently) and believed there to be actual cookies available to eat at that very moment, if I just reached into the screen to grab them. I was already wondering where on the page they might be located when I was suddenly slapped back out of bizarro world and returned to this one.

It felt like I was there about 10 seconds but in reality, from seeing the notice to realising that I’m finally losing it, only a couple thousandths of a second had passed. OK…a couple hundredths of a second.

I blame my current obsession with finding a quality cookie dough scoop.


Typecast as 'Joey' from 'Friends' — Photo by Richard Goldschmidt

Typecast as ‘Joey’ from ‘Friends’ — Photo by Richard Goldschmidt

I saw Matt LeBlanc in ES Magazine (tl;dr) and realised I haven’t seen him in anything good since Friends. I thought his spin off, Joey, was average at best. Besides the point. I guess Friends was a gift and a curse because, to many people, he’ll always be Joey. He’s been typecast by that role. But then it dawned on me: I’ve been typecast! Although, admittedly I probably brought it on myself. And don’t we all?

Unless you’ve got multiple personalities or some other mental disorder, you’re probably relatively stable. People you know will inevitably develop a certain image of you; you’ll be associated with certain traits, behaviour and types of activities. And that’s not so bad, right? But we’re more than what others see. What happens when more is revealed? Shock? Awe? Horror? Vehement opposition? How do we escape the trap of being typecast in life? Regular acts of randomness and spontaneity perhaps…