Golly, thank you ever so much!

Is what you will NEVER hear me say, when I get inundated with unsolicited advice. 

I think most 20 somethings are giving me internet "amen"s right now. (at least I hope so, since I just high-fived my computer screen...somebody met me on that one, right?) 

I mean, I'm the first to admit that most guys and gals in their twenties are complete imbeciles in some (if not all) areas - myself included. 

Unlike a few of my other blogging claims, (I'm not actually sure of Willow Smiths sidewalk chalk skills) I'm not lacking on evidence on this one..Have any of you watched the Jersey Shore for even .6 seconds? 

Those ultra-tanned, leopard-printed, fist-pumping, Mensa candidates are millionaires controlling huge amounts of commerce not to mention broadcast time and media saturation...and with all that 'smushing' going on...one day...they WILL reproduce.

Yeah, I'll give you a minute to let the goosebumps fade and the flow of air to return to your lungs. 

But hey, here's another fun fact - despite the severe idiocy being displayed by our generational peers, some of us are actually trying! 

Yes, I graduated in four years from a real school with a real degree.

No, I didn't major in keg stands. (I'm lame enough that I'm not even sure if that should be 1 or 2 words)

Yes, I have a job. I actually have 3. 

Yes, they all pay. 

No, I don't consider this blog one of them. 

No, I don't carry credit card debt.

Yes, I am paying on all my exorbitant student loans.

And yes, I do have my nose pierced... Let me get you my smelling salts.

Oh and...Yes, kind lady who constantly offers me financial advice whenever she sees me (at one of my 3 JOBS), I am living with my parents by a fiscally responsible choice. NOT because I maxed out my credit cards buying Snuggies.

**shocking pause for dramatic effect**

I realized that by putting facts about my life on the web I would avail myself to certain stupi...valuable pearls of wisdom, but my goodness....

So yes, this blog post turned into a bit of a rant. Oh well. It's actually been rather eye opening to be on the other end of the gossip train. 

Don't get me wrong, I have been known dish some serious dirt with my best friends once in a blue moon (or more often than that if wine and copious amount of Indian food are involved - you know who you are)....Hey, I'm not saying I'm proud of it, but at least I'm honest.

Basically, I've decided that the everyday use of coy, scandalous banter a la Sex and the City is bologna. 

It literally doesn't exist. 

You can't spend your days blabbering about so and so and judging blahdy blah about their life without it coming back to bite you. 

Maybe it's time to start with our own integrity. 

Sorry I was distracted by the epic depth of my own thoughts *sarcastic cackle*...What else was I supposed to write about? 

Oh right...the most reliable thing in my life...Food.

I'm joking, please don't stage an intervention for me...unless I start noshing on pure corn starch or couch cushions like those gems on TLC...

Let me ask you: What's more all around honest and genuine than a roast chicken and vegetable dinner?  It's a solid meal. No corners cut, no ingredients you can't pronounce, nothing to second guess, and a very dead chicken that will NOT be clucking at you...you're getting enough of that...

So let's get down and dirty with this classic and simple recipe....and in keeping with the honesty theme I will disclose that my dearest Dad helped me prepare this feast, thus the lack of photos - but hey, he rocks, so digital kudos to him!

Step One: Preheat oven to 315. Rinse whole (raw) chicken 5-8 lbs in cold water - NO SOAP!.... I hate that I have to say that, but it's for the same reason that my stove came with a warning tag reading "do not insert live animals" ..sad days, America.

Anyways...

Step Two: Remove any innards - don't worry, they should be in paper or plastic bag inside the bird - unless you bought your chicken on the black market. Rub whole bird inside and out with sea salt, black pepper, and rosemary. (Insert a halved lemon into the bird if you're brave)

Step Three: Cut 3-5 sweet potatoes, 6 large carrots, 1 sweet onion. Place in ceramic dish.

Step Four: Crush and chop 6 cloves of garlic. Add to vegetables with salt and olive oil enough to cover all. Cover with foil.

Step Five: Place bird upside down in a ceramic (or glass) baking dish. Cover with foil.

Step Six: Put both dishes in the oven. Bake veggies for 1.5 hours and remove. Bake chicken 1.5 hours or until skin is golden brown and flesh appears solid white inside. 

Step Seven: Allow the chicken to rest 5-10 minutes while you enjoy the drool-worthy scents wafting through your kitchen. EAT.

 

Smell-o-Vision, why do you only exist in cartoons?

 

So...

Sick of Aunt Mabel and Uncle Marvin whispering when you enter a room and following it up by asking if you're ever going to 'settle down'? 

Fed up with your parents' friends somehow knowing the intimate details of your life and interrogating you about it?

Twenty-somethings, let's grow up a little faster, eh? 

You've got a couple options.

1. If you're a capable, bill and tax paying adult who suffers from a steady wave of obnoxious, albeit well-meaning, advice, first of all - I'm sorry. Word to the wise: A well-practiced plastic smile will get through hours of useless chatter... However, maybe it's a good reminder to keep your nose in your own business and not poking through all the potential dirt of those around you. Notice I said potential...You know what they say when you ASSume...I need go no further.

2. If you're a Snooki wannabe who is currently meandering across the globe depleting the world's alcohol supply while simultaneously smearing the reputation of any and all 20-29 year olds...well, maybe you should reconsider your choices and stop giving Aunt Mabel (or perhaps a someone who actually exists) reasons to gossip about your life and corresponding failures. Harsh? Oh well.

Big Pimpin while spending little to no 'cheese' OR Living Life to the Full When Your Tank is on Empty

You guys wanna hear my sarcastic voice?

Check it:

"My oh my! The economy is simply booming these days, don't you think? I honestly can't keep track of my dividends! Oh my heavens, I just MUST get to Nordy's (Nordstrom's for all you simple folk) today. I hear the new Cavalli is finally in. Besides, on the way over I can have Jean-Claude swing by Cartier...."

Yeah, I just got a little nauseated. Sorry for the abrupt ending.

So as most of you have probably gathered from my last two posts, a huge influx of excess cash is not one of my 99 problems. Remember? My phone doesn't connect to the internet! I'm practically a pauper!

Unlike the endless stream of celebrity wealth that I digest during my daily entertainment consumption, I don't have to agonize about choosing between taking the Benz or the Rolls to the Hamptons. (I'm rocking a used Honda Civic, baby.) I don't walk into a Carrie Bradshaw clothing mecca each day only to whine that I have nothing to wear. Don't get me wrong, I do my fair share of whining. I just do it crouched in the back of the closet that I share with Husband (usually after I've hit  my head on his t-shirt drawer).

When entering a store, my carnal instinct is suddenly bypassed by the uncontrollable need to speed walk past the shimmering beauty of new merchandise straight to the back on the hunt for beloved red tags and clearance signs.

The bane of my existence is summarized in this sad fact: I'm plagued with the consistent constraints of living ...DUN DUN DUUUUN......on a budget.

And let's be honest. As fiscally responsible as this is - it's boring as anything. Yes, I know. It gives you a chance to be creative and learn how to 'live lean'. It sounds so nice when you put it that way, but even the biggest homebody (which I am) can only stand so many nights of playing 'bored'-games and stealing my parents' Netflix.

Saying no gets old pretty fast.

I want to work out. Can I go to the gym? You need a membership for that, so no. I'll just awkwardly do pilates in my living room. Can I try on this dress I'm drooling over? What if it looks good and I want to buy it? The pain of leaving it lonesome on that hanger isn't worth it. No. Can I drive to Acadia at the drop of a dime to enjoy a hike? Gas is $4 a gallon. $4!! And where is my tank now? Oh a 1/4? So..No. Would I like to go on a date with Husband more than once a month? Yes. Does going to a restaurant/bar/movie theater/bowling alley (don't judge) still cost money? Okay, then no.

See what I mean?

Living on a budget in the colder months....Well, sometimes I get cabin fever.

When I do, it usually results in going shopping impulsively or forcing Husband to take me to dinner where I have more than my share of rich/fried food and beer. It always seems like a great idea at the time (YEAH! DAMN THE MAN! I'M GONNA EAT THIS WHOLE PLATE OF SWEET POTATO FRIES!) But at the end of it all I end up in the line at TJ Maxx with bags of returns (yeah, even my splurges are calculated) or with a stomach ache and low self-esteem from shoveling trans fats into my body.

So this past week, I started spiraling into self pity. It was not one of my proudest moments. I basically wanted to conduct my life like a Real Housewife...you know, "Oh I'll just order the blah blah blah...because I can. Oh these sunglasses? $24 thousand. Did you know? And then I'll flip a table because I have so many real problems...like gossiping about my fake friends."

I told you - not a personal high.

Regardless, I decided there must be another way to trick myself into feeling like I'm rolling in it. As usual my solution was food related. (This should not surprise you.)

What can I afford?

Ah, the beauty of post-Easter candy sales.

After diving into the red bin in the front of Rite Aid (yet another low moment), I quickly decided I'd be making a dessert. Not just any dessert. A peanut butter chocolate layer cake stuffed with 80% off Easter peanut butter cup eggs.

Feast your eyes on this goodness.

Step One: (PREHEAT OVEN to 350 F) Whisk together 2 cups flour (I use whole wheat pastry), 2 teaspoons baking soda, 2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa, and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Set aside.

Step Two: Combine 1 stick softened butter (1/2 cup) and 1 1/3 cup granulated sugar and beat until well combined.

Step Three: Add 1 cup egg substitute (I'm trying to save your hearts, people) and 2 teaspoons vanilla to butter/sugar. Beat well.

Step Four: Alternately add dry mix from step one and 1 cup of low-fat buttermilk starting and ending with dry mix. It's worth the hassle for batter maximum fluffiness.

IT'S SO FLUFFY! I'M GONNA DIE!

Step Five: Split batter into two buttered and floured cake pans. What? You don't own two round cake pans? Me neither! So in my case, two square glass baking dishes. (Not ideal, but you can make it work)

Step Six: Bake for 30-50 minutes. Yes, it can differ this much depending on what pans you use and how lame or awesome your oven is. Keep an eye on these bad boys and you should be set.

Step Seven: Let cakes cool completely. Remove from pans. If you're blessed with real circular cake pans - good for you, you're done! If you're a sap like me with square pans - take a small plate that fits inside the square cake and trim off excess. Eat excess. (haHA! Saps for the win!)

Now for the best part...the filling.

Completely worth losing the respect of all the cashiers at Rite Aid.

Step One: Acquire a large bag of peanut butter cup eggs after shamelessly pawing through piles of leftover Easter candy at your local drugstore. Chop into small chunks. Place in freezer. Don't worry if your freezer is stuffed full....see below

Where there's a will there's a way.

Step Two: Make peanut butter frosting. And no, I'm not giving you the recipe.

You're probably like, "Oh Lily, you're so funny. You're going to give it to us. This is just the set up for some cheap one-liner, right?" Wrong, friends. Frosting is made from butter, milk, confectioners sugar, and good salty peanut butter, but I'm not giving you the ratio. Combine them to your taste and make sure it's sturdy in texture and can hold up to being squished between two glorious cakes.

If you're lucky (or awesome like me), it should look something like this.

Step Three: Take half of the frosting and mix in 3/4 of the chopped peanut butter cups. Spread mixture on top of bottom cake layer.

Step Four: Stack second cake and spread remaining frosting on top.

 

Step Five: Make a simple chocolate ganache by combing approximately 9 oz of good dark chocolate chips with 1 cup of half and half (or heavy cream if you're going big) in a double boiler over medium heat. Stir until smooth and thickened.

 Step Six: Remove from heat. Pour over cake.

 Step Seven: Avoid drooling on cake while smoothing with angled spatula. Cover with remaining peanut butter cups

Step Seven: Cut, Eat, Soak in the glory of being spoiled with chocolately goodness, Repeat.

Hopefully by this point most of you beautiful readers have caught on that I haven't really stopped being sarcastic. My life (and statistically speaking probably yours, too) is not pathetic, constrained, or empty. Although, I'll be the first to admit that I feel that way sometimes often. Why? Well, we have good fortune to live in a world where status has become the crux of how we rate the success of our lifestyle. How many times can we shop per week? What model car do we drive? Where do we go on vacation and how often? What logo shamelessly promotes itself on our t-shirts?

For example: "Is the new iphone out yet? How about NOW?? Only 4 days, 3 hours, and 31 minutes! I swear I'll be the first one to get it!"

Followed by..."I GOT THE NEW iPHONE, SUCKERZ!

Followed by..."ARE YOU KIDDING there's already a NEWER model being released?!?!!"

Even if I had the resources of Jay Z, Ryan Seacrest (that guy has really moved up since American Idol Season 1), and all the Real Housewives combined, there's no way I (or anyone) could keep up unless I made it my utmost priority.

Yes, you're catching on.

That's exactly my point. I like knowing how to survive without being able to act on my every whim. I'm proud to know how to 'live lean' and be creative with my time and resources. I bet Ryan Seacrest doesn't know that Monopoly gets infinitely more fun when Free Parking includes getting the last chocolate chip cookie and landing in jail means you have to yell embarrassing facts out the window of your studio apartment. I bet Willow Smith doesn't enjoy drawing sidewalk chalk portraits as much as I do.

So, when that new car mocks you from the dealership or the sparkly dress taunts you from the store window, go home...make this cake...and remember that it probably tastes a lot better when traveling from your 1990's oven onto your paper plate than ordered from a menu.

When gas prices get you down or cutbacks slash your income in half, remember that you have knowledge and wealth in your life that Madonna could never buy (or choke out of you with her terrifying biceps).