A Message for Cosby Supporters

I’m going to tell you a story. One that few have heard up until this point. Not even my family knows this (sorry, Mom). There are holes in this story, because I don’t remember much of that night. I don’t remember much of that night because I was drugged.

I wasn’t raped. But only because there were 2 people with me that night that I trusted, whom I could count on to get me home safely. Who knew me well enough to know that something was wrong.

It was a normal night out. Summer in Miami. As with most weekend nights during undergrad, I could be found on Washington Avenue on South Beach or CocoWalk in the Grove. This night we chose The Grove. Cheap drinks, a good DJ, open air, and free admission to Fat Tuesday usually won out anyway. I don’t remember the drink. Maybe it was vodka and cranberry. Maybe Jack and Coke. I do remember ordering one. Just one. I don’t remember the stranger’s face. I do remember his being in my personal space uninvited. I don’t remember leaving my drink unattended. I didn’t. I wasn’t as vigilant about keeping an eye on it, though. I think I remember my friend saying she saw him possibly put something in it. She couldn’t be sure.

I remember thinking I was too drunk after just one drink. I remember my friends thinking the same. I remember them trying to get me to leave. I think I remember the guy who drugged me trying to stop them. I don’t remember leaving Fat Tuesday. I don’t remember how I got to the car. My car that I couldn’t drive home. I remember bits and pieces of the drive home. I remember my guy friend sitting in the back seat with me, making sure I was okay. I don’t remember anything I said to him, but apparently I was hilarious. It’s good they found humor. Maybe it meant I was somewhat okay to them. I won’t let them tell me anything, though.

I don’t remember how I made it home and into my bed. I slept in my clothes. I do remember being sick that night and for days after.  Not being able to keep anything down. The anxiety of trying to remember what happened. The fear of what could have happened. I remember not wanting to drink for a long time. Not wanting to go back to CocoWalk at all. These are moments of my life I will never get back.

And I was lucky. Still, I didn’t say anything. That was over 10 years ago.

So, when I see memes and jokes on Facebook questioning the validity of a rape accusation simply because these women remember Bill Cosby drugging and raping them, I get pissed the fuck off. Because you can and do remember. Even if it’s just in flashes. You. Know.

So, fuck your defense of Bill Cosby.
Fuck his wanting to buy NBC, as if that’s more important than the safety of these women.
Fuck your ignorance of how date rape drugs work.
Fuck your victim blaming and slut shaming.
And just in general, fuck you!

And you wonder why victims don’t tell…

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Yes, You Can Have Too Many Cupcakes #CupcakeCrawl2015

sigh

Sometimes I live such a tough life. We have an author event coming up next month at work, and we’ll need lots of cupcakes. The grave responsibility of finding just the right cupcakes fell on my shoulders. It’s a tough job, but I was willing to take one for the team.

I mean, imagine if we served sub-par cupcakes?! The horror!

So, I roped my friends into going on a cupcake crawl. They didn’t protest too much. In case you forgot, this is our second food crawl (we learned our lesson this time about not eating more than one at any restuarant). We really need to do more of these. I think someone suggested chocolate, or wine and cheese, or both for next time. Why are there so many wonderful restaurants in NYC?

Let’s get to the cupcakes….

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  1. Molly’s Cupcakes – Salted Butterscotch Caramel
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    I had every intention of trying only the mini cupcakes in classic flavors, since that’s what we’d be having for the event. But, salted caramel always calls to me. This cupcake is amazing. Moist, flavorful. Great filling. The frosting wasn’t too sweet. Actually it wasn’t sweet enough for me. But, the rest was so good, it wasn’t an issue. The top bakery of the day and the one we’ll be using for our event. Molly’s also gets points for a whimsical dining area, with swings at the counter, books and games you’re allowed to play with, and a sprinkle station for your cupcakes. Very adorable, fun area for the kid in all of us. Did I mention they won Cupcake Wars on FoodNetwork?
  2. Little Cupcake Bakery – Blue Velvet
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    Presentation matters. We eat with our eyes before food even gets to our mouths, so these cupcakes were a bit disappointing from the beginning. This is supposedly a blue velvet cupcake, but there was hardly any blue color. We Southerners do not play about our Red – or blue – velvet cake. And this just didn’t live up to its namesake. I’m not sure it this was a cake or a muffin with frosting. Aside from said really sweet frosting, there was no flavor. I love sweet frosting, but not if it’s being used to cover up tasteless cake.
  3. Sweet Buttons Bakery – Marple Bacon 
    wpid-20151025_140907.jpgI finally had a mini cupcake like I originally intended. From a bakery that wasn’t part of our itinerary, but Sweet Buttons is a cute little place that caught my eye. And yes, that is bacon. Nice, salty smoky bacon. And paired with the maple frosting, it was delicious! The cake was another disappointment. A little on the dry side. Texture was a crumbly also. I’d eat this maple frosting with bacon sprinkles by the bowl-full though.
  4. Sugar Sweet Sunshine – Coconut Mini
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    This was our last stop. Unfortunately, we had already reached our sugar limit by the time we got here. Maybe that contributes to why this was my least favorite of the 4. Maybe not. This one felt like something I could’ve done at home with a box mix, and with better results. It was very dry, almost to the point of stale. Nothing special about the frosting either. A completely unforgettable cupcake.

I hate sugar now. I don’t want to see anything sweet for the next two weeks at least. I feel totally drained and sluggish. Sugar is just evil, but so yummy.

Drive by Quickie: Wanting

I’m not truly happy.
I go places when I want.
I do things when I want.
I just find myself not wanting to do things more often than not.
Something always seems to be missing.
Nothing is fulfilling.
I’m bored.