Here’s a fun fact:  my Mom is a scrapbooker.  She’s a serious scrapbooker.  She’s got the paper cutters, the corner choppers, the fancy albums and colorful background paper… there are stickers…. so so many stickers.  She’s for real.  Scrapbooking is the new rubber stamping.  Remember the rubber stamp craze!?  Yea, we’ve moved on.  Scrapbooking. 

I went to my parents’ house a few days ago to find these envelopes gracing the brick fireplace.  The envelope in front had my name on it.  I was hoping for an early Christmas stocking.  Boy oh boy did I get it.  Among other darling and embarrassing photos of myself, I found a chronological history of my school days.  From preschool to high school.  Every cute, awkward and downright horrifying picture.  

Now.  Because I don’t know any better.  Because I’m certifiably batty… allow me to share with you preschool through seventh grade.  The later, more awkward years will follow, and we’ll all cry. 

Though she will deny it, my Mom gave me this haircut herself.  I remember very well.  Even at four, I knew how ridiculous I looked.  

First grade.  Somehow I think I rise above this bowl haircut.  

Second grade.  That tiny headband is failing…. big time.  Nice frock.  I would totally rock that these days. Is that weird?  That’s weird. 

Nice corner fading third grade!  I feel like there are some serious adult teeth hiding out in that mouth.  

Oooh yes.  Full of teeth.   You have to grow into your teeth.  It’s true.  It’s like puppies with big paws.  Should I tell you how much I loved this Cinco de Mayo dress with matching hair ribbon?  Yes.  A lot.  

Mixed girl hair is a hard thing.  It wants to be curly.  It wants to be straight.  It wants to ruin your life.  What are you going to do?  Button your shirt all the way up and hope for the best. 

a)  Why do the school photographers make you look in the ceiling corner.  It’s awkward.  

b)  I thought this shirt was so clever.  I was right.  

Oooh Joy .  Triangle hair.  So short.  So much volume.  I wish I could have gone back in time to tell you everything would work out ok… but the truth is that you’ve got some seriously awkward years ahead of you.  Yeesh. 

Enjoy the kitchen intermission.  Laugh at me.  Please… go on… laugh.  If your Mom is a scrapbooker, you might not want to laugh as hard.  Your time for an embarrassing envelope will come. 

I went to the Foodbuzz Festival in San Francisco last weekend, and all I got were these silly photo booth pictures with my dear friend Tracy of Shutterbean.  

Ok…. that’s entirely untrue.  

I walked away from the Foodbuzz Festival with more kitchen gear than I could carry, pockets full of fellow food blogger business cards, and a belly full of incredible food.  

A room full of food bloggers means a room full of cameras.  So many.  Rather than crowd around and take pictures of food…. I just took pictures of people taking pictures of food.  Weird.  I know.  

This also happened…

…which was extremely surprising and extremely exciting.  The fact that I ran off the stage after accepting this award adds to my charm, right?  First I blushed.  Then I stumbled a bit.  I dropped my phone.  I might have thrown in an awkward curtsy… and then I ran.  

 Thank you to every single one of you who voted for me.  Seriously, friends.  This means a lot to me.  

Also… a big, fat, wet kiss to all of the darling people at Foodbuzz who put such a belly filling event together for us.  I hella heart you Foodbuzz.  And Tracy…. we’ve had heart-to-hearts at two different blog conventions…. we’re totally friends now, like it or not. 

What’s going on in my world?  

Oooh the usual… just swabbing my cheeks, barcoding the samples, labeling them a biohazard, shoving them in an envelope and leaving them for the postman.  That’s normal… I do this nearly everyday.

I’m swabbing because I just put myself on the Be The Match list with the National Marrow Donation Program.  The National Marrow Donation Program houses a giant list and genetic samples of possible donors… a list about 12 million people long.  Dang!  Doctors look for genetic matches for patients that suffer from life threatening illnesses like leukemia and lymphoma.  Sometimes doctors and patients find a genetic match among the millions on the list… sometimes they don’t.  

If I’m a match, some doctors will come to knock me out and take bone marrow from my lower back.  Someone gets my good bone marrow and I grow my own bone marrow back.  Success!  I decided to become a part of the National Marrow Donation Program because I feel blessed enough to be strong and healthy, and would be more than happy to share that health with someone else.  

It’s a bit commitment … one that I considered for months before signing up.  See, there’s needles… and many hours of prep and testing before the actual donation begins.  And… needles.  

I’m not telling you about the National Marrow Donation Program because I want you to rush out and sign up.  It was the right choice for me… but it might not be for everyone.  But… if you think marrow donation might be right up your alley, well then heck!  Get on it!  I just wanted to share.  Now you know what I’m up to when I’m not in the kitchen making cookie dough, or avoiding dishes, or snacking, or drinking wine, or being otherwise silly and unproductive.  

Now you know. 

You know what’s a good combination?  Fried chicken and cupcakes.

You know what else is a good combination?  Me and you.  You and me.

Thank you for bringing your smiling, shining faces downtown on Sunday.  I don’t know exactly how to tell you how much this picnic meant to me.  Let’s see…. how can I relate this to you?

About a year and a half ago I cried… sometimes.  Not a sad cry.  Oooh no.  It’s just that I was working two tragically minimum wage jobs as a barista and as a baker, finishing up college, driving a car that was worth less than my camera, running from job to job to class to study group, writing papers in a daze and falling asleep in the library weekly.  I would cry just because I was so dang tired.  Do you ever get the tired cries?  Yea… it happens.

In the midst of all that, I started this here blog.  It’s turned into the thing that I can’t wait to sit down and do every night.  You all have become the people that I look forward to connecting with everyday.  It’s just so much a part of me… and now you are too!

So… this picnic.  Well, it was the opposite of the tired cries.  You all made me so happy.  It was so fantastic of all of you to come out to share the love.  Thank you to each and every one of you who came to share the day with me.

Adrianna and Caroline are the darlings behind A Cozy Kitchen.  They’re super sweet.  Seriously.  Ladies.  I like you.

Deanna!  Ooooh dearest Deanna!  Deanna and her friend Sandi drove all the way down from Oregon for the picnic.  Drove…. from Oregon!  Deanna, your dress was super cute.  For reals.

Katie and kids had their own rooftop picnic on Vancouver Island, BC with a dozen cupcakes and… do I see a Cabbage Patch Kid down there!?  Awesome.  Doin’ it up right.  Well played.

Lynne threw an indoor picnic in Ottawa.   They baked the Vegan Chocolate Avocado Cake and wore super cute dresses.  What more could you want!?

It was just the most lovely afternoon ever, and then…..

You know what’s not exactly an awesome combination?  Hay bales and AstroTurf that doesn’t belong to you.  That means a lot of cleaning.

I suppose now would be a good time to thank you… Simon, for literally picking up hay in a sea of hay.  I couldn’t have pulled this picnic off without the help of Michael (the behind the scenes man with the plan), Rachael (cole slaw maven), my Mom and Dad and sister (for late night cupcake baking and chicken runnin’), Whitney (for the best 5 minute makeup job ever), Simon (for all the hay you got in your face… i’m sorry), and Carsen and company (for graciously letting me boss you around).  Seriously you guys.  Thank you from deep down inside my heart.

The next Joy the Baker shindig will have a hired clean up crew.  No joke. We are doing this again.