Couple of Crumbs

Hi! Welcome to our little blog, run by two old friends who just want to have a place to write... anything we please. Thanks for stopping by!

Funfetti is trying to defy the evils of writer's block one project at a time.

Red Velvet is a quirky little cupcake trying to channel her inner writer.

WINNER! Magical Giveaway

No better way to start a Monday then to announce the winner of our super awesome giveaway.

Don’t forget the winner gets a postcard of the following print and a $10 Starbucks giftcard!

After throwing all our contestants into a spreadsheet, and using random.org - our winner is…………….

KOLEEN ENRIQUEZ

Yay! Koleen, please send us a DM through twitter, or shoot us an email at coupleofcrumbs@gmail.com with your address so we can get your prize to you ASAP!

THANKS TO ALL OF YOU FOR ENTERING!

This is it, HP Fans!

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 has officially been out for less than 24 hours and while us cupcakes haven’t seen it yet (we’re watching tomorrow!), the reviews for the movie are overwhelmingly positive (97% on RottenTomatoes - yay!).  We’ve been preparing for this day now for the almost 2 weeks.  Harry Potter movie marathons (thanks ABCFamily), reminiscing with Random Ramblings on how we grew up with these characters and today, we’re going take a look back on all that COC has said about this beloved series.  

Last but not least, if you entered our Harry Potter giveaway (Magical Giveaway: Harry Potter Style!), we’ll be announcing the winner on Monday. 

Can’t wait to hear what you all think of the movie and we’ll be sure to share our thoughts next week too!  

Summer Lovin’: Claudia Chic - a BSC Approved Guide to Summer Style

Anni is a twentysomething fledgling photographer with a serious case of wanderlust, a tiny Chicago apartment she shares with her wonderful fiance (and whole slew of pets), and a serious affinity for fashion, food, and wine. She blogs about a little bit of everything - including plenty of BSC references - here and you can keep up with her photography here. If you held a gun to her head, she’d admit to being a Stacey more than anything, except for the math part. 

I was so excited when Red Velvet and Funfetti asked me to be a part of their summer series, and even more so when they wooed me with the suggestion of a BSC-themed post. Regular readers of my blog will remember that everything I know about fashion, I learned from Claudia and Stacey. I’m not joking when I say that I had all the Babysitter’s Club books, Super Editions and Mysteries included. I didn’t buy the Little Sister ones (what was up with those anyway? Karen was so annoying!) but I did read the California Diaries when they came out, even though I was far too old to be reading kids’ books at that point.

Stacey, Claudia, Kristy, Mary Anne, Dawn, Mallory, and Jessi taught me a lot about life. For instance, I knew the difference between Type 1 and Type 2 diabetes waaaaay before anyone else in the second grade. And I’m fairly certain that I can blame my love for upper-end department stores on Stacey. Bloomingdale’s is a gateway store, I’m telling you. I desperately wanted to be artsy like Claudia, but I had to settle for our mutual love of Nancy Drew. And Mallory - well, she was a fellow horse crazy girl and writer. If only she had access to the Saddle Club books like I did, I think she would have been a lot less angsty.

Lest you think I’m joking, I’ve done a fair amount of prep work leading up to this post. It’s a hard life, doing research for a fashion-oriented guest post on the BSC, but someone had to do it. A note: if you’re going to re-read your favorite childhood books, it’s best to have a glass (er, bottle) of wine and someone to read aloud particularly hilarious descriptions to and laugh with about the careful way Ann M. Martin presents such politically correct gems as “I guess another thing you should know about the Walkers is that they’re black. There aren’t too many black families in our building. You know what’s funny, though? When I’m with the Walkers I don’t think of them as black, just as people.” Deep thoughts from city girl Stacey!

So, the first holy grail of BSC fashion? When accessorizing, go big or go home. Subtlety is NOT your friend here. Take this flower pin via Emerson Made:

The dress is all Stacey, aka Miss Sophistication, but that flower is pure Claudia. Bright, big, impossible to miss. If it screams look at me, you’re probably good to go. Because what’s fashion if you’re not taking a risk?

Next rule? Tights and/or leggings can and should go under almost anything. Bonus points if they’re neon! But if you want to work a little BSC in your life and neon’s not your scene, feel free to prep it up a little. A get-up like this would even get the seal of approval from Stacey’s New York best friend, Laine.

 

Of course, when choosing an outfit, the brighter the better. This can be applied to colors, patterns, and the general boldness of an outfit. Anyone remember Claudia wearing her dad’s shirts with funky get-ups? Well, Rag and Bone totally stole that. I’m sure Claudia thought up boyfriend jeans, too. Except in PG Stoneybrook, they would have been dad jeans. But unlike mom jeans, they still would have been totally rad, because Claudia would have taken a pair of scissors to them, or maybe just ripped them in some way that Urban Outfitters was years from figuring out. So, if you think about it, all those celebrities should be thanking Claudia. Something to think about, Reese.

But seriously, back to accessories. Dangly earrings are a MUST. Even Dawn, with her California Cool style, knew this. Come to think of it, Dawn probably would have been all over boyfriend jeans and shirts, too. She was always wearing all that chambray. If she waited long enough, she could have modeled for J. Crew. But back to the accessorizing - nothing says free-spirited like a good pair of really oversized earrings. You can find these pretty much anywhere, but bonus points if you find a really cool, unique pair. My favorite go-to is Gabrielle Zwick, who designed these:

Last but not least, when in doubt do as the Kishi would: throw your hair in a side ponytail. You, too, can look this awesome.

That concludes my nuggets of wonderfully funky-yet-sophisticated fashion wisdom from the world of the BSC. I hope you read the books, too, otherwise this probably made me come across just a little bit crazy. I have to say, it was a lot of fun revisiting my childhood faves. Some of my fondest memories from childhood were centered around entire days spent buried under piles of books that were hand-me-downs from family friends, or scored from a garage sale. I think I eventually ended up with the entire collection, although I have no idea where they are now. A big thank you to Funfetti for lending me a few of hers! Any other diehard BSC fans out there

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Claudia Chic - a BSC Approved Guide to Summer Style is part of our Summer Series.

Summer Lovin’: The Ties that… Overwhelm

By: S’more

S’more is a chocolate loving cupcake who dreams of becoming a high school English teacher. She’ll read anything with a YA (Young Adult) stamp on it and loves everything having to do with Disney. She sometimes finds it hard to balance her adult life with her adolescent interests, but prefers to swing it as merely being “young at heart.”

I come from a very small family — meaning it’s just me and my parents. Of course when I was younger, there were more people involved. I had uncles, aunts, grandparents, and a never-ending number of cousins, but when my parents divorced and my house turned into a domestic war zone, most people fled.

Perhaps I was too young to notice or care about the sudden shift (I was only 10 at the time), but when the dust settled and I roughly became an only child, I really didn’t mind it. Divorce it seems was the best thing to happen to my parents. They are truly best friends now who talk everyday and even attend church together on Sundays. I guess you can’t be married to someone for 25 years and just cut all ties. Perhaps some people can, but I’ve always been proud of the pair they’ve become post divorce. It’s been my parents and I against the world ever since.

When I was younger and my mom and I would watch old reruns on Nick at Night, I would cringe at some episodes of The Brady Bunch. Why were those people so damn happy?  One bathroom for six kids hardly seems like a reason to be chipper all the time. My worst fear was that my mother would get remarried to a man who had children and I would be forced to be a part of a big family. Fortunately, my stepfather showed up kid-free and my only child status was unchanged. I glided through high school and college knowing that when I came home, I had my own room, my own bathroom, my own SPACE. Dinners were small. Parties were just with my parents and my friends and the best part was that Christmas was never a race of trying to buy a million presents.

Then I entered my first serious relationship and my small circle suddenly had to stretch to include a bunch of people I did not know. My boyfriend came from a huge family and the thing about coming from a large family is that they are ALWAYS there. It took me a LONG time to get used to the lack of privacy, the constant family dinners and get-togethers. At my house, my mom pretty much left us alone, but at his house, we weren’t even allowed to lie down in the same bed. We were caught napping once and it was a disaster. I felt like I constantly had eyes on me, strangers that judged what I looked like, what job I had, what I ate, etc. And they were never shy about telling me what they thought. When that relationship was over, I was so RELIEVED to be rid of not only him, but his toxic family who ended up being one of the main reasons for our break up. I told myself, “S’more, do yourself a favor and date a boy from a small family. It’s what you’re used to. It’s what you like.”

My current boyfriend has an even bigger family.

My first thought was, “Oh Christ, here we go again.” The good thing is we’re allowed much more privacy this time around. (I’m actually allowed to share a bed with him! Me being 27 and all…) But what didn’t change were the family get-togethers. They are CONSTANT. I’m having a really hard time trying to adjust. His immediate family contains four people (six if you count the significant others) and that crowd isn’t bad. I can hold my own or simply sit back and listen to the conversations, but when you add another 10 or 20, I find it completely overwhelming. His mom is one of 7 and his dad is one of 9. All of these aunts and uncles have kids and some of those kids have kids. We’ve been dating for two years and I couldn’t tell you a Sally from a Marybeth. How can you deal with people all around you having conversations, but none of them are actually directed at you? No one is asking you a thing and when you try to interject, you’re either not heard or overlooked. My boyfriend says that when you come from a large family, you have to learn to speak louder. The thing is — I never had to.

We often talk about getting married someday and part of me delights in the notion of being his wife. The other part is scared stiff of having not a wedding, but a three-ring circus. How do you nicely tell your fiancé that you rather keep your 200+ wedding count down to 50? How do you deal with the fact that holidays and birthdays will forever be this PRODUCTION?

For now, the wedding talk is a moot point since technically there is no ring on my finger. That is one less headache at the moment, but the frustration is still very present. We spent last Thanksgiving with my parents and it was one of the best holidays I have ever had. It was quiet and there was one collective conversation as opposed to fighting to be heard among twenty. I know most people would tell me that if I want to be with this man, this is something I will have to get used to. I really think the main problem I have is that it seems as if I am always trying to blend in with someone else’s family. I am always trying to remember names, relationships, job titles of other people while my significant other has only two people to deal with. Sometimes in my darkest thoughts, I wish I could force him to feel what it’s like for me. I wish I could turn the tables and subject him to the same frustrating and overwhelming feeling of trying to pretend that you really give a shit when strangers go on and on about themselves, but never really ask about you. Believe me, I’m not a very good actress.
 
We all make sacrifices for the relationships we’re in — trust me, I’m trying. Perhaps in a few years, I’ll even learn how to fight for the last drumstick, but until then, I’ll just keep smiling as I sneak glances at my watch.

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The Ties That… Overwhelm is part of our Summer Series.

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Read other guest blogs by S’more!

TV Show Time Machine: The Wonder Years
Mood Music

Summer Lovin’: Little Ghost Girl

Eatinist Bitch hails from Queens, NY and loves food almost as much as she likes to talk. She’s been blogging since Summer 2010, and is currently interning for Robicelli’s Cupcakes in Brooklyn, NY. Check out her blog and like her on Facebook to get recipes, reviews, and other tasty nibbles.

“Can Geico save you 15% or more on your car insurance? Does a 10lb bag of flour make a really big biscuit?”

A mother walks in on her son, standing on a chair in front of the kitchen table. He has a look of utmost calm upon his face as he carefully butters the top of an enormous biscuit. Flour and baking materials lay askew, and a fine cloud of the powdery stuff hangs over all. She stands speechless for a beat, and goes right back out of the kitchen shaking her head and leaving him to his handiwork.

To my friend, Tana, that entire commercial is how she imagines me as a kid: a food obsessed child with permanent flour streaks on her face (also, a biscuit enthusiast). I don’t think she realized how close to home the commercial hit until I told her this story.

On a rainy Saturday, my 5 or 7 year old self took to wandering around the house, because that’s what I did when I was bored. My afternoon cartoons were in reruns, and you could only read the same books so many times. So, why not go exploring? My house isn’t that big, but at the time I thought it was a castle of warm wood and cozy spaces. Even if I couldn’t find somewhere new to play, I could at least find a nice place to nap. Eventually my wanderings led me to our kitchen, one of my favorite places in the world.

I was greeted by the lazy whoosh of the ceiling fan as soon as I walked in. I stood in the middle of the kitchen to assess my situation. Did I want something to eat? Did I want to go to the big bookshelf filled with cookbooks and pull something down to read? I wasn’t hungry for food, or reading or anything like that…I wanted to play. That’s when I turned around and saw it.

My mom had 3 ceramic canisters that she used to keep dry provisions in. One marked “Rice”, and another was marked “Sugar”. The third, well, it was unmarked and looked very different from the first two. Those were on the tall side with square edges and domed lids with grips on the inside of them.  The third container was a circle all around with a shiny white cover that looked like a tam o’shanter cap. And, its belly was always filled to the brim with white, unbleached flour.

 (source)

I pulled a chair over from the kitchen table and climbed on top of it so I would be level with the counter. I positioned the canister in front of me using both hands, because I knew it’d be less likely to fall that way. I pulled off the lid slowly, and a little puff of flour rose into the air. It tickled my nose and made me giggle, and the sound echoed in the silence of the room.

On the side of the flour jar, there was a little ceramic loop that held a little wooden dipper. It was carved smooth and light, and looked like a tiny ice cream scoop. I saw mounds of soft vanilla ice cream in this pile of flour, and I thought it should be scooped as such. I began to scoop the flour, lifting the little trough high in the air, and then turning it over so that the flour would fall out with a soft plop.

The kitchen soon began to smell nutty, as I was sending quite a considerable amount of flour into the air. I had long since abandoned the scoop, and instead, plunged my hands deep into the cool powdery mass, letting it slowly sift through my fingers. My mother didn’t really bake very much (she used the flour primarily to make dumplings, which I despised for their doughy heaviness), but I knew from the cooking shows that I adored and the Jewish bakery that we got our Challah and cookies from, that flour was usually the start of something good. In flour’s pale blank state lay the promise of cookies, pie crusts, cakes, and big fluffy biscuits to drag through rich brown gravy. And aside from all that, playing in the flour was just plain fun.

Now, my back was to the kitchen door, so I hadn’t noticed that my mother had been watching me powder myself and the kitchen counter like a doughnut for the past 10 minutes. There’s always a change in the air around you when you’re about to get in trouble, though. Almost as if the air’s ions are scrambling to find a hiding place because they are scared of your 5’11, Jamaican mother.

Somehow, I came to the realization that something was amiss, and stopped.

I slowly turned myself around on the chair and looked up right into to her big, brown eyes. What a sight I must have been! Face, hands and arms completely covered in flour, and sprinkles of it dusting my plaited pigtails that stuck out like sausages from the side of my head. I was a complete mess. I saw my mom’s hand reach out for me, and I wasn’t too sure I wanted to see what would come after that. I jumped off the chair with a yelp and ran away, twisting around her long legs, and hoping with all of my might that I would disappear, like the little girl ghost that I had become.

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Little Ghost Girl is part of our Summer Series.