Faking It

I mentioned in my UTEP Visitor's Day post that I had made these cupcakes with the underage prospective grad student who stayed with me. They were delicious and really really simple. Plus I had all the ingredients on hand which rarely happens for me so I double love these! The topping didn't end up being the way I wanted, but it all tastes the same, and that taste is delicious! Apple Streusel Cupcakes makes 14 1/2 tsp baking soda 10 oz/280 g jar tart applesauce 4 tbsp butter, softened generous 3/8 cup raw brown sugar 1 large egg, lightly beaten scant 1 1/4 cups self-rising white flower 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1/2 tsp freshly ground nutmeg for the topping generous 1/3 cup all-purpose flour 1/4 cup raw brown sugar 1/4 tsp ground cinnamon 1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg 2 1/2 tbsp butter Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Put 14 paper liners in 2 muffin pans. First make the topping. Put the flour, sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a bowl or in the bowl of a food processor. Cut the butter ...

It's Easter Sunday! And Praise be to God, Lord and Savior of my life whose death gives me life and life eternal! I'm not overtly religious because I don't believe in shoving my beliefs down people's throats; I know everyone has the right to believe what they want. And this is what I believe. Unapologetically. I believe that Jesus Chris is the Son of God. That he was killed on the cross to bring hope and life to those who believe; that the curtain was torn symbolizing immediate access to God, for everyone, through the death of Jesus. Recently I heard a sermon regarding the crucifixion and naturally, in Megan fashion, fixated on one detail. When you read about the burial of Jesus in the Bible (Matthew 27:57-61; Mark 15:42-47; Luke 23:50-56; John 19:38-42) there's a man, Joseph of Arimathea who buries Jesus' body. Joseph goes to Pilate, the ruler at the time who handed Jesus over to the Roman's who would torture, humiliate and kill him, and asks for the body of...

While I was home, briefly, my Mom gave me a great present! And in return I call her weird versions of "Mom." She loves me. I'm almost positive. She's going stir crazy resting after having some major surgery and despite not having any pain or problems (thank God!) is on leave for 6 weeks. So while she's been watching movies and shopping and having 3 hour lunch dates with her friends aka living the life we all want, she made me: APRONS!!! I LOVE aprons!! I bought a really really fun one earlier this year from Pier 1 because I had a coupon and it was adorable! And my Mom decided to add to my collection!! I LOVE THEM! As soon as I saw them in my old room I put them on all at once. St. Patty's Day! The most darling! I LOVE it!!! Caliente! Christmas baking time is almost here!!! Thanks Mombo!!

...this will be potentially the most racist post I will ever allow on my blog. In my defense...the Asians started it. I was preparing to go to Phoenix and participate in my friends' (Morgan and Dash) wedding and wanted to get my nails done because mine were looking a little lot bit heinous. And so I got a referral to a salon. From a friend I no longer trust. Now here's the reality. I live in El Paso. 88ish % Hispanic. Now. In Phoenix, you would not go to a Hispanic salon to get your hair cut because you would come out looking like this: But in El Paso, I have no choice but to have Hispanics do everything for me-they are literally everywhere. No joke, I am exotic because I'm white. Anytime I introduce myself to someone the reaction, literally every time is, "Ooooo!!! What a nice name, I've never heard it before! You won't find many Megan O'Connor's around here!" So I figured, same thing for nail salons right? WRONG! I get dow...

I'm a curious person. Pretty much everything makes me think. And every once in a while a piece of writing really stands out because of how it's written, what the topic is, just because it came along at the right time. This is the long awaited, or rather, long talked about, by me, review of the book that has, essentially, consumed me for a couple of years. A few years ago the family took Erin to the airport to send her off to Germany for the summer. While there I saw a book in the Borders store called "The Girls from Ames: A Story of Women and a Forty-Year Friendship" by Jeffrey Zaslow. I read the back and was intrigued at the idea of a book about a large group of women, who have been friends for their entire lives, and that one had died under suspicious circumstances early in their twenties. I didn't buy it then and forgot the name. A few weeks later I saw a review of the book in the Arizona Republic. It was hanging up at a Starbucks in Scottsdale. One of the wait...