Narcissism and Cookie Butter

I haven’t updated my blog in ages, but I’m determined to make writing a regular activity in 2014. However, teaching is a creativity drain, and I have little to offer the world at the end of the work day. Rather than doing anything that will offer long term satisfaction, I typically resign myself to eating cold, rubbery queso with my fingers (I’m usually to exhausted to drive to the Piggly Wiggly to stock up on more potato chips and there are never enough chips in one bag to scoop up an entire container of any variety of dip) and watch 12 episodes of Parks and Recreation. This scenario typically ends with me waking up at 3:30 in the morning with my pants half off, using my blazer as a shield for my eyes because all of the lights are still on.

From now on, once a week, until I get my typing fingers back, I’m going to write one leaf of…screen…about any topic. I cannot pick a theme for my blog just like I cannot pick a theme for my life, so the blog may feel disjointed, but I make no apologies to that. Anyway, my readership is relatively low, and I’m pretty sure most of my 297 site views are me. I’m cool with that though. Narcissism is becoming more socially acceptable (see the variety of recent articles defending the selfie as an inherently feminist act) and I plan to participate fully as I have always considered myself to be a vapid narcissist.

Today’s blog will be about Cookie Butter.

More specifically, Speculoos Cookie Butter.

This product can be bought at Trader Joe’s. There isn’t a Trader Joe’s in Alabama (where I currently reside) or in Oklahoma, so I have never been fortunate enough to shop at one. When people bring up how much they love Trader Joe’s (this happens pretty often) I nod my head in agreement and cite an article I read three years ago that talks about how well they treat their employees. So here I am now, admitting that I’ve never been to one. I saw one when I was on vacation in Santa Fe, but I didn’t go because I felt the tug of brand loyalty to the Whole Foods down the street. This was possibly the worst decision I made on that vacation, though my mother would argue my judgement was considerably poor when, on the same trip, I purchased two large, overpriced, stuffed raccoon puppets that I have only used once to humiliate her via Facebook, and have only since served the purpose of perpetually terrifying my roommate’s cat. As for Trader Joe’s, I’ve never had another opportunity to experience its splendor.

I recently came into contact with some of their fabulous Cookie Butter, and, I must say, there is no turning back. I was spending the night at a friend’s apartment, and I took a little peek inside her pantry, and there, basking in the artificial fluorescent kitchen lighting, was a jar of what I initially assumed to be peanut butter. Boy, was my face red. Sweet nectar of the gods, it was a butter made from the most deserving of foods. Cookies. It tasted of gingersnaps dipped in hot cocoa and smothered in whipped cream. Transplendent. Tran-friggin-splendent.

Shame on you, Alabama, for not having a place where consumers can purchase this delicacy…nay, life necessity. I demand that Speculoos Cookie Butter be carried in every store that also stocks peanut butter, as an alternative for those individuals who want to feed their souls. You have 3 months to remedy this, Alabama, or I promise I will vacate the state.

Jenny, I have to be honest, I ate two spoonfuls of your “Speculoos Cookie and Cocoa Swirl” this morning. I hope we can still be friends. I promise I did not double dip the spoon. Ok, I double dipped the spoon. But just once. Okay, maybe it was three spoonfuls.

And I’m sorry for bringing that lizard into your apartment and letting it loose. That wasn’t cool.

I’ll order two cookie butters on Amazon to make up for my past butter-releated indiscretions. And some odor-killing spray for when that lizard, inevitably, is found dead behind your sofa.

Advertisements

2 responses to “Narcissism and Cookie Butter

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s