Gluten Free Applie Spice Cupcakes with Maple Cream Cheese Icing

If you know me at all you will know that I am not your typical 21st century "equality for women" kind of gal. I'm weird I suppose. More than anything I wish I lived in the fifties where I can be married, raise my kids and meet my husband at the door with drink and a peck on the cheek. But alas, I live in the time where females are running for President and we're equal with men. So terrible. ;)

I've been so stressed out lately with school, work, relationships and just being sick that I really needed something to do. And the truth is you can't really realize you're in pain when you're laughing and baking with your grandparents. Since my appetite has all but disappeared I have only had two cravings: all sorts of cupcakes and the gluten free lobster pasta that I got at Maggiano's. I'm too lazy to drive all the way to Maggiano's so cupcakes won and I found a handy recipe online. Here's my adaptation of it!

Applie Spice Cupcake and Maple Cream Cheese Icing


The Cupcakes:

• Hodgson Mill Yellow Cake Mix (it's gluten free!) 
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
• 2/3 cup water
• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 2 tsp vanilla 
• 3 eggs
• 1 peeled apple, chopped up to small little pieces (they're baked into the cupcake!)

- Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
- Mix cake mix, cinnamon, and nutmeg together. Add in water, eggs, vanilla, and eggs. Beat on low until mixed together.
- Mix in apples pieces
- Put into the cupcake holders and plop them into the over for 19 minutes (or under the toothpick comes out clean).


They taste good without the frosting but about one hundred times better with it. They almost have a "muffin-esque" texture.

The Frosting: 

• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 6 oz cream cheese, softened 
• 4 1/2 tbsp maple syrup
• 2 cups powdered sugar

- Mix butter, cream cheese and maple syrup together on low until fluffy
- Gradually add in powdered sugar while on low
- Eat a ton and refrigerate


Quantity: About 14 cupcakes and an excess of delicious frosting for snacking.

As grandpa say it's a "jolly recipe". It's the best thing I have ever made and I am probably too proud of myself. I promise you'll like them though. And they're gluten free which therefore makes them healthy they were also made full of love.


Happy baking!!

Ciao. xoxo.

An Emergency Room Is A Hopeless Place

I would like to use this time to give my official review of the Dr.Phillips Hospital Emergency Room. While this means nothing to all of my readers who do not live in Orlando please do continue reading. It is the closest hospital to Universal meaning if you venture to Harry Potter world in the future and get zonked by an atrocious spell and don't have Hermione to give you a remedy you will be going to Dr.Phillips Hospital and you will wish you would have read this.

Point blankly, it's one of the worst emergency rooms I have ever been to. Dr.Phillips is a very wealthy area full of Lexus', Mercedes, BMW's and women who can spot a fake handbag from a mile away. Why is this even remotely pertinent? Well it sets up the irony that the emergency room also has a metal detector at the door. A metal detector run by an old security guard who is not even armed with a weapon and who I guarantee would not only not know what to do, but also wouldn't be able to do anything if some crazy looney tried to smuggle a gun in, nonetheless brandishing one.

I try to avoid the hospital at all costs. They're scary and make me all sad and lonely. . but things got to the point where I just had to go. I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest amongst other things and quite frankly that's not the most comfortable feeling. So seeing as it wasn't just any Sunday night but Super Bowl Sunday and it was still in the first quarter I assumed there wouldn't be a wait. I mean we weren't far enough into the game that the drunken men who tried to do that "cool thing on youtube" were going to be there with broken bloody noses. And I have to admit I was partially correct. The ER was packed and while there was a lack of drunken shenanigan inducing men in football attire there was an abundance of inappropriately dressed people, annoying children running around and a man who kept disgustingly clearing his throat every five minutes. 

Now mind you the last time I was sick in a hospital was when I was under 18 and allowed to go to Arnold Palmer Children's Hospital downtown. It's really a magical place where every employee tries their hardest to make you comfortable, old Disney movies are playing in the waiting room and the rooms are painted in bright friendly colors with cool decorations. The biggest thing though? My mom was able to go everywhere with me -- triage, stay overnight in the room with me, and all of my tests -- but this time it was different. I was shuffled into triage by a Cruella DeVille looking woman who meanly said my mother was not allowed back. I then was met by a nurse who did not even attempt to hide that she didn't know what SMA was and thrown back into the waiting room and the stiff backed uncomfortable seats.

After watching Madonna try to pull of sexy dance moves, seeing the Pats LET the Giants win, and getting through half of The Voice I was done. I would rather be in pain in my comfy bed than sit in those chairs for another minute and then the typical butchering of our name occurred and we were whisked into the back room where a bitchy female nurse entered and proceeded to kick my father out. Because I am an adult and for the protection of my privacy I was only allowed one person back there. I am not a rude girl nor am I typically feisty but that flipped a switch unleashed the inner feisty chicita in me. She was followed by a rude financial woman and then a HORRENDOUS physician's assistant. I understand SMA is rare but I also know I have it. . but according to Ms.Kate I was a silly little self diagnosing child who had mono and a UTI. . I had ZERO symptoms of a UTI .  . The male nurse who also came to let us sign the sheet to leave so kindly stated that if anything were to happen to me it'd "be on you". So if I died it's my fault. Dad almost smacked him.

Three hours later the only thing we succeeded in doing was minimizing pain with morphine and getting a prescription for percocete. It was a fabulous time.

The moral of this story is if you are ever in need of an emergency room or hospital visit I would highly suggest Florida Hospital downtown. And for goodness sake if the one needing to be seen is under 18 take them to Arnold Palmer!

Ciao. xoxo.

PS. I'm obviously still alive after this ordeal. Just chug-a-luging along. High spirits and prayers that the Mayo Clinic gets back to us soon. (send prayers!)

Superior Mesenteric Artery Syndrome

I've come to a few conclusions while I sat down to do this post. . My new years resolution of caring less about what people think is not as easy as I presumed it would be. I mean knew it'd be hard, but it's actually a lot harder than I assumed. I have this fear that writing a post directly concerning health and a diagnosis with what's going on will be interpreted as my asking for attention and hugs or that I'm completely overreacting and acting like a child – neither of which are true. The fact of the matter is that I blog for myself. Writing lets me escape and be free for at least a few moments and whether it’s by some creepy old man sitting in front of his old school computer on a rickety desk in Timbuktu or my friends I'm heard and honestly that's all that matters.

About a week ago I was diagnosed with Superior Mesenteric Artery (SMA) Syndrome. If you know me at all you shouldn’t be surprised that this is something rare. I actually laughed when the doctor said that, I mean of course it is. I think I would have been offended if this was a normal thing like acid reflux or something. Normal disorders are for the uncomplicated and the fact that it takes me at least ten minutes to decide between a Caesar salad with or without chicken lets you know I am far from normal, or decisive, or uncomplicated.

I don’t really know how to explain the syndrome because I don’t exactly understand it. But I'm going to try and explain it to the best of my abilities. The starting issue is that my duodenum is narrowing. This means that I'm not gaining as much weight as I should be in-correlation to what I'm eating (every girls dream, right?). This also means that the artery that goes behind my stomach and out onto my intestines is compressed and dealing with more stress than it should be which is changing its angle. When the angle between the superior mesenteric vessels and the aorta is lower than 18° you have SMA Syndrome. I had an MRA, which is an MRI of your arteries done yesterday and those results determine what the next steps are. A lovely side effect is that I also have the energy levels of a 90 year old now. As soon as I step out of bad I'm ready for a nap. And I've been a running a fever for about a week but I like to think that's because I'm just so hot. -- cue chuckle, smirk and eye roll --


The good, the bad, the mediocre. The good thing about this is that I can eat popcorn with chocolate chips and a chocolate banana milkshake for dinner without being judged or reprimanded or even thinking about my "spring break perfect Victoria Secret model body". Everyone is pushing for me to gain weight (not happening) because if I do get sick I will drop them like a snake shedding skin. Translation? I can be a junk food fanatic piggy and be okay with it. The bad. There's a possibility of a bypass surgery if the angle of my artery isn't good. A sentence with surgery + bypass + myself doesn't really tickle my fancy, it quite honestly scares the pa-tooey out of me. My reaction to those sentences lately are either tears, a joke, quick changing of the subject or being quiet and contemplative, none of which are at all me. The mediocre is that mom found a great surgeon at Wake Forest who we're sending my charts to on Monday. This should probably be in the "good" section but once again, surgery isn't something that I view as "good". Having someone who knows what they're doing on your side is always a plus especially since my doctor left me high and dry as he's left the country on a three week vacation with no one covering him (feel free to mutter some mean thing in his direction).

I wrote this post for a few reasons. Being heard and having something in writing are the forerunners. This will make it harder for me to push away everyone I love most which is something I seem to always do when I think they could end up hurting. It both makes zero and absolute sense at the same time. The other reason was to try and persuade y'all to participate in the national awareness day for SMA Syndrome which is tomorrow (the 28th). I personally like to refer to it as "wear something purple day". No one's going to ask why you're wearing people and goodness know I'll never even know if you really did but I will say while you're sitting there try to pick something to match your fabulous leopard wedges or cute little flats with a bow go for the purple blouse. . or dress. . or hair bow. . or button down and tie (for my male readers, if you exist). A little hope and well wishing, or in this case a little purple, can really go a long way.

Now that I'm exhausted I'll bid you all adieu. I have a cute little puppy waiting to snuggle.

Think purple!

Ciao darlings! xoxox