No bueno. They were a pain to get out of my mold. A pink murder scene made up of muffin tops and bottoms, some whole though, was what remained. Maybe a bakery called Top of the Muffin a la Elaine? I'll admit it, I ate one and I wasn't thoroughly pleased. They were brittle as well. No spongy goodness that would make a glass of 2% milk go wild. Boo-urns!
The next day, at work, since I rarely have any semblance of soda in my home, I drank an entire can of Diet Dr. Pepper. It was a calming factor in the Great Pink Muffin/Cupcake Disaster of 2010. Notice my finicky work printer. It decides what it wants to print and what it doesn't.
Carbs, it makes things better no? I tested a great deal on how pasta affected my blood glucose. My poor fingers really endured a lot during that time and I am happy to say that the 1/4 Italian in me is happy that I can celebrate that part of my ethnicity. I have to limit my flour tortilla intake though. :(
My little Bitty-Girl seeing me off to work. This was her this morning, waving as I walked away. It breaks my heart and I can only imagine how terrible that pain would be if I have children.