I have a friend, that for the sake of annonimity we will call Carol Berry. Annonymous Carol Berry and I have had many fun times together. We went to Ecuador together. We laughed a lot. We stayed up late a lot. We found each other funny a lot. We talked a lot. I mean a lot.

 She was also in my wedding. (Didn’t I have beautiful bridesmaids?)

Annonymous Carol is a fun friend. But she is also a good friend in that after ten years of us having a million excuses as to why we were too busy to get together, she said, “I’m getting in the car, and I will see you Friday.” This is especially good of her because she had to drive five hours then cross an international border with a very small bladdered four year old without the assistance of her husband who had to work. (Whew! that was a long sentence, now just imagine having a very small bladder and having to “hold it” at an international border.)

 Now Annonymous Carol and I’s friendship has come full circle in that her adorable (albeit small bladdered) girl is born on my birthday. My girls, and her girl of course hit it off like. .

. . .well like three girls at a tea party.

Now my friend Annonymous Carol is slender and svelte. But I am a big girl now, and I have forgiven her for it.

My friend Annonymous Carol also doesn’t age, or get wrinkles, or sag, or do any of the things my almost 40 body does.

Case in point.

Annonymous Carol in 1996

 Annonymous Carol in 2011

See, I told you so! So after a deep cleansing breath and a little meditation, I was able to forgive her this also.

Carol mentioned that she wanted to do some American shopping, as there were some products that she couldn’t find in her locale. At this my ears perked up. You mean Carol with her uber urban haircut, slender svelte figure, and city clothes was lacking something? Now, I may love Carol, but if the opportunity arose for this saggy baggy Wally-World/Value World clothed girl to HAVE something that Carol did not, I was all game.

So we went shopping.

The problem was I didn’t know exactly which product I NEEDED to have, and I wasn’t about to betray my lack of knowledge, so I spied. And once I had transfered into full spy mode and with the help of the “Scan The Grocery Basket Technique,” I was able to deduce the U.A.O.–the Unidentified American Object. Yep, I saw her place a Hershey’s Special Dark Chocolate Bar into her basket. I immediately put my Wally-World/Value World self into full waddle and grabbed six.

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Then we went home.

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But that is not the end of this story.

You see, appartently you CAN buy Hershey’s Special Dark Chocolate Bars in her locale. The real object of her mission was this baby.

 Now I doubted the sense of such a “gimmicky” product. I mean with a little elbow grease, a pastry brush, and some flour, I could easily “grease and flour” a cake pan. Or a muffin pan. Or a bundt pan. Wait a minute. . .I have a bundt pan covered in that nothing-will-stick-to-it stuff, and after dutifully greasing and flouring every nook and cranny, my cakes have still stuck. And then after they stick to that nothing-will-stick-to it coating, I very gingerly and with much trepidation try to remove all the stuck cake without damaging the nothing-will-stick-to-it coating. I mean after all, if I damaged my nothing-will-stick-to-it coating, the cake might actually stick to it. Do you see a nonsensical pattern here? Well I decided that I was going to break out of the downward spiraling circle of nonsesicalness and. . .

and. . .

and. . .

BUY THAT GIMMICKY PRODUCT.

And folks, therein lies the true reason my annonymous friend Carol Berry drove her four year old with a small bladder five hours and crossed an international border all without the help of her husband. It wasn’t me she came to see, Annonymous Carol was also trying to break out of that downward spiraling nonsesical spiral of nonsence and endless gentle scrubbing of that fragile nothing-will-stick-to-it coating.

And you too Friend can break free.

Go buy yourself a bottle of spray Pam with Flour Coating, and you will begin to use those pans again.

Ahhhhhh! I feel so liberated,

-rebecca

P.S. It even worked on this pan! (Thanks Laurie for lending it to me!)

And if you are still hanging around this post, I will let you in on a secret, but only if you promise to not tell a SOUL!

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Did you promise?

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Okay, the six Hersey’s Special Dark Chocolate bars tasted really good.

Oh yeah, and that word “uber” it’s one of those new trendy words that the Urban Dictionary defines as a combination of ultra and super.  Yeah! I’m cool–uber cool.  Wait, is “cool” still cool?