If there is something screwy I love, it is googling sweet treat pictures. Call me flaky, huh. Also, every evening I have to have my candy snatch. Otherwise I sulk. At the moment I’m late night blasting with jelly beans and marshmallows. Would my lactose-intolerance allow, I’d be nibbling on peanut butter cups. Only in enzyme-functioning dreams. Yeah.

Candy makes me happy. English licorice is a lifetime love. Maybe I ought to get meself a candy tee?

Sweet treat colored nails are of actuality. Playing with lace is of my liking, alike. I heart the attention my cropped, sexy hand wear gets… unfailingly. Somehow, I enjoy clothes induced drama. It is like an everyday stage up. I am far from superficial – dare to put it out here – but play away with frocks just for the fun of it. It makes my daily do-dos a dash more dulcet.

What I adore about the folks here in Quebec City is their openness. I often get compliments on my attire. The other day, as I ordered my Stardust coffee, the moka gal told me “how chic she found my hat”. These little sprinkles make life sweeter.

What do you think about the oh-so-popular American trend of coupling up sweet and salty? Like the above pretzel cupcakes. I’m debating. If ever anyone needed a lactose-free cupcake guinea piglet, I’m ready and willing!

What about Chanel cupcakes? Going twice and even three times.

Or what would you say about pics where the caramel just flo-oh-ows out? Or where the chewiness is teethhable?

I have now accumulated ten paintings, since my move to Canada in December. My goal is to brush away up to fifteen pieces, make a photo book and go hunting for a gallery where to organize my exhibit. A candy buffet at the opening would only be appropriate, non?