free to be bree.



I'm Bree. I'm a 26 year old Jersey girl, and I'm here to dazzle you with my cupcakes! Well, maybe not "dazzle" exactly, but I do tend to brag about my cupcake endeavors quite a bit. I'll also throw in some random "things going on in my life" posts from time to time. Enjoy!
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If your little brother ever invites you to dinner & out to the city for drinks with his friends to celebrate the return of one friend from Basic Training, and guarantees that you & they will be returning home at a reasonable hour, he’s lying. Last night I accompanied the boys to a local restaurant followed by Flannery’s, The Tippler, and Gaslight in Chelsea. We decided that the ABSOLUTE latest we’d leave was 1AM— and even that would be pushing it— because I had to be up early this morning to take care of my nephew. Obviously, that didn’t happen.  We were on our way out the door of the last bar when my brother met some Russian chick that he was interested in. Basic Training guy & I walked to the Starbucks on the next corner to give my brother a chance to close the deal without his big sister looming 5 feet away, and by the time we got back, he, his other friend, and Russia had disappeared.  After numerous phone calls, we went back inside the bar to see if they were there. Sure enough, all three were sidled up to the bar, dancing, with fresh drinks. I. was. pissed. I practically dragged the boys out by their ears, hailed a cab, and sped off to Penn Station only to find that we’d missed the last train back to New Jersey by about a minute and a half. At that point, I started to shut down.  The boys haggled with some sketchy-looking cabbie to drive us back to Secaucus Junction, where our car was parked (I do not drive into NYC under any circumstance) and they finally agreed on a fare, including tolls & tip, of $50. The sketchy-looking cabbie escorted us to an even sketchier-looking Lincoln Town Car. The whole ride back to Secaucus, the car kept making this dinging noise. If we didn’t die from the car just suddenly blowing up, I was pretty sure this guy was going to take us to some wooded area in the Meadowlands to kill us himself. Fortunately, we made it back to the car safely. However, by that point I had completely shut down. I wouldn’t speak to any of them except Basic Training Guy since he wasn’t at fault for any of this. They realized this and were trying to rectify the situation monetarily. I declined, but should have just taken it as they were offering up to $100 compensation for the night.  The night wasn’t all bad though. The boys taught me to play darts while we were at Flannery’s. Can you believe I’d never played darts before!? And, might I add, I kicked total ass at it (see above)! If I wasn’t DDing, I would’ve won A LOT of drinks! Plus we met some interesting French people at Gaslight who we taught to say “How `bout a cigahh” with a Groucho Marx voice & gesture. 

If your little brother ever invites you to dinner & out to the city for drinks with his friends to celebrate the return of one friend from Basic Training, and guarantees that you & they will be returning home at a reasonable hour, he’s lying.

Last night I accompanied the boys to a local restaurant followed by Flannery’s, The Tippler, and Gaslight in Chelsea. We decided that the ABSOLUTE latest we’d leave was 1AM— and even that would be pushing it— because I had to be up early this morning to take care of my nephew. Obviously, that didn’t happen. 

We were on our way out the door of the last bar when my brother met some Russian chick that he was interested in. Basic Training guy & I walked to the Starbucks on the next corner to give my brother a chance to close the deal without his big sister looming 5 feet away, and by the time we got back, he, his other friend, and Russia had disappeared. 

After numerous phone calls, we went back inside the bar to see if they were there. Sure enough, all three were sidled up to the bar, dancing, with fresh drinks.

I. was. pissed.

I practically dragged the boys out by their ears, hailed a cab, and sped off to Penn Station only to find that we’d missed the last train back to New Jersey by about a minute and a half. At that point, I started to shut down. 

The boys haggled with some sketchy-looking cabbie to drive us back to Secaucus Junction, where our car was parked (I do not drive into NYC under any circumstance) and they finally agreed on a fare, including tolls & tip, of $50. The sketchy-looking cabbie escorted us to an even sketchier-looking Lincoln Town Car. The whole ride back to Secaucus, the car kept making this dinging noise. If we didn’t die from the car just suddenly blowing up, I was pretty sure this guy was going to take us to some wooded area in the Meadowlands to kill us himself. Fortunately, we made it back to the car safely. However, by that point I had completely shut down. I wouldn’t speak to any of them except Basic Training Guy since he wasn’t at fault for any of this. They realized this and were trying to rectify the situation monetarily. I declined, but should have just taken it as they were offering up to $100 compensation for the night. 

The night wasn’t all bad though. The boys taught me to play darts while we were at Flannery’s. Can you believe I’d never played darts before!? And, might I add, I kicked total ass at it (see above)! If I wasn’t DDing, I would’ve won A LOT of drinks! Plus we met some interesting French people at Gaslight who we taught to say “How `bout a cigahh” with a Groucho Marx voice & gesture. 

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