So apparently, after a full day of desperate research, I’ve learned that when it comes to spam bots, Insta don’t play. I, however, am not a spam bot, but apparently someone needs to tell Instagram HQ (no seriously, could someone tell them?), because it seems they’ve mistakenly unleashed upon me a brand of Insta-wrath typically reserved only for spammers. So now, here I sit in limbo, not fully exiled from the Insta-world, but temporarily (a week, I’m told) barred from any heart-eyed-emoji-filled commenting or witty, keepin’-it-real captioning. Why, God?? Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?!?!
And I didn’t even see it coming. No warning, no signs that anything was amiss. It was 9pm. I was stretched out on the bed enjoying a sweet, sweet moment of solitude after a looooooong day of work and child-rearing and cake-baking for 100 kindergarten-graduation attendees. No one asking me why ants don’t have skeletons, no one arguing over who gets to lick the frosting bowl, no one making any demands whatsoever on my time or attention. A rare stitch in time where it was just me, myself and I. And my iPhone, of course. Life was goooood.
I opened up Instagram as I typically do each night before bed to make one final post for the day and respond to comments from my badass followers. Come. to. mama. Then: catastrophe. As I hit send on a completely hilarious (yet totally Insta-appropriate) comment (definitely some of my finest work, which made what happened next that much more tragic), I was punched in the face with those two dreaded words that strike fear and dejection into the hearts of any Instagrammer with a soul: ACTION BLOCKED.
Confusion ensued. I was immediately booted from the Insta-world. After logging back in, I quickly Insta-forgave and forgot, returning to my regularly scheduled commenting. Then as I hit send, Instagram brought down the hammer: because of my “previous action” (????), my commenting privileges were revoked for a full week. WTF?! Everything went into slow-mo. Noooooooooooooooooo!!! Way harsh, Instagram. Confusion devolved into panic. Panic circled the drain and led me down the rabbit hole to full-on desperation. If I wasn’t @savoringtheflavoring, who was I???
And you wanna know the really messed up part? You can’t just call Instagram and go HAM on some completely indifferent programmer. You can’t even email them. I’m fully convinced that the Wizard of Oz himself sits at helm of the whole operation, enjoying watching the fruits of his mind-f**kery unfold. There’s no feeling worse than knowing someone has you by the balls…and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.
But I won’t let the man behind the curtain defeat me. And as I wait out my sentence, no matter how unjust, I will rise up and remember why I started food-blogging in the first place. Not for followers. Not for free samples (ok, that’s a lie, I realllllly wanted the free samples). I did it for the food. So I took these Insta-lemons and turned them into lemonade (cream pie white chocolate cups). And they were awesome. Take that, Insta-wizard!
I’ll be using this week to catch up on my actual blogging, posting one recipe each day until I’ve done my time. I hope you’ll click that little link in my bio each day and follow along!
Prep Time | 5 minutes |
Servings |
cups
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Ingredients
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