Angst!
This whole not having my own computer bites. Oh well... I'll live, at least I have something to look forward to - a game today and seeing my sweetie Sarge.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
Mutha Fuckin' Computer!
As you may have guessed, my computer and I are at odds once again. As in my computer is REFUSING to boot back up. DAMNIT! So... no cake photos today, maybe tomorrow, but maybe not.
Long day today, tomorrow probably long also. *sigh*
Blah, off to bed have to get up early tomorrow.
As you may have guessed, my computer and I are at odds once again. As in my computer is REFUSING to boot back up. DAMNIT! So... no cake photos today, maybe tomorrow, but maybe not.
Long day today, tomorrow probably long also. *sigh*
Blah, off to bed have to get up early tomorrow.
Thursday, February 21, 2008
It's Official
Almost forgot, I'm officially the WINNER if the Chocolate Cake Contest. I got many congratulations today and even had my photo taken. Everyone loved my cake, so the effort and frustration was worth it. I'll get my prize as soon as they process my paper work and then find out about the next level in the contest. Let's hope there is more than just ME in this contest.
A special thank you to my sweetie Sarge who gave me his fabulous cake recipe which I made a few changes to for the contest.
Almost forgot, I'm officially the WINNER if the Chocolate Cake Contest. I got many congratulations today and even had my photo taken. Everyone loved my cake, so the effort and frustration was worth it. I'll get my prize as soon as they process my paper work and then find out about the next level in the contest. Let's hope there is more than just ME in this contest.
A special thank you to my sweetie Sarge who gave me his fabulous cake recipe which I made a few changes to for the contest.
Things That Make Me LOL!
Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!
Tuesday right after I got home from work there was a knock at my door. Me thinking it was the UPS with a long awaited package delivery (I know what you are thinking and no, no, not new sexy toys), but lo when I opened the door it was two primly dressed ladies with name tags on (Sister Grace and Sister somebody). Mormons. At my door. Mormons in the 'hood. Ghetto Mormons. Now I've seen everything. I told them right away that I was Jewish - I figured that would get a polite "Oh how nice." from them and they would go the fuck away - it's worked that way in the past. NO, not to be. They said how interesting that was then said how they hadn't run into many Jewish people in my city, in fact I was the FIRST they had run into. Then they went into some schpeel about how I might be interested in some NEW and EXCITING just translated writings from a decendant of Elijah (or somebody, I have to admit, I was zoning them out about then and tempted to tell them to wrap it up, I was in a hurry to get out of my uniform so I could masturbate) about the people of Jeruselem but not written in Jeruselem, yadda, yadda, yadda... I politely said no, not really. Then Sister Somebody told me how important her book was to her and asked if I would like one (you know, the book of Mormon, not the latest Penthouse Forum), again they got a no from me. The best part was when they asked me if I knew anyone who would be interested in what they were peddling. I have to admit I was taken aback by that question. I wonder when they started with this new campaign of "We understand you aren't interested our cult, but would you be interested in refering a friend, relative or aquantance to our cult education?" Weird.
Also, my offspring are upstairs doing the whole Viking Kittens thing (yes, yes, I know it's a Led Zepplin song they are singing, but they only know it from the Viking Kittens) which is amusing and impressing me as they have quite a bit of the song down.
Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!
Tuesday right after I got home from work there was a knock at my door. Me thinking it was the UPS with a long awaited package delivery (I know what you are thinking and no, no, not new sexy toys), but lo when I opened the door it was two primly dressed ladies with name tags on (Sister Grace and Sister somebody). Mormons. At my door. Mormons in the 'hood. Ghetto Mormons. Now I've seen everything. I told them right away that I was Jewish - I figured that would get a polite "Oh how nice." from them and they would go the fuck away - it's worked that way in the past. NO, not to be. They said how interesting that was then said how they hadn't run into many Jewish people in my city, in fact I was the FIRST they had run into. Then they went into some schpeel about how I might be interested in some NEW and EXCITING just translated writings from a decendant of Elijah (or somebody, I have to admit, I was zoning them out about then and tempted to tell them to wrap it up, I was in a hurry to get out of my uniform so I could masturbate) about the people of Jeruselem but not written in Jeruselem, yadda, yadda, yadda... I politely said no, not really. Then Sister Somebody told me how important her book was to her and asked if I would like one (you know, the book of Mormon, not the latest Penthouse Forum), again they got a no from me. The best part was when they asked me if I knew anyone who would be interested in what they were peddling. I have to admit I was taken aback by that question. I wonder when they started with this new campaign of "We understand you aren't interested our cult, but would you be interested in refering a friend, relative or aquantance to our cult education?" Weird.
Also, my offspring are upstairs doing the whole Viking Kittens thing (yes, yes, I know it's a Led Zepplin song they are singing, but they only know it from the Viking Kittens) which is amusing and impressing me as they have quite a bit of the song down.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Not Quite As Planned
So today was to be the chocolate cake contest thing, right? I bake my cakes - 4 layers to make two cakes, and I make a double batch of chocolate buttercream icing. I pack all cakes and icing into an old backpack I boosted from Supergirl and head to the store.
At the store I discover a couple of things - one my pans are not 8 inch pans and two my oven must not be heating evenly so the cakes aren't even, neither problem is really an issue. I get the knife I use to cut cakes and to even them out when necessary. And THIS is where things start going not quite as planned.
I start cutting across my cake to even it out, one hand on top to hold it still and the other on the knife. I'm doing fine, then suddenly the knife slips and I cut my finger. Not bad really, I just stare at it for about 30 seconds in disbelief and wonder as I wait to see if it's actually going to bleed. It does, I put on a band aid, wash my hands and head back to finish the cake. Icing goes fine, it looks FABULOUS and tasty. On to next cake.
Spring Form Disaster
Apparently my spring form pans hate me. I've made all of the test cakes in these pans and never ever had a problem getting my cakes out. But then I wasn't actually AT the contest so of course they were perfect then. Not today. The sides snapped right off but the cake stayed adhered to the bottom and I had to get a spatula to separate it from the bottom. I get it though and it's not damaged much. I put frosting on the cake and pry off the second cake from it's bottom. I have much less luck with this one and it breaks in three jagged pieces - jagged but moist and tasty. UGH! I put them on the other cake like puzzle pieces and try to piece it together with icing. I learn that most excitingly now do not have enough icing to go over the whole cake after fixing it. FUCK. Not a huge issue just an annoyance. Luckily I work in a grocery store so I grab my money and head out the things necessary to make more icing. It turns out absolutely perfect and then I have no trouble covering the kind of mangled cake. I even managed to make it look edible. (it's the cake on the left)
Cakes complete! Woohoo! I go to find the store director. Well he's in his office talking to someone. FINE. I occupy myself at the photo lab to see if I can get a couple of photos printed from Supergirl's birthday party. Not so much. After 20 minutes of trying to get the machine to work, it WON'T and I CAN'T so I go back to the bakery to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally I see the director emerge from his office and I start walking towards him. Before I can reach him to say "Yo, when are you going to judge my CAKE?!?!?!" he must have seen his shadow or something because he walked out the side door to go take his lunch! ARRGHH!
So I left. I left instructions with the other bakery person re the cakes. I left a message for the director. And I just fucking left the store to head home because the Tiny Terrorist would think I left THEM if I wasn't home when they got home. And now I'm home where I left all my chores and stuff undone to run do this contest. And I have very little patience left. *sheesh*
So today was to be the chocolate cake contest thing, right? I bake my cakes - 4 layers to make two cakes, and I make a double batch of chocolate buttercream icing. I pack all cakes and icing into an old backpack I boosted from Supergirl and head to the store.
At the store I discover a couple of things - one my pans are not 8 inch pans and two my oven must not be heating evenly so the cakes aren't even, neither problem is really an issue. I get the knife I use to cut cakes and to even them out when necessary. And THIS is where things start going not quite as planned.
I start cutting across my cake to even it out, one hand on top to hold it still and the other on the knife. I'm doing fine, then suddenly the knife slips and I cut my finger. Not bad really, I just stare at it for about 30 seconds in disbelief and wonder as I wait to see if it's actually going to bleed. It does, I put on a band aid, wash my hands and head back to finish the cake. Icing goes fine, it looks FABULOUS and tasty. On to next cake.
Spring Form Disaster
Apparently my spring form pans hate me. I've made all of the test cakes in these pans and never ever had a problem getting my cakes out. But then I wasn't actually AT the contest so of course they were perfect then. Not today. The sides snapped right off but the cake stayed adhered to the bottom and I had to get a spatula to separate it from the bottom. I get it though and it's not damaged much. I put frosting on the cake and pry off the second cake from it's bottom. I have much less luck with this one and it breaks in three jagged pieces - jagged but moist and tasty. UGH! I put them on the other cake like puzzle pieces and try to piece it together with icing. I learn that most excitingly now do not have enough icing to go over the whole cake after fixing it. FUCK. Not a huge issue just an annoyance. Luckily I work in a grocery store so I grab my money and head out the things necessary to make more icing. It turns out absolutely perfect and then I have no trouble covering the kind of mangled cake. I even managed to make it look edible. (it's the cake on the left)
Cakes complete! Woohoo! I go to find the store director. Well he's in his office talking to someone. FINE. I occupy myself at the photo lab to see if I can get a couple of photos printed from Supergirl's birthday party. Not so much. After 20 minutes of trying to get the machine to work, it WON'T and I CAN'T so I go back to the bakery to wait. And wait. And wait. Finally I see the director emerge from his office and I start walking towards him. Before I can reach him to say "Yo, when are you going to judge my CAKE?!?!?!" he must have seen his shadow or something because he walked out the side door to go take his lunch! ARRGHH!
So I left. I left instructions with the other bakery person re the cakes. I left a message for the director. And I just fucking left the store to head home because the Tiny Terrorist would think I left THEM if I wasn't home when they got home. And now I'm home where I left all my chores and stuff undone to run do this contest. And I have very little patience left. *sheesh*
Why Parenthood Is So Much Fun
I would never have these conversations if I didn't have kids.
Supergirl: Wow! Did you see that? She went in one side and popped out the other side. Cats are flexible.
Me: mmmmhmmm
Supergirl: But dogs aren't.
Me: Maybe they are too.
Supergirl: Cats are really flexible.
Me: Maybe they do yoga when we aren't home.
Supergirl: Yeah. But not Dusty. Not anything with jumping for her.
Me: Cat yoga.
Later... Meltdown time.
Cabbage Patch: I don't want to wear this sock! It's stupid!
Me: I know.
Cabbage Patch: I don't want to wear this sock! It doesn't fit! Whaaaaaa!
Me: Funny, it looks like it fits, it's on your foot.
Cabbage Patch: This sock is stupid! I don't want to wear it!
Me: Good thing today is stupid sock day.
Cabbage Patch: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! I hate this sock!
Why did that happen? Because she wanted to wear a white sock and a purple sock and I said no, no, no, no. She rebuked the white sock I gave her to wear.
I find this more amusing than upsetting. I have a sock story in my past.
Lets go back to a time when I was a wee child of maybe 4. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth... er... kidding, not that old... back when black and white televisions were common, kids rode Big Wheels and cartoons only came on briefly in the afternoons and on Saturday mornings. It was a lovely spring/summer day, I was decked out in a sun dress and socks with sandals (come on, it was the mid 70's - socks and sandals WAS fashionable). Not just ANY socks mind you but thin nylon ankle socks with lace trim. The ONLY kind of socks I would wear (without an absolute meltdown and half a day of pouting and sulking). My mother and I were walking down the street, we approached a puddle left by the recent rains. My mother, being a mother and all said "Judy, don't step in that puddle." And I, being 4 and all, stepped right in the puddle with my left foot. I soaked my tiny white sock. I did the only reasonable thing, I told my mother that my SOCK was WET and I refused to take another step. My mother knelt down and removed my sandals and my now wet and dirty sock and it's mate and then attempted to put my sandals back on my feet sans socks. That was just crazy talk! I would have NONE of that. Sandals minus socks was an unreasonable option. I told her in no uncertain terms that fact. I believe it was something like "No! No! No! No! No!" Mother, being observant as she was known to be, saw the 5 and 10 store right across the street from us and suggested we walk over there and procure me another pair of pristine white socks with lace on the edges. This was a great idea, except... I could NOT walk. Not without my sandals and clearly I could not wear the sandals without pristine white socks with lace on the edge. Do you know what my mother did next? No, she did not bend me over her knee and spank me (though that would have been my guess). She picked me up and carried me across the street to the store. She purchased me another pair of pristine white socks with lace on the edges and put my sandals back on me where in a miracle happened and my ability to walk was once again restored. Can I get an A-Men?
See? The insanity is hereditary. Except she seems to favor mismatched socks. I blame her gay father for that. (Eyes rolling up in head.)
Moving on...
CAKE NEWS!
Today shortly after 1 pm I'll go win the cake contest at work. I know, I have an amazing amount of confidence. It's easy, I'm the only entrant. So, I win by default. They still want me to go through the motions and bring the cake to the store and all that - they just want my cake. It's okay, I'm used to that. I know you just want my cake also. Because I aim to please, heres what you are looking for... CAKE!
This was prettier in my head.
Blah.
I spent too much time doing this cake. But it's pretty!
I did diagonal stripes just to change it up a bit. Worked, I got an order for a cake like it just an hour after I put it out.
There, you've had your cake. Have a sweet day.
I would never have these conversations if I didn't have kids.
Supergirl: Wow! Did you see that? She went in one side and popped out the other side. Cats are flexible.
Me: mmmmhmmm
Supergirl: But dogs aren't.
Me: Maybe they are too.
Supergirl: Cats are really flexible.
Me: Maybe they do yoga when we aren't home.
Supergirl: Yeah. But not Dusty. Not anything with jumping for her.
Me: Cat yoga.
Later... Meltdown time.
Cabbage Patch: I don't want to wear this sock! It's stupid!
Me: I know.
Cabbage Patch: I don't want to wear this sock! It doesn't fit! Whaaaaaa!
Me: Funny, it looks like it fits, it's on your foot.
Cabbage Patch: This sock is stupid! I don't want to wear it!
Me: Good thing today is stupid sock day.
Cabbage Patch: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! I hate this sock!
Why did that happen? Because she wanted to wear a white sock and a purple sock and I said no, no, no, no. She rebuked the white sock I gave her to wear.
I find this more amusing than upsetting. I have a sock story in my past.
Lets go back to a time when I was a wee child of maybe 4. Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth... er... kidding, not that old... back when black and white televisions were common, kids rode Big Wheels and cartoons only came on briefly in the afternoons and on Saturday mornings. It was a lovely spring/summer day, I was decked out in a sun dress and socks with sandals (come on, it was the mid 70's - socks and sandals WAS fashionable). Not just ANY socks mind you but thin nylon ankle socks with lace trim. The ONLY kind of socks I would wear (without an absolute meltdown and half a day of pouting and sulking). My mother and I were walking down the street, we approached a puddle left by the recent rains. My mother, being a mother and all said "Judy, don't step in that puddle." And I, being 4 and all, stepped right in the puddle with my left foot. I soaked my tiny white sock. I did the only reasonable thing, I told my mother that my SOCK was WET and I refused to take another step. My mother knelt down and removed my sandals and my now wet and dirty sock and it's mate and then attempted to put my sandals back on my feet sans socks. That was just crazy talk! I would have NONE of that. Sandals minus socks was an unreasonable option. I told her in no uncertain terms that fact. I believe it was something like "No! No! No! No! No!" Mother, being observant as she was known to be, saw the 5 and 10 store right across the street from us and suggested we walk over there and procure me another pair of pristine white socks with lace on the edges. This was a great idea, except... I could NOT walk. Not without my sandals and clearly I could not wear the sandals without pristine white socks with lace on the edge. Do you know what my mother did next? No, she did not bend me over her knee and spank me (though that would have been my guess). She picked me up and carried me across the street to the store. She purchased me another pair of pristine white socks with lace on the edges and put my sandals back on me where in a miracle happened and my ability to walk was once again restored. Can I get an A-Men?
See? The insanity is hereditary. Except she seems to favor mismatched socks. I blame her gay father for that. (Eyes rolling up in head.)
Moving on...
CAKE NEWS!
Today shortly after 1 pm I'll go win the cake contest at work. I know, I have an amazing amount of confidence. It's easy, I'm the only entrant. So, I win by default. They still want me to go through the motions and bring the cake to the store and all that - they just want my cake. It's okay, I'm used to that. I know you just want my cake also. Because I aim to please, heres what you are looking for... CAKE!
This was prettier in my head.
Blah.
I spent too much time doing this cake. But it's pretty!
I did diagonal stripes just to change it up a bit. Worked, I got an order for a cake like it just an hour after I put it out.
There, you've had your cake. Have a sweet day.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Cringe Worthy Conversation
While forcing the Tiny Terrorists to hang up the mountain of their laundry that I've spent all day washing.
(Super Girl putting a cute pink shirt adorned with cherries on a hanger.)
Super Girl: What a cute shirt, cherries. Anybody want my cherry? *laughing*
Me: *CRINGE*
Cabbage Patch: *laughing* Cherries! Cherries! Who wants to eat my cherries?
Me: *CRINGE! CRINGE!* Okay enough, just hang up your clothes.
And then my head just exploded from the sheer unsettling jolt of the two sentences that had just been expelled from my progenies lips. The only thing that gave me the strength to gather all the pieces of my brain that had been scattered about the room and upon the ceiling fan was the knowledge that they had no fucking clue of the risque' nature of what they had just uttered.
I think I lost 10 years off my life right then. Does anyone know of a nice Jewish Convent I can send my daughters to?
While forcing the Tiny Terrorists to hang up the mountain of their laundry that I've spent all day washing.
(Super Girl putting a cute pink shirt adorned with cherries on a hanger.)
Super Girl: What a cute shirt, cherries. Anybody want my cherry? *laughing*
Me: *CRINGE*
Cabbage Patch: *laughing* Cherries! Cherries! Who wants to eat my cherries?
Me: *CRINGE! CRINGE!* Okay enough, just hang up your clothes.
And then my head just exploded from the sheer unsettling jolt of the two sentences that had just been expelled from my progenies lips. The only thing that gave me the strength to gather all the pieces of my brain that had been scattered about the room and upon the ceiling fan was the knowledge that they had no fucking clue of the risque' nature of what they had just uttered.
I think I lost 10 years off my life right then. Does anyone know of a nice Jewish Convent I can send my daughters to?
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