Marks the Spot

I'm a liar

2012-02-07T21:19:00.003-06:00

So, the last time I blogged, I swore that I wouldn't talk about the bakery anymore. Well, at least as much, anyway.
Yeah, I'm a liar. A big, fat, pants-on-fire-liar. But not because the bakery is SOOOOOOO awesome.
No, because I'm spending about sixty hours a week there and outside of showering, eating dinner and watching about one show per night, it's the only interesting thing in my life at the moment. (Unless you want to hear about the showering. You know what? Don't answer that.)
Since I can't really create any coherent thoughts right now, I'm putting together a list of funny things from my first three weeks (!) at the bakery:

Opening the door (because my air conditioning is broken) lets the 'yummy smell' out and lures people in. I may continue doing it even after the air is fixed.
Also? Really? Air conditioning in February? I'm scared for July.
My hands are currently pink. Completely 100% pink. But the cake was super cute, so it was worth it.
Somewhere in my brain I thought I was going to have time to just sit out at one of the bistro sets and write. (Try not to laugh too loudly at that one)
No matter how old your child is, you have had at least a minimum of one year (365 days) to order the cake. I mean, it's their BIRTHDAY- same day it was last year, the same as the year before. Please order your cake in a timely manner. :)
In the book of "Stupid things I do" that I could write, there would be an entire chapter dedicated to "Burning myself on things that I know are hot, but touch anyway." Today, it was caramel. And it blistered.
According to Brad (and my part time help Jon) sugar free Red Bull is not lunch. I tend to disagree. Whatev.
If I thought I was a messy person when I baked at home, having a 'designated' messy area AKA the bakery has made me way worse. Like waaaaaay worse. And? I have 1,500 square feet in which to strow about my mess.
I do not want to speak ill of any competition, but I might have giggled inwardly when a little girl smiled and said, "Yeah! No more [insert name of another bakery type establishment]!"
Speaking of competition, I was scoped out by just about all of them. But everyone was super nice, and introduced themselves. But I had to laugh, they all tried the "We just love sweets! We will be in frequently! We're foodies!" I wanted to say, "Look, I know you're scoping me out. It's OK. I did it to you before I opened!" Because, lets be honestly, I love sweets and all, but I NEVER get dessert at a restaurant. What would I? I can make all this stuff at home. Either way, they were nice, so that was cool.
Boxes are expensive. Especially my cute pink boxes. Packaging. Ugh. I mean, I thought about it and all, I guess I just didn't really think about it. Actually, up to a certain size box, it's not a huge deal, they're all about the same price, close to 20 cents. But when you get to a dozen, you add the dozen divider. So it's 40 cents. But the cupcakes are $27, so it's not a huge deal. BUT when you do a single cupcake and sell it for $2.50 and the box is 20 cents. Well, that's something entirely different. It makes me want to be ghetto and charge for the box. WHICH I WILL NEVER DO. This is small business, people. It all comes down to a 20 cent box.
Speaking of boxes and random crap, I know who reads my blog because you guys spout random facts back at me that I forget I even wrote. So three months from now someone is going to be all, "You can keep your 20 cent box, I know it's going to break you." And I will laugh. And then squish their cupcake! (Fine, I won't squish the cupcake.)

So, yeah, after that last random tangent, I realize that it's after nine p.m., AKA my bedtime and I have officially used all of my available brain power today to make cupcakes and decorate cookies. So I bid you all a fond adieu.

My biggest before and after

2012-01-24T19:39:00.000-06:00

So I wrote this post today while at the bakery and clicked 'save' about a billion times.
It did not save. And as any blogger (or writer) knows, the second time around is not nearly as fun. Either way, here goes.

I can't believe that we managed to take this:

And turn it into this:

And I big puffy pink heart it. I love that it's well, pink. I love how new and pristine it is.

I love how wonderfully the pictures turned out. The ceilings are so tall that you can't tell those canvases are three feet tall. My friend Kyle did a wonderful job shooting my cakes, and Scott at Poster Boy did a great job on the canvases. They're so pretty.

I love the register area and my cloche jars. So pretty. Brad and I built that register/display area in about five hours (not sure if that's good or bad) but I had a migraine and was exhausted.

This is the side view of my window display. I love that display. (Obviously, I love all of it. I'm a bit biased.) I love that everyone who walks by stops and I can hear them ooooh and ahhhh over my cakes. It's rewarding, to say the least.

And aside from the cost of getting everything up and running, it's all going well. I had a great grand opening day (despite opening at 2 that afternoon, instead of that morning. I'm not going into it.) and that night we had a ton of friends stop by to support me. It was pretty great. So, that's it for now. While I'm excited to finally BE in the bakery, I'm kind of tired of talking about it. So, this will probably be the last bakery-related post for a little while. I'll just have to find something else to bore you guys with.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, the mixer is at home in the bakery and it works. (And, I can't even smell the garlic on it anymore.)

Guess what you can ask me now?

2012-01-11T22:19:00.002-06:00

How's the bakery?

That's right! I open Friday! But, because of the constant last minute stuff up there, I've been far too busy to blog about all the stuff I've done. This past Sunday I hosted a small preview party for some blogger friends. They got to see the progress (not nearly what I had hoped) and sample some of the treats I will be carrying.
I have to go get some sleep because tomorrow? I have to bake. So, in the mean time, go visit my friends' blogs and show them some love for, well showing me some love.
(It's just one big love fest over here.) And with typing that, I am officially too tired to be writing, so I'll leave it to them.
In no particular order (maybe in the order that I found them, or something.)
Kyran at Planting Dandelions
Kerri at Damn You Little Rock
Greg at The Dad Thing
Katie (and part 2) at (Not) Coming
Melissa at Run Melissa Run
Kat at Kat and Karl
Gina at Desperately Seeking
Jessica at Adventures in Futility and knitting
And Tonya did a really cool piece using Storify.

AND, an article in the Arkansas Times Eat Arkansas blog.

Thanks so much to everyone who was able to come out on Sunday, it was a fun event and the 'oohs' and 'ahhhs' were much needed encouragement to get through the rest of this week! Hope to see everyone for the Grand Opening on Friday! And I'll be back to blogging soon. You know, after I sleep.

Obligatory End of Year Post

2011-12-31T19:28:00.000-06:00

I miss writing, I do. I miss the feel of the keys beneath my fingers. I miss the way I would tap on the bar on the 'F' and 'J' buttons on the home row when I couldn't think of the right word. I miss going back over something and feeling the sense of pride of knowing I created that. That I had written that and chosen those words all by myself. I love what I get to do now. I love that I get to create ephemeral art in the form of baked goods. I like that despite being surrounded by pounds of butter and sugar, that my business clothes sag around my hips.
There was such a draw with advertising that I could touch many lives, that people saw my work and knew my ads. But let's be honest, if given the choice between eating cake or looking at a magazine ad, people would choose the cake. Every. Time.
It's a different kind of joy.
And it's a different kind of stress. Where once I grumbled about my boss and hated the rigors of the 8 to 5 life, I miss the security it provided in the form of a steady pay check and health insurance. But in it's place, I have a kind of freedom that most will never, ever know. The ability to be my own boss, to set my own rules, and to have the last say is something that I can't put a price on.
This year has been a crazy one, to say the least. I've been here before, but hopefully, never again. It wasn't as crazy as the last time I was unemployed for a year, but it was close. Instead of uncertainty over where my next paycheck was coming from, it's just been a matter of when.
As I type this, I'm noticing the paint splattered on my hand that I totally missed in the shower. In the past week and a half, Brad and I have finally been able to get into the bakery to do our work. We laid wood floors in the lobby area, painted the walls a bright pink and orange, hung bead board and painted it white, laid tiles in the bathroom and have begun the enormous undertaking of scraping down the concrete floors in the back kitchen area. I should have a timeline for my opening soon. I should know after tomorrow the formal opening date and I'll pass that along.
While 2011 has left a sour taste in my mouth, it's a year that led me to the point I'm at today and for that, I'm thankful.
If what they say is true and the best things take the most time, this bakery will be an adventure that I will never forget. I hope the few of you who are here hang around to join me on it.
I hope 2012 brings joy to each of you.

Bradversations

2011-12-20T00:37:00.001-06:00

Brad and I have long argued over music. It's one of the few things we completely disagree on. This conversation took place after he turned off an LMFAO song off.**

Me: What are you doing? That's a good song.

Brad: I don't like to bump out with my rump out. I like to rock out with my cock out.*

Me: Really? Well I like to bump out with my rump out.

Brad: You can use that if you like.

Me: What?

Brad: "Bump out with your rump out," I know it's awesome, you can use it.

Me: {rolling eyes} Oh, thank you.

Brad: That's not a sincere thank you, I'm taking it back, you can't use it.

Me: Oh, are you going to trademark it?

Brad: No, I'm going to Brad Mark it. Boom. Brad Mark the Brad Mark.

*In his defense, he had watched American Wedding the night before and was channeling Stiffler.

** And please, don't judge me on the LMFAO, I really do like to bump out with my rump out.

Here's the deal

2011-12-12T08:54:00.000-06:00

I have a ton of people who are super enthusiastic about my opening a bakery. For that, I will forever be thankful. BUT, I've reached that point.
That point where I've actively been struggling to open this bakery for over five months now. I've been without a job for close to seven months.
I've encountered multiple speed bumps. OK, fine, ONE GIANT SPEED BUMP that is my landlord. Regardless, I wanted to open in September. I didn't really tell him I wanted to open in September, but since we were having this discussion in July, I thought surely a few months wasn't that difficult. We discussed October as the open date (with me secretly thinking September could happen).
Nope.
They started dragging in drywall back in September. Good sign. "Woo hoo, this thing is going to happen!" I thought.
No.
It didn't. We didn't have a building permit.
That finally happened sometime toward the end of October.
Goodbye Halloween. I didn't want to make any desserts for you anyway.
So I was told that I would get a 'schedule' of when/where/what would take place. (I still don't have that.)
I asked if I could be in by Thanksgiving. I was told 'maybe.' OK, maybe sounds good.
Nope.
Adios Thanksgiving. I didn't want to make any pies or cakes for you anyway.
So then I said, "CHRISTMAS???? Can I make it by CHRISTMAS???"
Sure! Was the hearty response.
And then I realized that when I say 'Christmas,' I mean "Hi, I need to be open the weeks before Christmas so that I can be providing desserts for all the parties that happen the weekends leading up to Christmas."
But the guys in the bakery working hear, "I need to be open Christmas day, maybe sometime in the afternoon?"
So, no, at this point, I won't be open by Christmas either.
They are lying liars who lie.
Do you know what it's like to not have a job for 7 months? While concurrently dumping what money you do have into a business? Do you know what that's like when you also pile on the fact that some people refuse to pay you? Do you? Do you?
Sorry, didn't mean to start yelling and get all fired up, but I just wanted you to feel the pain that I've been going through.
SO THEN...
You're walking through Target, minding your own business, staring at the spatulas and you bump into a well meaning friend that you haven't seen in a month or so. And then they casually ask,
"Hey! How's the bakery coming along!?"
They're excited for me and totally want to come in and buy a cookie once I'm open.
Instead?
"Clean up on isle seven! Crazy girl just bit her friends head off!"
Le sigh.
To say that I've become certifiably insane is an understatement.
So, with that in mind, (if you're still reading) I ask you a small favor. I teeny tiny favor, if you will.
Please don't ask me if the bakery is open. Just don't.
If you love me (or even just like me a little), and you value your life, you won't do it.

When these guys get their shit together and finish my bakery, I'm going to have a party. And not just a grand opening party, I mean a party with booze. (There's a liquor store in my parking lot) I'm going to celebrate. I'm going to shout it from every single social media platform I have access to. Hell, I will join Pintrest and create some kind of crafty poster with cakes and the saying 'My bakery is open Bitches!' and it will be repinned no less that three hundred times. I will call you and say, "Guess what!?!?" (And you will think, 'Thank God, it's about bloody time.') I will post it on my Facebook -both on my page as well as the bakery's page. I will dance around and start harassing you as to why you haven't stopped by yet? and why didn't you order anything? And do you want me to have to sell my house? Do you hate me? Why do you hate me?
So I guess what I'm saying is:
When my bakery is open, you will know.
I promise, you will know.

Marathon

2011-12-04T16:48:00.001-06:00

I've discussed my disdain for running before. I've gone in depth on how crazy I think the people who do run are. No need to revisit that. But, some friends have recently started running. Hell, even dooce ran a marathon. Yesterday two friends ran the St. Jude marathon. One did the half marathon, the other finished the full one.
That is not my style. The only time I will ever run like that is if I were being chased and honestly I'd probably try to take the 'hide somewhere until they're gone' tactic. So, no the marathon I did had nothing to do with running.
It was a cookie marathon.
Arkansas Children's Hospital is celebrating their centennial. An amazing accomplishment. 100 years of hope and healing. I spent many summer days there myself waiting on appointments with my youngest sister. We knew where all the best waiting rooms where. We knew which ones had the best toys and the coolest stuff. So when a friend approached me to put in a bid to make some cookies for their centennial kick off event, I was intrigued. They wanted each employee to have a cookie with the logo on it.

How many employees, you ask?
Why 4,000.
Yes. Marathon indeed.
I knew I couldn't pipe a detailed logo on that many cookies in a short amount of time, so I opted to use edible images 'glued' down with icing on sugar cookies. I bought a printer at Staples and edible ink cartridges from KopyKake.
So, how much stuff goes into making that many cookies?
Glad you asked.
My typical batch of dough yields about 75-80 cookies, depending on the size. Meaning I needed to make about 48 batches of dough. I ended up total making 53 batches.
That's:
- 53 pounds of butter
- 265 eggs
- 100 pounds of sugar
- 140 pounds of flour
- a gallon of vanilla and almond flavoring (for cookies and icing)
- 112 pounds of powdered sugar (for icing)
and a few other ingredients in smaller amounts.

105 pounds of the powdered sugar

It took about 6 hours just to mix all the dough. (Would have obviously been much faster if I'd had access to my giant mixer).

It took about 14 hours to bake them all.

This is only 800 of them.

And another 20 hours to decorate and box them.

Granted, I did not do this all alone. I had several friends (and future employees) come in and help me. Plus my awesome husband. I seriously could not have done this without them.

Boxed and ready to go. Only half would fit in my car. Brad didn't think
we would actually finish.

From what I understand, there are two ways to put an edible image onto a cookie. You can use the KopyKake edible 'frosting sheets' (similar to the Wilton Sugar Sheets) or your can print on rice paper (fun fact: it's not actually rice). I opted for the frosting sheets as I had heard they tasted a bit better. BUT I found that for whatever reason, they just didn't dry well. When we stacked the cookies, the butter from the next cookie melted the sugar in the icing sheet and it then stuck to the back of that cookie. Basically the picture started peeling off. I did some looking around the internet trying to see what I did wrong, but I couldn't find anything. Apparently I'm the first person to encounter this problem. Really, I was looking for a blog post titled "I tried to stack 4,000 cookies with edible images on each other and they stuck, this is how I fixed it." Let me tell you, no such blog post exists.
Until now.
There is no fix. Or the fix we decided on was just to lay the cookies flat so they didn't really touch each other. This resulted in the use of several more boxes than originally planned, but also no sticking. So I call that a success. Because of the large scale of the order and the EXCEPTIONALLY difficult nature of the awful KopyKake frosting sheets, we wasted a lot of them (and they were expensive). One entire package of 24 sheets was so thin and sticky that we couldn't peel them off their backings. They rolled into balls of goo when we tried to cut them out. Another half package was so dry that they broke off in the printer and cracked while printing and would fall off, printing on the backing page instead (and wasting my very expensive edible ink). Since so much of it was wasted, we needed more paper but can't really get any locally (outside of one page at a time at Kroger or Walmart), I opted to try some of the rice paper for the rest of the cookies. I had no choice.
O
M
G.
Can I say that was ridiculously easier. So much so that I wanted to cry. They cut out like a dream. I could cut up to five sheets at a time. They printed beautifully and didn't rip. They didn't stick together like the frosting sheets. They didn't stick to the other cookies and peel off making me cry. AND? They were so much cheaper. Like 40 cents/sheet instead of $1.25/sheet. And, if I'd had time to buy them online, you can get 100 sheets for $20. And, Brad said they tasted the same. Completely.
So, cookie conclusion: Buy the kopykake ink refills for your [new] printer and find some rice paper.

This was a crazy learning experience for me. I didn't get much sleep. I believe Monday I got about 6 hours (before the madness started, I was just unable to sleep). Tuesday and Wednesday nights I got 4 hours, Thursday I got 3 hours. And then Friday night I was finally able to sleep for 12 hours straight. They say you can't catch up on lost sleep, but they lie. You can, so if I don't answer my phone or reply to an email or tweet quickly it's because I'm still catching up. Until next weekend, when we will be painting the bakery and laying the flooring!
I'm beginning to think I'll never sleep again.

Where I pretend to be insanely happy

2011-11-22T09:13:00.001-06:00

There comes a point when you're no longer excited about things. I no longer feel like picking out crap or giving a rats butt about how adorable everything will turn out. Right now, I just want to whine and wallow in my own self pity.
Which is totes lame. (And I use the word 'totes' in a very sarcastic almost 'hipster ironic way' meaning that I kind of like it but think I'm too cool to really like it so I pretend I do it ironically. That's what the hipsters are doing, right? Anyway.)
So I'm going to force myself to be happy and chipper and pretend like everything is fine. It's fine. Really.

OK, really, I have all my limbs and health and health insurance (which Brad now pays for and he likes to remind me how expensive it is.) Regardless, honestly, really really honestly, things are not that bad. They just feel like they are. It's that temporary moment I will look back at on and think 'oh my god you were being such a baby!' but right now, in the moment I just want to fling myself on the bed. Which I did last night. But not completely out of despair, but because I stressed myself into a migraine and was forced to lay there with a wet towel on my head while Brad ate a sandwich because I couldn't muster standing in front of the stove.
ugh.
But happiness!
Yes, it's there.
I finally got to see the Weddings In Arkansas fall/winter issue. Its both good and bad. Bad in that the actual print issue does have a photo of my cake, but does not list me as the baker or give any contact info whatsoever. Good in that the digital issue does, as well as has not one picture, but two pictures of my cake.

Gorgeous, right? I know, they did an amazing job! I snagged this photo from the digital issue of Weddings In Arkansas, photo credit goes to the awesome Nancy Nolan. (Who taught my friend Kyle a lot about photography)

I kind of hope that since the digital issue is free, people will check there and see my cake plus know how to get in touch with me. See the whole issue here)

The bakery is coming along. The guys are working but since we've had such delays getting to this point, I'm having a hard time being excited. I just need to be open. Yesterday I was hit with the possibility that I might not be open before Christmas and that scared the crap out of me. While they think it should be another week or two, I'm afraid of delays. Inevitable delays.

But, regardless, I have drywall up and they just need to mud and tape so we can come in and paint. I'll go pick up my paint later today at Sherwin Williams. I'm working on potentially a HUGE order. If I get it, it would mean a week of no sleep, but huge exposure as well as some seriously needed start up cash. (more on that later)

Originally, I had anticipated opening today. OK, I wanted to open back in September, but that is neither here nor there. I talked to another woman who just opened a bakery and she had the same problems. She was supposed to be in hers back in August. She just opened last Tuesday. So, I guess it's not just me.

I have been baking like crazy. Far too many cakes to post everything. But I did get to do a super fun cake for an adorable little 3 year old and I loved it. This is the kind of cake I want to be making all of the time. Tons of details, lots of different techniques and it just looked like a show piece when it was finished. The party was an Alice in Wonderland theme.

That's been my past week. I'm going to plaster on a smile and pretend like this whole starting a business thing isn't absolutely killing me.

Thankful

2011-11-08T23:50:00.000-06:00

Now, before you start, this post should not be confused with any of those Thanksgiving driven posts where we prattle on about the things we are thankful for in our lives, like our friends, pets and Starbucks. (Wait, is that just me?) This is about THE BAKERY!
Ha! Had you fooled there for a minute didn't I? Of course I'm still talking about that damn bakery. It is my business and all.
But seriously, although the battle is not yet over and I'm not quite open, there have been tons of people who have helped me get this far and I would be remiss not to thank them. (Speaking of opening, I've been told it's not out of the realm of possibility to be open before Thanksgiving! What?)

Number one: my husband Brad. He's been amazing. He didn't laugh at me when I declared that MBA be damned, I was going to decorate cakes! And while he teases me endlessly about the perpetual disaster the kitchen has been, he still cleans up after me- every night. And for that, I am very thankful (I really don't like doing dishes!). And, he's just been there as a sounding board and as a voice of reason when I'm crying over a bowl of buttercream icing. (Not in the buttercream, mind you, I wouldn't do that, I don't like a salty buttercream.)

Creating a bakery isn't difficult, but my friends have definitely made it easier. And, previously working at an ad agency gave me some skills and connections I wouldn't have had otherwise. Matt Owen is an art director who has recently been gaining notoriety among the film industry for his minimalist posters. He took the time to make me a logo. He actually made me three logos and I really loved them all. If a business could successfully work with three logos, I would have tried it. (Thankfully, I know better.) How a macho guy like Matt would work with pink and orange and pretty is a surprise. (Maybe it's his new baby Jane helping him tap into his softer side.)

From there, Nancy Ferrara, another art director created some adorable business cards and has been helping come up with some other marketing designs. I miss not being able to talk to her every day, but when I hand out a business card, I'm reminded of her. And speaking of said business cards, they were printed by my friend (and current houser of my giant mixer) Paul Strack of CustomXM.
I've been working with Scott Smith of Poster Boy on my store signage, car wrap and canvas prints. He's been crazy accommodating and awesome to work with. Plus he has super fast turn around-most things within 48 hours.

And I mentioned this before, but Ryan Byrd designed a wonderful website that I'm already getting compliments on. He worked with me on concepts plus he doesn't freak when I ask him my password [again]. Also, his wife Christen came to my house and took photos of some of my treats for the website as well. They were both great to work with and talented at their arts.

Outside of the branding and marketing aspects, I've had people just plain recommend me to people. That's huge. HUGE for me. For two reasons- obviously I'm not going to have new business unless people hear about me. But secondly, you guys believe in me enough that you're willing to put your reputation on me. That means so much to me.

I've had people place orders, some more than others (*cough* Kerri Case) Seriously, if I had a kid, I could send it to college on Kerri's orders alone. Instead, I keep the pups in the chew toys that they've grown accustomed to. :) Thank you, everyone who has placed an order. (Even those outside of driving distance who had to have some of my cookies shipped!)

Thank you to those who have liked me on Facebook, followed me on Twitter, tweeted about me, checked into my empty bakery, or shared a link to me either on Facebook or your blog or just told your neighbor that you know someone opening a bakery. It really does mean a lot to me.

Thanks to my friend Scotty Adams, who helped get me involved in the Signature Chefs event and walked around wearing one of my aprons and handing business cards to anyone who would listen to him. Speaking of that event, his wife and one of my best friends Heather rocked at keeping me in supplies while Luis and Monica helped me plate and pass out desserts.

And thanks to those of you who have offered to help. Just knowing that I don't have to do this alone is a huge comfort. Sometimes it's just an email with suggestions or recipes or things you've found online that I might be interested in, but it's all been great. And, know that in the next week or two I will be taking you all up on your offers to help. I've been collecting a bakery's worth of supplies and stock piling my house. I'm going to need help moving all of that to the bakery! And painting. I might need help with that too. And floors. Which, we ordered at Lumber Liquidators and they had been put even further on sale!

OK, I guess this love fest has gone on long enough. But I just wanted to put it out there that I am so thankful for all of you. Especially you, the one still reading this really long, boring and sappy post.

Crap, he's on to me

2011-11-07T22:28:00.000-06:00

So, you may have noticed that I haven't posted any of my wildly successful and hilarious 'bradversations' lately.
It's because Brad won't let me. Actually, he doesn't care if I write about him, he's fine with it. But lately, he's been starting conversations with, "OK, if I say this, you can't blog it...or tweet it."
Dammit.
And since I love my husband and the sanctity of marriage, death do us part, don't out your husband on your blog, yadda yadda yadda, I won't talk about that.
But I really want to. If you bump into me, I'll tell you in person. Because honestly, my stories are far better in person with all the ridiculous arm flinging anyway.
***
I wanted to set up a booth for Holiday House (If you're not local, it's an event where hordes of women kick off the holiday season far too early, crammed into a massive locale that still isn't big enough for all of them and they shop until they drop. It's three days of pre-Christmas chaos. And I need those ladies to know who I am!) So I casually looked up the availability of a booth back in September. I mean, two months prior to an event should be adequate time, right?
Wrong, wrong, wrong.
Booth reservations begin in April. APRIL. Seven months prior to the event. And, the booths are a little pricey. Well, pricey in that I'm not open yet and haven't made any money in five months. So I started looking for loopholes. And I found one.
Cut to conversation with Brad:
Me: Check it out, at Holiday House they have this event where you get there at 8 a.m. and you have until 9 to set up. Then you get to decorate a gingerbread house for like four hours while all the people at Holiday House watch you! It's like one of those Food Network challenges!
Brad: That sounds awful! Who would do that?
Me: *pause*
Brad: Tell me you didn't sign up for that.
Me: Uh...
Brad: Can you get out of it?
Me: No. I'm going to kick some ass!
Brad: Have you ever even made a gingerbread house?
Me: Not exactly. But I've read up on it.
Brad: So the first gingerbread house you ever make is going to be in front of a live audience? That's not a disaster.

The man does not have faith in me. Or he really knows me well. But you know what? The first cake I made was massive-enough to feed 200 people and I rocked it. So, if you need me, I'll be over here baking gingerbread and mixing royal icing. (Oh, and making a wedding cake, two going away cakes and three birthday cakes, and two dozen mario cookies- This week just got crazy.)

Progress

2011-11-02T09:37:00.000-05:00

Thankfully, there has been progress. Lots of good progress.
Not everything I need done, mind you, but a good amount. I got my business cards! (Special thanks to my friend Nancy for designing them and CustomXM for printing them)

Did you know I have a shiny new website for my bakery!? I do. My friend Ryan Byrd helped me to create Sweetlovebakes.com And by 'helped me create' I mean he built me a very cool site with minimal direction and my words. I'm still in the process of adding some of my existing photos to the gallery, it's tedious and all that and I'm slow. Also, there's a blog over there. I will be talking about the bakery and other treat-related topics on occasion. I don't know how frequently I will blog there, but it will be more 'professional' and slightly sales driven messages. (But not cheesy salesman, that's gross.)

Last week I attended the Signature Chef Auction for the March of Dimes.

It ended up being a very cool event. I had no clue what I was doing, but it was fun.

I served Raspberry soaked chocolate cake, a spiced rum cake and a vanilla bean cheesecake. They are my favorites. I loved hearing people come over and say, "Which is the cheesecake? My friend said it was the best." (For the record, I heard it about all three desserts, but I think the cheesecake was the top favorite.)

I had help from some of my CJRW friends who are into baking and into letting me rope them into crazy plans.

Monica and Luis, my sous chefs.

I also made entirely too much cake. Which is good. That means I can make less next year. It also means a local homeless shelter got a lot of cake. I hope they enjoyed it.

I also got to make some cookies for a Shrek the Musical meet and greet.

Do you know how difficult it is to make cookies look like characters? I definitely need some practice.

But back to the bakery. I got my business license as well as my Health Department approval. So things are moving forward there as well. And it looks like my official opening date is now Nov. 22. Yes, the week of Thanksgiving. I'm torn on whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. I'm going to pretend that only being open two days my first week is good. Because that's all I've got. Hopefully I can take some pre-orders for Thanksgiving and have some business.

SWW: Cookie Edition

2011-10-26T08:17:00.004-05:00

I've been on a cookie making kick lately. Kick in that people keep ordering them. And so I make them.

They are so much fun.

Where the Wild Things Are:

Angry Birds:

Dinos: (Rawr)

How precious are these birds?

I recently saw a book on a blog where they made 3D cookies and I was intrigued. It just so happened that I sat the cookie cutter up on its side and was inspired to make this happen. (Here's my tip in case you try to replicate something like this. I used a toothpick to hold the two cookies together while the icing dried and stuck it down into a square of styrofoam and pulled them out after they dried.)

And these are older, not sure if I've shared them, but LOVE.

Later this week I get to make Shrek cookies for the cast for Shrek the Musical!

A change of fortune

2011-10-23T17:39:00.000-05:00

Last night I tried to kill my computer. Not on purpose, mind you, but the end result would have been the same no less. I would have had a six-year old Apple brick had I pushed the 'upload all photos' button. See, I'm one of those terrible people who doesn't back up their iPhones. Blah, blah, blah. But last night I was trying to move some photos from my camera (phone) to the computer so I could add them to the gallery on my new webpage. Yes, my 'professional' webpage has iPhone photos, don't judge. Well, OK you can judge some, I would.
(I promise this is going somewhere).
So when iPhoto popped up, I hadn't dumped any photos there since (wait for it) July of 2009. Um, does technology only exist to make fun of us? Seriously?
Regardless, I found this photo: (see, going somewhere)

It's a fortune that I got at some point last year. And at the time, I posted it to Instagram and made a crude joke.

But last night, as I was working on my webpage, making a mental list of the things I still need to do versus what I have done, this fortune hit me in a different way. (OK, I still laugh if you add 'in bed' to the end of it)

It made me think how terribly cliche it is but that it's also terribly true. What is it about a cliche that makes them so true?

It's taken a while, but the crazy dreams about my last job have finally stopped. It was like my subconscious had to work through some things before I could finally let go. The first dream I had featured me being kicked off a bus full of coworkers because I didn't belong. The last one was me (I still went to 'work') at my office but I was decorating cookies there and left when I was done. It's been about a month since that one. I think the reason I've had such a hard time letting go is because I didn't fight for myself when I was let go. I just sat there numbly nodding my head. When I was told that I 'wasn't a team player.' I didn't point out all the times that I would help the artists cut out mats for presentations or how I helped file for our traffic coordinator. I didn't mention that I worked hard to make sure nobody ever waited on me.

When I was told that 'my work was slacking' and that 'it wasn't the caliber it used to be.' I didn't mention that all of my clients were happy and even five months after me being gone are still using my campaigns, that they're even rolling out new things with lines I wrote before I left. I also didn't point out how ridiculous and archaic it was to have one person be the gatekeeper of what is considered 'good' or 'not good' creative.

When I was told that it was not an '8 to 5 job' and that I 'always left at 5' I didn't bother pointing out that several other staffers didn't bother staying until 5, they left before that. I didn't mention that the Creative Director on the other side came to me and asked me why I always got to work so early and we discussed who came to work in what order (I was typically in the first 3 to 5 people to arrive). My boss wouldn't know that because he was always one of the last to arrive. (I didn't bother pointing that out either.)

I didn't defend myself because it didn't matter. He didn't want to hear it and I didn't feel like I needed to say it. But I do now. So I've said it.

Truth was, I was ready to leave. I wasn't happy anymore. I knew it but I wasn't ready to let go. I wasn't ready to take that leap.

Instead, I was pushed.

And sometimes in life, that's what we need. A good hard push in the right direction. So my new experiences have been interesting, exciting in fact. At my last job, I got to do exciting things. I walked through President Bill Clinton's personal space while going out to view the progress on the rooftop garden on the Clinton Library. It's a view of downtown Little Rock that few get to see. I've also written and had him speak my words, along with Governor Beebe and his wife Ginger. I've toured the Arkansas Delta interviewing people who have heart wrenching stories. I made some of them cry. I've seen my words grace the skyline, on a forty foot canvas. I've changed peoples minds about things. I've convinced people to quit smoking. I loved what I was able to do.

But now, I've done other things. Created an LLC. Marched into City Hall and gotten a business license. I've dealt with landlords and electricians. I've worked with friends to create a logo and a brand. My brand. And I know that the new experiences aren't stopping there. I'm looking forward to all of them.

Surely I can't be an adult

2011-10-17T10:15:00.000-05:00

I've come to the conclusion that I'm not an adult. It's just not possible. Despite not growing up in an idyllic home, I have certain ideas about what I consider a 'proper' adult to be. Below is my list of why I can not be an adult.

1. I do not have matching bathroom towels. None of them. They don't match each other, and they certainly do not match my bathroom.

2. I do not eat nearly enough vegetables. Unless potatoes count. I mean technically they do, but not really. I will eat them in fried, mashed, roasted, chipped (heh) and baked. But the leafy greens? While I do love salads, I haven't been feeling them lately.

3. I don't iron. Even when I wore 'dressy' clothes to work, I didn't iron. On occasion, I will steam a shirt, but usually what it looks like coming out of the dryer is what you will see.

4. I don't like wine. I've tried to like it. OK, fine, I didn't really try hard. I sipped it and declared it 'not my thing.'

5. I still get my feelings hurt. I really thought being an adult would bring some kind of emotional epiphany where I would be impervious to what other people say/think about me. I was very, very wrong. If it's possible, it's worse now than when I was a kid.

5a. I still cry.

6. I have terrible handwriting. I thought that all adults had neat handwriting that magically transformed into something legible once they got a certain age. That did not happen. Mine is a terrible mish mash of cursive and printing that always leans to the right and drops below the line.

That is just a sampling of why I think I can't possibly be an adult. (Ignore the obvious fact that I'm writing this from home in my PJs at 10 a.m.) What about you? Do you consider yourself an adult?

The good, the bad and the broken mixer

2011-10-11T14:04:00.000-05:00

So, I'm going to try to focus on the good, and not the bad. Not the fact that after five months of being out of work and several setbacks with the bakery my stomach finally began to really hurt. The sad thing is, this is how bad it hurt on a daily basis at my last job.
So, according to my body, working there is worse than being unemployed for almost half a year. Which says a lot coming from a workaholic like myself.
Anyway, the good. Well, actually lets start with the mixer. I was making cream cheese frosting. And I let the cream cheese get too soft. (See, it needs to be soft, but not too soft.) It was crawling up the beaters and in my already fragile state, sent me over the edge. Have you ever seen a grown woman fling herself on the floor in tears over frosting? It's not pretty. But Brad scooped me up and told me to go to bed. I said I had to finish the frosting first, so he offered to help. (Have I mentioned how much my hubs rocks?) I was using a knife to push the frosting back down into the bowl while adding more powdered sugar. Brad took the knife and started doing that part for me. And then it slipped and the knife got wedged between the beaters. No more mixer.
I was sad because well, I loved that mixer and they don't make that same one anymore. Also, Brad got it for me when we moved into our first house. I had really just started playing with cake decorating and desperately needed a stand mixer. We had agreed no Christmas gifts since we just bought a house. He bought it for me anyway. (This is why I'm spoiled.) I've purchased and returned a kitchen aid. I didn't like it. So now I'm trying the mixer from Better Homes and Gardens from Walmart. Hopefully it will do well. Who knows.
So back to the good. After my meltdown last week, I needed good things, and these are lifting my spirit as we speak [I type?]
Vanilla.
I purchased 1/2 pound of Madagascar vanilla from Beanilla. I've purchased from them before. I bought the Madagascar as well as the Tahitian. I didn't like the Tahitian, it's definitely more floral and I didn't care for it. I guess that's why Madagascar is the most popular vanilla. I also purchased some vanilla fleur de sal.

Caramels.
I believe that Liz was the one who suggested I try them. Then, I saw this recipe in a tweet from C&H Sugar. I had to try them. Caramels are kind of daunting. Sugar? Heat? Candy thermometer? I've always been scared. And yet, these really were simple. And sooooo delicious! Definitely worth trying if you have the time.

This Table.
I found this table at the Civitan (local shop like goodwill) for $10. Yes, ten whole dollars. I know nothing about furniture styles or age or anything, but this looks to be the 'good' old, in great condition and itching for a coat of stain.

Sprinkles.
Seriously, this list could have just had 'sprinkles' on it and I would still be just as happy. I really want my bakery to have the best. To have things that others just aren't carrying locally. I came across these dark chocolate flakes and had to have them. They're not those waxy chocolate jimmies that you typically encounter on a cupcake. These are tiny flakes of deliciousness. And I had to have them. The webpage said that you should have them overnighted to prevent melting. I like to walk on the wild side, by which I mean, I refused to pay $50 to overnight $20 worth of sprinkles. I risked it. And thankfully, they arrived in their perfect pristine flakes and not a globby box of chocolate goo.
And that makes me happy.
(Also, I hate the idea that I have to worry about heat and melting in mid-October.)

Even though I'd rather end on a good note, I will go ahead and say this: I'm not going to be able to open in October. I feel devastated. Which is really silly. Some of the devastation comes from the fact that I've been waiting several months, thinking that things were being done, only to find out that nothing has been done. Meaning had I pushed a few months ago, I could already be open. That kind of stuff drives me bonkers. But, I'm just going to take it in stride. Life and all.

THE Book

2011-09-26T22:38:00.001-05:00

So, this is THE book. (No, not that book)

This is the book where I put all my 'approved recipes.' Recipes like Triple Threat brownies (they have three different kinds of peanut butter), vanilla bean cheesecake, Oh Dear! cookies (cranberries, orange and white chocolate? I think so.) and Spiced Rum Cake.
It's also got the classics like chocolate fudge cake, white wedding [cake], strawberries and cream cake, sugar cookies, from scratch Oreos (not sure what to call those), zucchini bread, an oatmeal chocolate chip cookie that will rock your socks off and a brown sugar frosting.
The newest additions include candied bacon, banana's foster cupcakes, burbon bacon truffles and a salted caramel sauce.
Things I'm still waiting to try out that might make it into the book: crepe cake, baklava, and I want to play with marzipan.
So I guess the question is, what am I missing? I like to make up new recipes when I can or modify something that already has a great start. So what's the latest recipe you've picked up that I need to have in my bakery?

Can I keep it?

2011-09-22T12:10:00.000-05:00

So I just finished up my second project for Restore and After (You can check out the first one here). It is a hutch that started out that golden orangey oak. (Why was every piece of furniture made that color? Ewe.)

See? I'm sure my grandmother would think this is lovely and I fully admit that generations from now people will ask why I stained all this beautiful wood a dark brown.

When I first saw this piece, I thought it would be great for the bakery. I kind of love it. And after I finished it, I really don't want to let it go. Maybe nobody will bid on it and I can bring it back home. :)

I decided to do a similar look as the first piece I did. I stayed with a dark stained top and a painted bottom. This is for two reasons. Staining the entire thing is really difficult and time consuming. You have to get all the previous stain and poly off and it's not always easy. But I love the look of staining opposed to painting. And the reason I didn't paint the top is because that is one surface that things will be set on-possibly drinks, plus the top of the unit could easily scratch paint off and I didn't want that.

I originally tried to stain it Antique Walnut. That did not go well. It was the same orangey oak color! So I sanded the top down again and went back to my tried and true American Walnut. (It's harder to find in stores but you can order it online. I only had a little left, but it was enough to finish.)

Sanded with wood conditioner

With one coat

With two coats

After I finished the top, I got to work on the doors and drawers. Instead of doing the process where I painted the doors and then scraped the paint off to add interest, I went with a process we did on our kitchen cabinets. You can actually buy the kits from some of the kitchen cabinet companies at Lowes, but I did this with the stain that I originally didn't like on the top!
After priming and painting all the surfaces (and allowing to dry), using a sponge brush, coat the surface with the stain (again, I used the Antique Walnut polystain-meaning I gave me color and shine in one step!)

Don't let it sit for long, Basically as soon as you put it on, wipe it off with a paper towel. You want to leave some of the stain around the edges where there is detail. Wiping it all over and then removing it gives the whole surface a slightly darker color and ages it. You can leave as much or as little of the stain as you like.

After that, let the stain sit for a day before touching it. Now, you could stop right here. But I didn't. The stain set we bought for our kitchen cabinets included a splatter stain. (you could do the same with an oil based stain in a very dark color, like an ebony.
It's best to do this outside if possible and with rubber gloves and a hard bristled brush (a small craft type brush.) You should probably practice on a piece of cardboard first. I will dip the brush into the stain and with my left hand, I will run my fingernail across the top of the bristles, flicking them. (this is why the bristles need to be hard, a soft brush won't do this.) If you don't practice, you can end up with giant splotches that require you to basically start all over. (Yes, I know this from experience on our kitchen cabinets.)

You will see the dots when it's up close, but from a distance, they're not as noticeable. But it gives the piece a really nice vintage feel.

Originally, I wanted to stain the back of the piece a dark color, like the top. But then I thought it would be more fun to add a color. The only color I had on hand that I thought would be nice was the one from our dining room walls. I'd been panning it for a while and got in love with the idea/color. But then? I opened the can and it was thick. No so thick that I couldn't use it, just thick enough I probably shouldn't have. It didn't go on well, despite my thinning it down with lots of paint thinner.

But I'm stubborn and I kept painting. Originally, I had planned on doing the same staining technique as the rest of the piece, but the thickness of the paint created its own unique aged look and I really ended up liking it. Brad came in and he agreed that it looked cool. So I left it.

I really, really wanted to buy new hardware. But a couple of things prevented that. First, I'm trying to open a business and that whole 'no job' thing. The other was that I would want to put Oil Rubbed Bronze on it and not everyone has that metal in their homes. This would look nice with a brushed nickel as well. So I decided to put the original stuff back on. The eventual owner can hopefully outfit it with hardware that they like. But I did decide to replace the two door knobs with some from Hobby Lobby. The blue matches the back perfectly!

So after a few weekends, here is the finished hutch:

A few notes:

Definitely take the back off to paint, it will make your life so much easier. Also, remove all hardware and take the piece completely apart. Don't just paint around hinges, remove and start clean, you'll end up with a much nicer piece in the end.

White paint color: Valspar antique white off the shelf from Lowes

Blue paint color: Bher paint and primer in one color "Harmonious"

Top stain: Minwax water based wood stain in American Walnut

Stain over paint: Minwax polyshields gloss in Antique Walnut

My book

2011-09-20T06:53:00.000-05:00

This is what my book looks like right now. 111 pages, 46,313 words, 14 chapters. There's still a bit to go. I think I'm going to need around 60,000 words to finish it, meaning I'm about 70% done. I started this book last year for NANOWRIMO in November.

I've heard on average, it takes about a year to write a book, so at least I'm on track with everyone else.
It's interesting to go back and read portions I wrote months ago. I love that I can see my character changing. Obviously, she's based on me to an extent so it's been a challenge to move her into areas that I might not be comfortable in myself. I've put her in situations that I've never been in, so it's funny to see what 'she' does with them. I've had an interesting time watching my characters do things that even I didn't expect.

It's been a challenge in thinking on a large scale. Trying to keep each chapter interesting while still maintaing an arc to the story as a whole. I've had to create a cheat sheet to keep all my characters straight. In the beginning, I jumped around, writing whatever portion struck me at the time. So recently I've been piecing everything together, working to make it all make sense.

I've really enjoyed it. I'm terrible about finishing things, as this is technically my sixth attempt at writing a book (if you count the book about coping with divorce I started at age 12 and the demented murder mystery I started at 14). I still plan on writing two of the others, another fiction and a memoir of sorts (frankly, I hate calling it a memoir, that seems like I think I'm important or something).

And while it has been fun, (please ignore the pun) I'm really ready to move on to the next chapter. But finishing this is something I have to do, so I'm going to. (Ignore the fact that I'm currently avoiding it by writing this.) Either way, if it ends up I can't get an agent and sell it, I fully expect you guys to download a copy and pretend to read it!

Bradversations

2011-09-19T12:01:00.001-05:00

A conversation in reference to staying out late:

K: Anything after 2 a.m. I turn into a pumpkin.

B: What?

K: Cinderella.

B: She turned into a pumpkin?

K: No, the carriage did. It's a saying.

B: Oh, so she just turned into an ugly chick?

K: No, she turned back into a poor chick, she wasn't ugly.

B: Poor, ugly, same thing.

Also guys, he's catching on. He walked in the other day and said, "OK, I'm about to say something but this better not end up a Bradversation." I agreed. So you're not going to be able to read it, but you would have loved it.

SWW: Progress

2011-09-14T07:00:00.000-05:00

While I've been busy in the kitchen making these:

They've been busy in my bakery putting up these.

The first set is cake dummies and the second set is walls, for those of you following along at home.

Bradversations

2011-09-06T15:52:00.002-05:00

After rolling out some fondant and making a mess of the counter, I decided to clean up. I grabbed the sponge and started wiping when I hear Brad yell, "Smile!"
I look up to see he has his phone pointed at me, taking my picture.
"This is such a momentous occasion, I figured I needed to capture it for posterity."
(I get it, I don't clean much. Thanks)

I didn't make breakfast on Sunday morning, this was the conversation that took place:
Brad: "What are you doing in there, foraging for nuts and berries? You're like a squirrel."
Me: "What?! I'm a squirrel? You just ate glazed walnuts for breakfast."
Brad: "Squirrels don't eat glazed walnuts, that's different."

The bakery takes over

2011-09-01T14:24:00.005-05:00

Currently, I have the contents of a bakery residing in my house. Everywhere you turn, there's more and more stuff.

In the stairwell going up to the bonus room.

This mess wrapped around the corner, but Brad made me move it.

In the bonus room.

There are 2 more bistro sets in the boxes. I'm going to
recover these cushions. Eventually.

In the spare bedroom.

These cake dummies are to be decorated.

And the spare bedroom closet.

Glass cloche jars and more glass!

In the laundry room.

Work in progress.

Even in the garage. So you know, basically the entire house.

Oven, natch.

My kitchen [which is rather large] is beginning to burst at the seams. Additional glitters and luster dusts and cookie cutters and cooling racks are beginning to stack up.

This requires storage. I love clear plastic bins and organization.

Even paint samples litter the wall in the pool table room.

Why yes, those frames are empty, why do you ask?

I think I'm going with the Hush Pink. While I adore the Botticelli Angel, I'm afraid on the large scale it will be too pink.

It's a slightly peachy pink. So pretty!

Yesterday I ordered $400 worth of pastry boxes. They're coming to the house as well. I'm thankful for the bonus room and the fact that it's not a media room yet!

I don't have a definite date on when I will be opening right now, but things are finally moving at the location. Demo started last week and we're discussing a few items-you know the walls, the ceiling and the floor. Nothing too important! But I have a floor plan and everything is moving. I'm certain there will be delays. There always are. But as of right now, we have forward progress and that makes me happy.

I have to be in the location by October 27. OK, October 24 or something. Because I've agreed to do the Signature Chef's event for the March of Dimes on the 27th. (I'll need a few days to prep the food, of course!) I'm really excited. It's going to be almost like a launch party for me, plus it's a wonderful event for a great cause. I'm putting together my auction item and I think it's going to be cool. I really hope that it brings in some big bids for the babies! If you don't have plans that night, (and you live here) you should think about coming.

I've got other things going on as well, and I'll let you in on them as I can!

Growth

2011-08-29T15:24:00.000-05:00

Some changes stand up and smack you in the face, you just can't ignore them. Like the year that I shot up nine inches between seventh and eighth grade. Technically it was over the course of two summers, but all told, I went from being the runt (one of three girls under five feet and less than one hundred pounds) to falling right in line with everyone else.

5th grade choir.
Can you see me on the front row?
Apologies to anyone that recognizes themselves.

Front row again. Why?
You wouldn't be able to see me otherwise.

Other changes are more subtle. Slow growth over time, tiny changes day by day. These take you by surprise. Where you look back and think, 'when exactly did this happen? And how did I miss it?'

Our house right before moving in.

If I had to choose one kind of change over the other, I would surely choose the first. I'm all about instant gratification. I need things to move quickly. I want to see results. That's why I'll never be one of those people that work out. It just takes too long.

Present day. The trees have filled out, the sod has taken,
and we've painted the exterior.

But, that subtle change? It's probably the best. It's change in the truer sense of the word. It's more honest and earned.

I'd like to think that I've changed lately. That I've grown. That the changes are so tiny I might not be able to see them yet, even in myself. I like to think that I've grown a thicker skin. That somewhere along the way, I've grown into the adult that the number on my driver's license represents. I hope that my recent setbacks have not been in vain. And that the opportunities that lay before me are doorways to untold adventures and not giant steps in circles. I hope that looking back on these weeks, months and years will make me laugh, make me cry in a good way and make me see that I am growing after all. Like the little trees in my yard – stronger, fuller and reaching for the sky.

Status

2011-08-23T08:32:00.000-05:00

I've been a bit busy with cakes lately. Which is good. This past weekend, I had my first third hand referral. A year ago, I made a cake for a friend for a baby shower:

The woman who the shower was for called me [this year, obviously] and asked me to make a cake for her daughter's first birthday:

She told her friend about me and her friend called and asked me to make a cake for her daughter's birthday:

These are the kind of happy success stories that I love. I also got an email from a guy who had a piece of his coworkers leftover chocolate cake. He wanted the exact one for his wife's birthday. Do you know how awesome it is to have an email sent to you where the subject is 'the best chocolate cake ever?'

This past weekend, I made three different cakes. I ran into some trouble. They were lopsided. The icing was cracking. They looked terrible. Sometimes this happens. Usually I cuss. OK, I cursed this time too. But Brad paused his TV show, came over and said, "It's OK. Just add a layer of frosting." Almost in tears, I pointed to my mixer bowl, dirty in the sink, piled with junk. "I got it." He said.
And just like that, I was calmer. He washed my dishes, took away the frustration and set me back down a path where I was less freaked out. I decorated while he went to the pool with our friends.
I managed to finish the [above mentioned] animal cake:

A baby shower cake and cake dippers:

And a mini dessert cake:

I know that going forward, this is what most of my weekends will be like. This is what I will be doing with all of my time. Creating. And sharing a gift with others. I love the thought that while I was cleaning my kitchen and getting ready to go out for the night, people were staring excitedly at my cakes, anxiously waiting to tear into them. I love that people trust me to make their special events all the more special. And I can't wait to be doing this full time.

Restore and After

2011-08-19T04:32:00.000-05:00

I've made it no secret that I've been bored lately. Bored mixed with anxious. On a normal day, I can't sit still for 20 minutes, but lately? Three is pushing it. I need an outlet for my energy and projects to help pass the time.
I found out about a project called "Restore and After" it's an auction benefitting Habitat for Humanity. The way it works is people in the community volunteer to buy and rehab something purchased at a Habitat Restore location then donate it to HFH. These items are then auctioned off and the proceeds go to help build houses. The event takes place September 29 from 6-9 p.m., the tickets are $25 each. (so, you know, think about going!)
I've purchased items from the Restore before and here, the North Little Rock location has a much better selection than the one in Benton. But, Benton is closer so I've gone there more frequently. There were several great pieces I would have loved to rehab, but seeing as I'm not working, I could only afford to buy a small one.
I bought this table:

Hanging out in the back of the Cube.

It's large enough to either be a coffee table for a smaller room, an end table or even a night stand. Initially I couldn't decide if I wanted to do a practical rehab or a more fun/artistic one. Practicality got the best of me, I decided to go with a shabby white paint paired with a dark stained top.

I started by sanding it all down. Since the top was going to be stained, I had to get all the poly and stain off of it. Not going to lie, that took a while.

But isn't it so pretty? Better already.

Since the side boards were veneer and not solid, I didn't want to try to get all the stain off, so I just scuffed it up enough for the primer to take hold. I knew I would eventually be scuffing off the white paint on the feet, so I sanded it down well so that it would take the stain.

After I sanded, I put down a layer of wood conditioner. THIS IS A CRUCIAL STEP. Seriously, it will make your piece look so much better. Otherwise the stain might not absorb evenly and your beautiful new piece will have splotches. If you don't have wood conditioner, just wipe it down with a layer of water (not a ton, just enough to dampen the wood. Wait for it to dry a bit then stain.)After that, layer on the stain. I used two layers on the top. Long even brush strokes work best. A sponge brush works best, no bristle marks. I've found, if you have a spot that's too dark, brush on more stain and then immediately wipe off. You might have to work it a bit to get it even, but it helps.

Stain: Minwax American Walnut

Since the bottom was going to be painted, I didn't bother with poly on it, but the top? It has the potential to hold cups with water rings or ink pen marks or little kids, so I topped it with four coats of clear gloss polyurethane. It shines so beautifully.
Next came the primer; two layers followed by three layers of paint.

Paint: Valspar Antique white off the shelf at Lowe's.

Then the scuffing. I almost felt bad messing up the perfect paint job.

But then I decided it looked better like this. In addition to the paint and stain, I replaced the hardware, with two new sleeker knobs from Home Depot as well as added new magnets to keep the doors closed.

Overall, I think it was a success. Hopefully someone will be excited to take this home.

Before

After

If you have some time [and you're local] and want to rehab a piece, follow them @Restoreandafter on twitter or, let me know and I can get you in touch with someone. Or, just head out to your local Habitat Restore and buy something for yourself. It's a great organization that helps the community, plus you have the added bonus of keeping something out of a landfill and saving yourself some money on a nice piece of furniture, not some particle board junk. (seriously? This table is HEAVY.)

Ponder

2011-08-15T16:25:00.000-05:00

When I was in the sixth grade, I broke my arm. When it gets cold or the rain comes down, I can still feel that ache in my bone like it happened yesterday. I've been told that people who lose a limb still have phantom itches and pains. Imagine to not be able to use your arm or leg but to still be bothered with the need to scratch it.
Lately, that's how I feel about the loss of my job. It's so terribly silly I think. To still be bothered by something that happened months ago. To know what lies ahead for me, but still, it makes me sick to my stomach. Like the ache of losing your first true love.
It took a while for me to realize it, but I'm stubborn as hell, headstrong and ridiculously ambitious. It was said that Caesar was ambitious. And if it were so, it were a grievous fault.
Is that my fault? Living a life of too much responsibility leads to the feeling of needing that responsibility. I have long suffered in my jobs. Quiet until I can't hold it in any longer, like a tea kettle percolating until it screams to be removed from the heat.
I struggled to get into advertising. A hard, long road paved with favors that never materialized, pulled strings that did nothing and acres of paper in the form of resumes and cover letters.
There are some things in life that you just never get over. You will never let go of. You hold it to you like the smell of a shirt from a long lost friend. This is one of those times. Like when we ran over the family dog when I was 13 and it died in my lap on the way to the vet. The sting of humiliation from a spanking as a child for something you truly knew better about.
Losing a job, especially a job like this was, and still is, hard for me. I worked hard to get here. I begged, pleaded and dammit, I just plain tried as hard as I could. I knew that I wanted to go into advertising when I was fifteen. More than half of my life, I've known just what I wanted to do. And for a while, I got to do it. And for that, I should consider myself lucky. But instead, I find myself angry, sad and missing it terribly.
There are skills you acquire as you work a job, any job. When I worked retail, I could glance at a piece of clothing and immediately notice details others might not. Things like flat busted seams, contrast stitching, nipple rivets and could tell from the lay of the buttons whether the shirt was intended for a male or female. Now, I find myself identifying typefaces, recognizing needle drop music in TV shows and commercials. "I've used that piece of music before." I said last night as we watched Dateline. "It was in a commercial about a man and his daughter." Or the piece I hear on House Hunters all the time that we used for a pitch. I had picked that one out. I still like it.
Eventually, these skills will fade. My awareness of them diminished. I will go back to a time when advertisements simply cluttered my magazine and interrupted my shows. Instead, I will find myself tasting the subtle nuances in the chocolate. I will become aware of the texture of cakes. I will explore flavors and pairings and learn techniques that involve things like himalayan pink salt and madagascan vanilla. I will become well versed in whipping meringues and gum paste flowers.
My life is different now. Another book set on the shelf, collecting dust. And while right now it makes me sad, it makes me tense, it makes me angry; eventually, I will look back with the rose colored glasses of the past and smile. While hindsight may be 20/20, the past is best viewed through the fuzzy glasses.

Like a dramatic six year old

2011-08-11T19:18:00.000-05:00

It's summer. Early August to be precise. (I know you needed me to clarify this for you because you were all, 'are you sure, I think it's November.') Anyway, it's that perfect time of year where summer break is about to be over for most kids and maybe the looming school year hasn't sunk in yet. So this hypothetical kid is lying on the floor, arms and legs splayed about wailing at the top of his voice, "I'M SOOOO BORED!"

Except instead of a kid, it's me. And instead of laying on the floor, I'm sitting at my desk. Either way, it's practically the same. I guess where it's different is that I have a car and a set of skills that could rival the illest fifties housewife.

Two weeks ago my boredom produced a dozen and a half pillows. We literally don't have enough beds to house all of these pillows!

See? Headboard. Pillows. No bed.

I even went shopping and scored this awesome chair for $20. I'm thinking of trying to reupholster it, but I'm scared I might mess it up. (And yes, that is another pillow that I made, I was on a roll.)

Then, I went on a jelly making bender. Which resulted in one burned arm and orange marmalade all over the kitchen. There's still some in the drawer with the dish towels. Heh.

I made some particularly yummy strawberry/peach jam. I would share the recipe, but I kind of just made it up on the fly. That's how I roll when I'm bored.

THEN earlier this week, I went to my sister-in-law's house and we painted my niece's bedroom. Her big girl room that she will be moving into soon.

We pained the top half a light pink (truly, it looked lighter on the sample), the bottom half a darker pink (Sleeping Beauty's Dress, to be precise.) and took inspiration from her bedding and painted flowers and vines all around the room.

And this is part of her chalk board. Too cute.

Then, today, this happened. I couldn't breathe for a little bit.

Actually, I danced around the house and freaked out the dogs. Part excitement, part boredom.
This is my life. And while sometimes I drives me nuts. I wouldn't trade it for anything. Except maybe being a rock star. I can't sing, but I hear they do great things with that autotune.

Just stuff

2011-08-05T17:17:00.001-05:00

There are so many random things I know. Like the fact that posting this on a late Friday afternoon ensures that few people will actually read this. I'm OK with that. This is one of those posts that are more for me than anything else.

I was born 8-8-80 at 8:58 p.m.
Can you guess my lucky number?

Monday is my birthday. I will turn 31. I don't know what it is about 31 that seems so scary, but it is. Last year when I turned 30, I said adios to my twenties with a roaring party where I passed out before midnight. I've never been a good partier. And that's OK. But this year? It's different. 31 seems very 'mature' in the sense that I'm not in my twenties any more. I can't physically go out and act a fool all night, nor should I. It's also different because I'm stepping out and launching my own business. It's moving so quickly and at the same time, so slowly. I've got so many projects and plans in the works right now that if even half of them are successful, I will have no problems not only returning to the lifestyle I was accustomed to, but even surpassing it. (I will share these plans as I can)
There's just something about the New Year and birthdays that make us reflect. Another year older and hopefully wiser. Another year gone. Did I spend it doing something productive? Did I enjoy it? Did I learn anything?
I have learned much. I have learned that age and maturity do not go hand in hand. That job security is a myth told to us by our parents. I have learned that friends-true friends are hard to come by. I have more of them than I would have thought, but they are not the ones I would have named a year ago. And I am the one to blame for that. I have learned that I am capable of much. That I have done much great. And I will continue to do great things. I have learned that even when I cry, I'm stronger than so many others. I have learned that once again, I have a husband that will stand by me through thick and thin. (and all I have to do is give him the remote control.)

I have learned that family has nothing to do with the blood that runs through my veins and everything to do with those I choose to surround myself with.
In this past year, I have fallen down. But better, I have picked myself up. I have made friends, I have grown stronger friendships, I have felt more comfortable as myself than I ever have my entire life. I have grown into my skin and I like the way it feels.
Somewhere along the way, I figured out that luck was something you could make for yourself. So I wear this necklace every day to remind myself that I am in fact 'lucky' and that I can do something about where I am at in life.
There were many ups last year, but there were also several downs. Thirty was a good year for me, and I'm excited to see what 31 brings.

Blog love

2011-08-02T16:50:00.001-05:00

What I want to do right now is complain. Complain that I burned my arm making orange preserves (don't ask). Complain that I have a killer headache (which I read can be linked to the temperature, hmmm, it's currently 105º here right now, can't image why my brain feels like an egg being boiled that's cracked open). And I want to complain that things just aren't moving fast enough.
But I'm not. Instead, I thought I'd share a list of some of my favorite blogs right now. The ladies out there that make me laugh, think and get in the kitchen and try new recipes.

jim et nicole

What started as a blog to help design/work through her wedding, Nicole now shares darling photos of things from around the internet. She's a sweetheart, a former coworker, and writer by trade. She signs off every post with an xo, which I find adorable because knowing her, she truly means it.

Cookies and Cups

Shelly is not someone I know personally, but I wouldn't mind if I did. She's a riot and her recipes are insane delicious and not at all intimidating. Today? She made up snickers popcorn. Definitely going to have to try that.

Cake for Breakfast

I love it because she's back. Sarah was around for a while and then stopped blogging. I was a bit upset, I thought she stopped living her fab life, but no, she was just too busy living it to tell us about it. She's fun and knows her way around a camera. If I could, I'd hire her to follow me around and take pictures of everything. I think that would be fun.

Week of Menus

Ever think you're the last person to find something? That's how I feel with this blog. She's been around for a while but somehow I've never encountered her before! Great photos, great recipes, fun story telling. I dig it all.

Flourish in Progress

Elizabeth is awesome. A mom who rocks hard and has managed to avoid the mall for almost a year. Her stories are hi-larious, if I do say so myself. Plus she's super encouraging. If I had to pick five people to take with me to an island, she would be one of them.

Darn Near Domestic

Kristy explores new recipes and then shares the results with us, including what her kids (ages 7 and 2 I believe) think about them. Often, that's the best part. She's funny and cool and even though I don't have kids, I get it. She's on a brief bloggy break, so she might not even see this.

Am I Doing This Right?

Erin is an amazing writer, seriously, as someone who's been paid to write, I can't believe she just does this for fun. Her stories are heartwarming, hilarious and sometimes sad. She's a mom of three with another on the way. And anyone who refers to her subscribers as 'the gang from Java Joe's' has my Friend's loving heart.

Ummmm

I think the title of her blog kind of sums it up. What would you expect from a blog written by a yoga instructor to the stars? Exactly. That's what you get.

Domestically Challenged

Sara can be boiled down to two facts. 1. She has a overwhelming fear of ax murderers. 2. She loves to run. Those two things might be related, I'm not sure. I've loved Sara's blog for a while, but lately she's taken a private battle public, and I commend her for the strength and courage that requires. She's awesome and I big puffy pink heart her.

OK, that's just a smidgen of the lovely blog ladies that I adore. I've also got a ton of local lovelies that are wonderful (like Kerri, Savannah, Sarabeth, Liz and Amy) that I know IRL. So, if you don't know these blogs already, you should get to know them. I'm so very glad that I have.

2011-08-01T13:01:00.004-05:00

About a week ago, Brad mentioned that he would mow the yard the next day when he got home. I thought it would be a nice surprise if I mowed it for him.
When he came home, he burst through the garage door and started yelling:
"Call someone, I'm not sure who, maybe CNN, but it appears we have a self-mowing yard! Someone needs to know about this!"

Funny guy.

***

I was decorating a cake with the TV on when he walked in.
Brad: What's this? Some girly movie?
Me: Yes.
Brad: Is it that movie about the pants that move and stuff?
Me: Um, the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants? No, it's not. It's Shopaholic.
Brad: She shops for pants. Same thing.

No, it's not, but now I know how he felt when I said Rambo and Die Hard were the same.

SWW: Pillows

2011-07-27T07:55:00.000-05:00

I went on a pillow-making bender this week.

More than fourteen so far, and I'm not done.

We've never really had any good 'softscaping' in the house.

Pillows. Curtains. Stuff like that I've never tried.

Now I have. I made pillows for everything.

The spare bedroom. (and the other spare bedroom.)

The living room.

Our master bedroom.

I played with cording, bias trim and buttons.

Now, I just need a LOT of stuffing.

Coffee Table

2011-07-24T10:52:00.001-05:00

So during all of this bakery planning, I've had about twenty people ask, "Are you going to have coffee?" And the first time I answered no. The second time too. But then somewhere along the line I thought, 'Crap, I better have some coffee!'

Here's the problem. I'm not a coffee snob per se. I don't like coffee in the true sense. I love the smell of it. It's glorious. But growing up, I drank my mom's Folgers coffee with tons of sugar and cream. That lasted me for years. When I started working at the Buckle, my boss got me hooked on White Chocolate Mochas at the Coffee Beanery. And now I still drink the same thing at Starbucks (plus the occasional java chip frappuccino when it's too warm for hot coffee.)
Regardless, I'm not a coffee connoisseur. I know what I like, but I'm sure it's not what everyone else likes. Also, this is a bakery, not a coffee shop. So after much consideration, I decided I would carry two different kinds of coffee- a bold blend and a medium blend.
I'm still trying to decide on the brand. I could either go local and support a local business (which, as a local business, I think I probably should) or I could carry something from another state and potentially be 'the only place in LR carrying that coffee.' Which, I like too. I'll most likely go the local angle.
Either way, I needed a hub for my coffee. I don't want to serve it, make it, mix it, any of that. So I've decided to go with a self serve cart. I'll sell the cup, you make it yourself. I'm going to have sugars, creamers, syrups and all of that available.
I had an old table that we had loaned to my sister when she moved into her apartment. I got it back (she actually wasn't using it anymore) and repainted it.

It started like this:

I sanded it down with our electric sander, this removed all the existing layers of poly. It's a pain in the butt, but really helps the paint to adhere. Evil, but necessary.

Got a few coats of Kilz primer:

Pup wondering what I'm doing hanging
out in the laundry room.

Followed by several coats of paint:

Color: Bher Apricot Flower

Followed by sanding/scuffing:

The tip to make this look the best is to hit high points, areas that would actually get scuffed during regular use. Areas like around the knobs, The bottom of the lip where the drawer would scrape and the outside 'corners' of the legs.

Using varying grits of sandpaper, I started by using a low grit (big chunks) to pull of big sections of paint, followed by a finer grit to rough up around that area to make it look more realistic. In some areas I went down to just the white primer, and in others, I went all the way down to the wood.

Then I added several coats of clear poly. I used a semi-gloss. I like a tiny bit of shine, but not gleaming, That wouldn't work with this kind of shabby chic project.

To finish off, I added pink ceramic knobs from Hobby Lobby. I love their knob selection!

Then, I found the cutest pink drawer liner at Michaels.

How cute are the insides of these drawers? So stinkin' cute. I know. The brand is Treasures by Shabby Chic and the roll did all three drawers with a tiny bit left over. And, it was only $3. You can check it out here. I will probably end up grabbing another roll.

I really love the way this came out. I was hesitant about the orange. Even though it's in my logo (and I requested it), it's not a color I would ever consider painting furniture. But I'm so glad I did! I'm going to do another table for the window display. I still haven't found one I like yet. But when I do, it will be white scuffed away to show the orange (the opposite of this). I kind of can't wait.

SWW: Spare Bedroom

2011-07-20T12:02:00.001-05:00

While I can't actually do much with the other bedroom, I have been collecting pieces. Since I'm not working, I'm really forced to do this 'on the cheap.'

Tall lamp-free and repainted
Round lamp- $10 Target, repainted
Lampshades- $3.24/each Target sale
Mirror-$4 and repainted
Picture-$5 (painted myself)

I even managed to throw a little paint on the wall.
Behr paint "Dove" $24 (will probably need a second gallon)

Bedspread from Target. $18
(This time of year is great to buy cheap bedding, right before school starts)

Will be pillows. Yes, I have a sewing machine. Be afraid. I am
Material $10, Garden Ridge

Weeks and days

2011-07-19T08:41:00.001-05:00

This past week has been both fast and slow. Days crawl by at a snails pace, but when afternoon hits, the previous morning felt like it was weeks ago.
I have a lot of balls in the air. During all of the bakery madness, I've decided that I must complete the back bedroom. Unfortunately that is currently being used as the bakery staging room. So it's a disaster. A pile of glass and bowls and mirrors as well as pillows, sewing machines (yes, plural) and lamps.
On Saturday, Kyle, one of my oldest friends came over and photographed a bunch of sweets. I'm going to blow the images up and use them as art work in the bakery.
Here's a dummy cake I made. I will use it both as a display in the bakery and it was also photographed. (obviously, Kyle's pictures are much better than this.)

Call me a goober, but I love 'behind the scenes' photos. They're so fun. Plus you get an idea of how everything isn't exactly what you see in the finished photo.

Do you like my sweet little coffee cart? I finished it last week. I love the color. There were moments when I thought, 'Orange? Really?' But I love it, it turned out perfect. And you can't see, but the top knobs are pink ceramic. Love. (I'll go through the full rehab later this week.)

Another shot set up. This is the infamous chocolate raspberry cake. The first time I made this was for my birthday last year. People still tell me it's the best cake they've ever had. And while I might be a bit biased, I totally agree.

The leftovers.

A rainbow cake. The chocolate raspberry. Snickerdoodle cake. Cupcakes. Cookies. Brownies. Yum. All of these items will be on my menu.

And, in prep for the bakery, I've bought a lot of clear glassware to hold all of my goodies. Admittedly, it feels like I've bought a few too many.

But, I'm going to have a variety of treats and well, I'm a sucker for clear glass. My dealer for this addiction? T J Maxx. That place has a great selection and crazy cheap prices. I think the most expensive item was the apothecary jar one on the left at $14. The rest were around $9.99. (And if you really want a selection, make your way to Conway where it's also a Home Good's store.)

I'm off to go make a baby shower cake, some cookies for this week's Tweetup and some Star Wars cookies (!) I'm really excited about those. And, since my nephew's birthday is this week, he also wants Star Wars. I'm thinking a giant Darth helmet for his cake.

SWW: More Bakery

2011-07-13T08:38:00.001-05:00

Yesterday we drove three hours (and three hours back) to Springdale to pick up this guy. While waiting, I kept warning Brad 'this will be a big mixer.' Seeing as he didn't believe me with the oven.
So when the guy came out with this:

Even I was taken back by the size. It's huge. Bigger than I thought, and older. Older meaning it's a SOLID CAST IRON model.

We're lovingly referring to it as 'The Tank.'

In softer news, I'm currently painting this (table for coffee):

This color:

It's from my logo. (I'll post more about the table later)

Speaking of logo. Want to see it?

Thought you would.

Everything and a bag of chips

2011-07-11T07:53:00.001-05:00

When I worked retail, I was bad about starting several projects and finishing them at varying rates. On any given day you could walk into my store and find a wall torn down, half rebuilt, a stack of shirts that I was tagging to go out, a drawn with the contents strewn everywhere in hopes that I would 'organize it' as well as something in the back of the store like last nights receipts.
When I started writing, I did the same thing, except it became my desktop littered with opened word document. Some had copy, some just had a few notes, while several others just had my header, so that I would 'eventually get started.'
Now that I'm at home, it's gotten worse. Yesterday I sewed a pillow, painted a picture for the [new] spare bedroom wall, baked a loaf of bread, worked on my book and brought home a table that needs to be sanded, primed and painted for my bakery.

The room will be yellow, grey and black.

Needless to say, I gave up on the fourth side of the pillow until I try to use a different sewing machine. I'm having problems and I don't know if it's a user error or the thirty year old sewing machine I'm trying to figure out (sans-manual). I did manage to complete a roman shade for the laundry room. (But it's sitting on the dryer, I didn't exactly install it yet.)
The cinnamon raisin bread came out yummy, if not a tiny bit overinflated. And, can I say, golden raisins are far more scrumptious than regular raisins?
The book continues to chug along at the rate of a paragraph per day. But, according to a story I watched on 60 minutes yesterday, it's not my fault. It's the internet's fault. It's broken our attention span down so much that we can't focus on large projects. Or at least I think that's what it said, I stopped listening.
My bakery colors are shades of white, pink and orange. And since the walls will be light pink and several of the accessories are darker pink, I should probably paint this table orange. (A pale sherbet kind of orange, not halloween orange) but I kind of want to paint it turquoise! But that's not part of my color palate, so orange it is.

Table to be rehabbed. Better photos to come.

Today's tasks:
Pick the bag worms off my tree. Those bastards are killing it and frankly, I don't need any help killing my shrubbery, thankyouverymuch. Then, a trip to Home Depot to pick up orange paint for the table and gray paint for the walls of the spare bedroom. Yes, despite the whole 'not making any money at the moment therefore we shouldn't spend money' thing, I have a suspicion that we might be selling our house very soon. We tend to do these kinds of giant things on whims and we need the last room complete. Then I need to start baking. Come Saturday, a friend of mine will be in town and will photograph a bunch of my sweets! This will be used for my webpage, in-store photography and stuff like that. So I need to bake a few cakes, brownies, cupcakes, cookies and maybe a cheesecake, so that I have a variety of items ready to go. Oh, and macarons. They're just too cute to leave out. I'm really excited about this. And will probably spend way too much time prepping for it this week.

Not an example of my friends awesome photography. This is my lame photography.

So, have you seen any really cool food photography that we should try to emulate? I'm thinking it's going to be more scene-oriented. (If that's a thing) Some might be set up like the cupcakes are in the process of being decorated, with a spill of sprinkles and a piping bag of icing placed nearby. I plan on photographing the rainbow cake with a big slice taken out of it, showing all the pretty layers with the rest of the cake in the background. Stuff like that.
OH! And I forgot the big thing. I won an online auction for a mixer. It's odd in that it's a very old mixer (like way old), but bakeries and pizza places still use them. They're built like tanks. Regardless, I got one that says it works (fingers crossed, it's a gamble.) but instead of the $8,000 that they can cost, I got mine for $130. Yes. $130. I have to buy a bowl and the attachment, (which, I've already found locally for $150) so, total investment, less than $300 for a 30 quart mixer. But, that means I have to drive to northwest Arkansas to go pick it up. Tomorrow. Looks like that collection in the garage is going to be growing.

Lately

2011-07-05T08:16:00.000-05:00

I've been a crazy cake-baking lady lately.

From a cute Cat in the Hat cake,

To clown shoes for a friend,

To a race car...

That lights up! I've been busy.

There have been matching car cookies,

And kites for Thing #1 and Thing #2 to match the cake,

There have even been Samurai Power Ranger cupcakes!

On the bakery front, things are moving forward. I think I'm getting my location. I want it to be official before I start announcing it. So as soon as I hear something, I will let you guys know. And when I do, I'll show you the logo, too! My house is slowly piling up with bakery related items. There are cloche jars in the spare bedroom, the pool table is covered in glass jars, little shelves and far too many paper straws. And in the garage? With my new car? A commercial oven.

What, you don't keep a giant oven in your garage? I thought everyone did.
The doors are taped up because we had to remove the handles to get it out of the back of the restaurant where it was being kept.
I kept telling Brad it was 'big.' He kept asking why I couldn't just use a regular oven. And I would say, "No, this is bigger than a regular oven. It's like five feet tall or something." And I don't think he ever really 'got' how big it was, until he was standing in front of it asking me how the hell we were supposed to move it.
:)
I won't go into the full details of how we [meaning he and the nice guy selling it to me] drug it to a back door and then how his truck couldn't get straight at the door because the alley was too narrow, and that they [now 4 guys] ended up pushing the [500 lb] oven across three boards into the truck. And that we had to drive with it [taller than the truck] for almost 70 miles. Truckers were passing us angrily.

Regardless, it was quite eventful but saved me over $1,000 on this [very slightly] used oven. So, I'm happy.

Bradversations

2011-06-28T06:45:00.008-05:00

I bought a new car.

This is the car I used to have: I loved it. I still love it. I'm quite sad to see it go.

But, this is the car I bought. While I've already caught a bit of flack over it from some people, I think the person most upset by the purchase was Brad.

Upon taking this photo, (and then waiting for the guy to bring it back full of gas) I said, "Yeah! My new car!"

Brad said, "I can't believe we just bought that."

Later getting out of it at Walmart, I said, "It's so little in the parking space!"

Brad said, "I'm so embarrassed to even get out of that thing. Also, I'm never driving it without you."

Alot

2011-06-27T13:45:00.000-05:00

Do you read Hyperbole and a Half? Have you? You should. But not right now, if you left my blog right now to go read hers, you would never come back. Because her blog rocks.
For instance, she wrote this post about the phrase 'a lot' and how people tend to stick it together as 'alot.' So she created a creature called the Alot.
I've been pretty busy lately. Well, busy and not busy. I think half the time when I'm not actually doing anything, I'm worrying about stuff I should be doing or what I will be doing eventually. My brain, I can't turn it off.
So, with that in mind, paired with the Alot, I've begun to visualize this Alot monster following me around. So far, the only place I've been able to escape him is in the shower. But, I feel like he stands out there, tapping his foot, waiting on me to finish. He even whistles a little tune while he's waiting. He's extremely patient like that.
At night, when I'm trying to sleep, he sits on my chest. That little bastard is heavy. During the day, he plays with the pups. I think he's the one who has them convinced they can have as many treats as they want. He's also really good at convincing me I don't have to do my dishes. Brad does not like this. Not at all.
But, in all honestly, I think I like having the Alot monster around. If it weren't for him, I would veg out in front of the television all day. And frankly, that just sounds boring. So, Mr. Alot monster and I are stuck together. For now at least. And, at the moment, he's taking me on a lovely tour of grease interceptors (AKA grease trap). I am at this very moment hyperventilating into a paper bag over how much these bastards cost. How much? Too much. So much so that the first thing I want to do after purchasing one is dumping an entire container of crisco down the drain. And not the regular container, the big 8 pounder I bought at Sams earlier. But I wont. Because as a proud owner of a grease trap, I have to have it inspected and cleaned and junk like that.

SWW: Bakery

2011-06-22T13:27:00.000-05:00

While I know the whole 'keep calm' thing has probably passed. I could not leave this in the store. (And then paint it my awesome bright pink. Someone take my spray paint away, please?)

These are the bell jars [or cloche jars] that will cover all my treats. While they were expensive, they were not as expensive as they could be, nor do they cost as much as full bakery display cases. Plus, this will be way cuter.

So, you know, win/win.

I can't sleep

2011-06-20T22:16:00.000-05:00

I can't sleep right now. And sadly, it's still early to even be complaining about not sleeping. There are people who won't even be attempting to go to sleep for hours. And yet, I've already tried and failed for the night.
This was never a problem for me in the past. Frustration, sure. But sleeplessness? No way. When some people get stressed, they can't eat. I don't have that problem either. Actually, I have the opposite. I'm an emotional eater, though and through. And that's never really been a problem either.
And yet lately, I can't sleep. And the pounds? They're sticking around. Which, of course both lead to more stress, the source of all of this. It's a vicious cycle.
So rather than fighting it, I'm here, prattling on about nothing.
Things are slowly moving forward with the bakery. Emphasis on slowly. I've got a ton of support, which is really, really great. And I've got tons of people willing to help me. Unfortunately, I can't do everything by myself, but that doesn't stop me from trying. It's a nasty habit I have. I have to let people help.
Today, I broke down and used all the tools in our garage by myself. I made two different cake stands. One for a specific cake (more about it later). And another generic cake stand for display in the bakery. I want to have a really cool display in the window and I want to change it out seasonally. So, I need [in my eyes] a variety of cake stands. And since I can't find everything exactly like I want, I'm making some. Regardless, it was a huge accomplishment for me to use the miter saw and not squeal or dance around on my tiptoes like a six year old who just spotted a spider.
I'm telling you, big, big progress.
And, I'll post about that one too.
But, for now, I'm looking up information on the health department and probably writing the copy for my website. I figure, I'm in the mood to write, so I might as well put it to good use.
Sorry if this was terribly boring.
:)

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-15T08:22:00.000-05:00

I may not have a location for my bakery yet,

but I do have this sweet pink mirror to go on the wall once I do.

(Krylon spray paint in Watermelon)

Bradversations

2011-06-13T08:23:00.000-05:00

I have a frame that holds multiple pictures from our wedding six years ago. It has been at work with me for the past three and a half years. When I brought it home, Brad had forgotten that it existed. So when he came in and saw it, he picked it up, inspected it and had this to say:

"Wow. I had more hair and you've definitely gotten fat! I mean - put on more weight."

"Seriously?" I ask.

"What? Just from the neck down."

Because that made it all better.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-06-08T07:37:00.000-05:00

Lately, I've been busy.

Brad can't wait until our kitchen is no longer covered in sugar.

And I can't either.

Laundry

2011-06-07T08:32:00.001-05:00

We're running out of rooms in the house that need work. The laundry room is one that Brad has been trying to finish for a while. I was in a state of 'not there yet.' On certain creative type things, I find that I'm not always ready to just jump head long into them. I'm just not ready. The ideas aren't solid. The motivation not there.
But finally, I broke down and we started working. Our laundry room is "L" shaped, with the shorter part of the L going under the stairs to the bonus room (another room that needs work). When we had the floor plans drawn out, we didn't give the laundry room much thought. The guy drew the washer and dryer on the long wall in the middle under the window. Good enough, right?
No. Not right, terrible. Awful placement. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
But it's far too late to do anything about that. But next time? I will think long and hard about how the laundry room will be laid out.
Brad's mom had some old '70s wicker front storage boxes that stacked together in her garage that she didn't want anymore. We snagged them and ripped off the terrible doors, leaving us with solid wood boxes.

There were six total, so we stacked them three high and made two cabinet and set them into the corners.

Using luan and pine, we made four doors. We wanted them to be light (hence the luan), but we wanted the doors to have structure, the pine provided that. Brad and I both like the simple look of these framed doors.

We went back and forth over what to do with the empty space between the cabinets. Leave it open? Put a small bar in there to hang clothes? We ended up placing shelves that originally went inside the boxes, just cut down to fit.

On the other side of the room, we used a left over cabinet that was originally purchased for the master bathroom. (Once we got them painted, we decided we wanted something nicer in there so one cabinet is in the garage for storage, this is the other one.)
We built an extension to create a cubby for the trash can and supports to hold the tile counter top.

We had some of the 13 inch tiles left over from our shower (they also match the 24 inch floor tiles) so we used that for the countertop.

We also topped this area with two open shelves. The same style we used in the guest bedroom.

Back on the other side, we topped the cabinets with a piece of wood and a leftover piece of crown molding. The whole thing got a coat of our signature antique white paint.

Baskets from Garden Ridge helped pull everything together. Usually, I'm not a huge fan of red. Everything else in our house is some shade of blue. But when I saw the baskets, I decided that a pop of red just might be what the laundry room needed.
Except, it still felt a bit blah. So I suggested a stripe. Brad was on board. Then I suggested two stripes. He was still on board.

The last time we did stripes (also in guest bedroom), we tried the glaze trick to keep the stripes from seeping under the tape. It did not work. A commenter suggested painting the wall color over the tape then the stripe color. Bingo! It totally worked. So if you ever stripe, you must, must, must do that!

Since so much of this room was things we already had (the boxes from his mom, the left over cabinet from the bathroom, my 'paintings' from my office at work, the crown molding) we didn't spend a ton, roughly $150. This was the cost of the doors, the shelves, paint for the stripes and mastic for the tile.)

I've also got a piece of fabric I grabbed at Garden Ridge (hello, $5 for 3 yards?) that matches the red perfectly. At some point, I'm going to attempt to make a Roman shade for the window. Fingers crossed, because I don't really sew.

Bradversations

2011-05-31T08:24:00.000-05:00

Since I've been away from work, I've been doing other things. Like cleaning around the house. Shocked? I am. And apparently, so is Brad. He walked into the living room and asked, "Did you accidentally dust in the bed room?"

And, just in case you ever wondered if I'm making this stuff up:

I was not, in fact, trying to get a loan on his truck. I was renewing the tags on it for him. Also, if you haven't watched Repo Games on Spike TV, you're missing out on the opportunity to feel like the smartest person alive.

More and more

2011-05-27T15:12:00.000-05:00

So, initially, I wasn't going to announce anything about what I was up to. Not because I want to 'surprise' anyone, nor do I feel that someone will swoop in and take my ideas or anything crazy like that. But because sometimes I feel like a four-year old kid standing in their underwear using a hair brush for a microphone who has proudly announced that they are going to be a rock star. In other words, stupid.
Regardless, here's what I'm up to. A bakery.

Yes (I know you're all super surprised) I know it's obvious. I've picked a name. I think it's cute. I've reserved my twitter account and purchased a URL. I've mentally written stickers for the pink boxes I've already picked out. (So, you know all the important stuff.)
But, the big thing, the first step, I'm running into some problems with.
Location.
And as we all know, location, location, location. Where the hell am I going to plop this bakery?
My favorite location in midtown near the new Target is actually available and there's a perfect sized spot for a little bakery. But the lease amount? Um, it's a bit high. Not out of the realm high, but high. You guys don't mind paying $10 for a cupcake, right?
No? OK moving along.
Another really great place that I love in West Little Rock that has great access to the interstate and near a kids day care, [hello!] um, I called about it today and it's involved in an FBI investigation and won't be available for several years.
I am not making this up.
I'm pretty much fresh out of new construction locations. And that's fine, really. For what we are able to risk monetarily, those were a bit out of reach. So, what I need is a space, probably around 1,500 square feet that can have a retail front and space in the back for an oven, walk in fridge, and lots of counter space. So, anyone know of a location available?

Big thinks

2011-05-26T10:39:00.000-05:00

I originally meant to title this post "Big things," but a slip of the finger resulted in "Big thinks." And really, that might be a more apt description for what's going on right now, so I'm letting it stay.
It's been a week since I walked into the unemployment office and filed for unemployment insurance. It was not what I expected. What I thought I would see were troves of sad people, destitute and seeking refuge. Instead, I saw a guy a few years older than myself from high school. We did not catch up. I just felt any conversation that started, "Hey! Didn't we go to school together? I lost my job too!" would be too strange. Also, he left shortly after I got there, leaving me alone with the other person filling out paperwork and the police officers who I think were snickering at my iPad.
Yes, I brought an iPad to the unemployment office. I thought there would be a line and I have a new book on there I'd like to read. (sue me) It's not like I bought it after I got canned. I've had it a while.
Anyway, despite the initial shock revolving around the past week, I've adjusted to everything fairly well. Better than I thought I ever would given the situation.
I have some big plans. Some really big plans. And I'm excited. I'm also a bit scared to announce anything formally here, but I've hinted at it on Twitter. There's a lot that Brad and I are thinking about now. But he's completely supportive and that has made all the difference.
Regardless, if this week is any indication of what's to come, I know that I will be OK. But for now, I'm going to go have lunch with a friend. And then I'm going to do what I do.

Scarlet Letter

2011-05-24T08:03:00.000-05:00

On Saturday, a friend stopped by the house. I ran my hands though my short hair as I opened the door. Looking down, I surveyed my dirty T-shirt and sweat pants. She greeted me from the driveway, "Hi!"
I replied back quickly, "Do I look unemployed? I feel like I look unemployed."
She laughed as friends are wont to do. "You're fine." She added, referencing her own sweats from a race earlier that day.
I tried to laugh it off, but it's hard. While I've been in this position before, it was slightly more empowering in that it was done by my own hand. Right now I feel a bit shaken. Lost and confused. While I am in no way scared of what the future holds, I wish I could peek at it, if even just for a second.
Monday morning found me grocery shopping earlier than necessary. I walked the aisles, pushing a cart pondering those around me. Why aren't they at jobs on a Monday morning? What do they do with their lives that allows them such freedom? I considered stopping them and asking. But was scared that they would see the scarlet U on my chest and I would immediately be shunned.
For much of my life, I have known exactly what I want to do, and up until last week, I was doing it. I don't know the exact statistic, but most people do not use their degrees. I was one of the few. And while that doesn't mean I'm any more special than someone who didn't, it just meant that I've known where I wanted to go for a really long time.
Often, people cite mommies as having lost their identity, overcome by the poopy diapers and T ball practices, they are shells of themselves, absorbed by the needs of their children.
We're not that dissimilar, me and them. Where they throw themselves into their children's lives, letting the moniker 'so and so's mom' take the place of their name, I did the same with my career. I was a writer dammit. That was who I was. And while technically, I still am, I feel as if I've lost a sense of self along the way. I'm questioning me.
And frankly, I really don't like that.

Contemplating Luck

2011-05-22T19:56:00.000-05:00

I don't know that I've ever considered myself to be lucky. Once while bowling, a bowler in the next lane hit one of their pins into my lane, blocking any possibility of a spare. My ball managed to hit that pin, shoot it back into their lane, knocking down their remaining pin. Then my ball ricocheted and picked up my own spare. If it had been caught on video, it would surely have over a million views on YouTube.
I do not attribute that to skill.
Nor do I think it's luck.
If anything, it's dumb luck.
When I worked at The Buckle (years and years ago) we had a lost and found drawer. Eventually if things were not claimed, the employees 'found' them. I happened to come into a very nice pair of Maui Jim sunglasses. I didn't even realize how expensive they were for a while. I kept those sunglasses for a long time. They stayed with me through thick and thin. I have quite an obsession with sun glasses and this particular pair shot to the top of my collection, becoming my go-to shades.
A year or so after, I went to Georgia to visit family. The day before we left, we played putt-putt in a section of a local park. At some point while getting humiliated by the four year old prodigy in front of me, I lost those glasses. I didn't discover it until it was time to leave.
I was devastated to say the least.
But I didn't give up hope. I called around to numerous departments of the Georgia park system and, they had been found. I coaxed the park ranger to drop them in the mail for me. The prodigal glasses returned.
Less than a year later, work took me to Oklahoma to help open a new store. Of course my sunglasses went with me. And, despite loving them so, I still managed to leave them in yet another state.
Upon discovering this, I called the store and had them look, they couldn't find them. I called again. And they were found in the back of a top locker. The prodigal glasses returned again.
Some might think that I am lucky. Some might think that those damn sunglasses were cursed, never meant to have a single owner. Lord knows if I even acquired them from their first owner or if they were the third owners visiting from some other unknown state.
But I tend to think that rather than luck, I've been blessed with persistence. That rather than letting things happen to me, I go out and make them happen.
And the sunglasses? I still have them somewhere. But they broke.
See, I told you I wasn't lucky.

Thoughts

2011-05-20T09:13:00.001-05:00

I've spent the past day debating how I wanted to handle this post. I started this blog three and a half years ago to deal with a difficult situation. My MIL had moved in with us and was battling stage IV cancer. I had just gone through what I thought was the most difficult year of my life. It wasn't. I'm sure there will be more to come that will be worse. That's what life is.
And like the growing pains of my adolescence, this is something that will be uncomfortable until I get used to it and then, it will be a blip in my rearview. I don't remember the pain associated with growing nine inches in roughly 18 months, but the growth was obvious and it was mine.
So, I will continue this blog in the spirit it was started. Except now, my travels are no longer that of a writer at an agency, but that of a recently unemployed writer finding a new way.
I have opportunities and lets face it, at the rate I was going, it would have taken another year to finish my book. So suddenly I've been given the gift of time. And Brad and I are in places in our lives where this is but a bump in the road. We have savings. I have a number of opportunities, from writing (whether a book or in advertising to using my MBA in another career. And as always, the thought of a bakery nags at the back of my mind. We watched Bridesmaids last weekend and I couldn't help but relate to her struggles with the bakery. It's a siren song that calls me back. Sometimes I'm at my happiest when I'm standing in front of a beautiful piece of art that is also edible. But at the same time, it can be maddening when it's not working right.
So, this is me, on a new journey I hope that you stick around for it. It could be... interesting.

The Rainbow Cake

2011-05-18T09:23:00.001-05:00

I've been dying to make a rainbow cake. But I've never had a good reason to. Typically the cakes I'm asked to do are focused on something else-a birthday theme, a character, or the recipient just feels 'too old' for a rainbow cake.

But last week Kerri asked me to make a simple Thank You cake for some ladies at church that would be served to the kids in daycare.
Bingo.

I started with a double batch of cake batter and divided it equally among six bowls. I've seen other pictures where cakes like this are done with a fade (light to dark pink) or two alternating colors. So mix as many colors as you want.

I used whatever colors I had on hand (I have a lot, don't get me wrong) but some of the Wilton colors have been hanging around for a while. Honestly, I prefer the AmeriColor gels soooo much more. They are easier to work with (no digging it out with a toothpick) and the colors are great. The electric pink is my absolute fav.

I mixed the colors in. The cakes will bake the colors that you see. So if you want an intense red, add a lot of red. It's not going to get darker or lighter. WYSIWYG.

Once baked, level the cakes and start stacking! I really wanted to just leave the cake like this. So pretty! But where's the fun or surprise in that?
At this point Brad wanted to know if the layers were fruit flavored. He really wanted the cake to taste like Trix. It did not. BUT, it could have. A small amount of extract (or even juice) could have flavored these layers cherry, orange, lemon, lime, [blueberry?] and grape.

I covered it all in icing and topped it with colored jimmies. I liked the tiny hint of what was to come!

I could have left it just like that, but it was a thank you cake after all. So I wrote little happys all over it.

According to Kerri, it was a hit. She said there was a piece left over and she said it could be thrown away. Another mom yelled, "NO! I mean, we'll take it home."

I took the left over cake and made colored cake pops. I didn't eat one myself and when I gave one to Brad to bite into so I could grab a photo, he shoved the whole thing in his mouth. I guess he liked it.

Notes about this cake. The layers were almost exactly what I needed to make six cakes. There wasn't much room for error. I had enough cake left over to make 12 cake pops. That's it. I use a cake saw to make sure my cakes are level and exactly the same. I recommend it always. This is a tall cake. Technically it's three 'normal' cakes tall. It can get cumbersome on an 8 inch cake. So be careful. If the cake got much taller, it would have needed internal support to keep it steady (IMHO) which would have taken away from the layers. Since there are so many layers and colors, it's OK if the layers are on the thin side. Mine were around 3/4 of an inch tall.

Bradversations

2011-05-16T06:21:00.004-05:00

After returning home one Saturday afternoon:

Brad: Bad news, I think we need a new washing machine.

Me: What? Why?

Brad: I was sitting here watching TV, eating a sandwich when it started making a terrible noise. I jumped up and ran to turn it off. It had moved several feet from the wall. It still works, but it's really loud.

Me: Isn't that thing less than two years old?

Brad: Yes. But it gets worse.

Me: ?

Brad: Phoebe ate my sandwich.

Bradversations

2011-05-09T13:02:00.000-05:00

I'm convinced that the conversations with my husband are hilarious. So much so that I plan on subjecting you to them on a regular basis.

I should note that after about three meals of me placing asparagus on Brad's plate and him not eating it, he finally agreed to try it.

Brad: Fine. I'll try the asparagus, but you have to take a sip of my ginger ale.

Me: Fine. [takes a drink] It tastes like 7-up.

Brad: [takes bite of asparagus] Oh, this is good.

Me: [facepalm] Of course it is. Just don't smell your pee.

Brad: What?

Me: Nothing.

A week later.

Brad: This asparagus tastes funny. What did you do to it?

Me: Nothing. These are green beans.

I think I need to feed my husband more vegetables.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-05-04T11:13:00.000-05:00

The general consensus is that I did not charge enough for this cake.

Also, rice krispie pillars can be a bitch.

What makes women crazy?

2011-05-03T10:14:00.000-05:00

According to Marie Claire, (which I found by way of The Hairpin) we women are crazy, but, we have these 'great' excuses as to what makes us crazy. The writer, a man, thinks that this writing proves how crazy we are.
Au contrair, I think he hit the nail on the head. According to him, women are crazy because of the following things:
Hunger
Tiredness
PMS
Nothing to wear
Birthdays

According to him, we act crazy and then we blame one of the above things.
Let's see, hunger? Oh definitely. Actually, I have a scale of hunger-related craziness. With 1 being 'not quite hungry' which is paired with slight snarkiness all the way to a 10, which is full on tummy rumble paired with crying. Yes, if I get that hungry, I will cry. I usually don't let it get that bad. Actually, the last time it was that bad, was because I took my lunch break three hours late. I was STARVING. Know what I did?
Quit my job.
Yep. I went on lunch break and never came back. Now, I'm not directly attributing the quitting of the job to the lack of food, but it didn't really help the cause either.

Tired? You can just ask Brad about that one. There's physical tired and mental tired. While one will leave me laying like a lump on the couch, the other will also leave me a lump on the couch, but with tears.

PMS. I have no idea what you're talking about. Ladies are a ray of sunshine, from morning to night! Hormonal imbalance? Never! Ever!
Ever!

Nothing to wear? Brad wont even listen to that one anymore. He calls bullshit. Once he might have threatened to punch me for saying it. Guys do not understand. While Brad would be content to wear his black athletic shorts with the gray stripe, topped by a six year old blue ringer tee with brown flip-flops all day, every day, I can not. Clothes are too important. I must match the weather. I must match my mood, both in color and style. Lately I've been feeling more laid back and have worn jeans to work every day. Last week, I ran out of jeans. I was frustrated. It's not that we have 'nothing' to wear, it's that we have nothing appropriate to wear.
When women go to pick out clothes, there is a complicated venn diagram in our head that we create to pick the perfect outfit. And sometimes, when all the circles are laid down, the resulting intersection is something that I don't own. Therefore, I have nothing to wear.
Why can't men understand this?
Is it really that complicated?
I don't think so.

Birthdays. Let's see. First it's a party, which as you know, adds another layer to the clothing venn diagram, so there's that. Then you have the whole 'I'm another year older and staring down the barrel of crows feet and gray hair.' Men? They get distinguished. Women? We just get old. And sad. wrinkled. (Or at least that's how it feels when they're lighting all those candles.) So, yes, birthday's are no fun. I already feel pressure to stop revealing my age to people, lest they use it to draw some kind of conclusion about me.

Excuses? These are not excuses. These are valid reasons for our collective neurosis. I would also like to add:
the weather
day of the week
time of day
how incorrect my food is at a restaurant
traffic
and stress

So, what say you? What makes you absolutely (but justifiably) crazy?

Sometimes, we're special

2011-04-29T08:02:00.000-05:00

Since we've had tons of rain lately, Brad has been concerned with the gutters. The back of our house is long (around 70 feet) and we have a total of 3 down spouts. He thinks we need another one. Our master bedroom sticks out past the rest of the house, creating an "L" shape where our deck sits. He wants to put one right in that corner. The water tends to come down faster than it can get out of the way and he's concerned about the doorway from our room rotting out. We've put down a door guard thing (A metal piece that curves out and protects the threshold of the door. And we've put up the pergola, but the door still needs a bit more protection from the water.

So last night we ran to Home Depot to grab the items for another downspout. We bought the 12 foot section of piping, brackets to hold it on, two "L" pieces to bend down from the gutter and another for the bottom. We grabbed screws and a few other things.

When we got out to the truck, Brad was a bit concerned about the length. He has a Toyota Tundra with a second row of seats, so the bed of his truck is a little small. I suggested that we take the pipe and set it down against the gate of the bed and then angle it up over the top of the truck so that it wouldn't stick out the back and potentially hit something. Brad agreed and we strapped it in with a bungee and used a piece of board to hold the end down. And since it was getting a little late, we grabbed some take out. He was concerned that it was too tall to go through the drive-thru so we went to Sonic, the whole time worried about it.
The rest of the drive home, I watched it over my shoulder to make sure that it didn't try to blow away or anything else crazy.
We made it home with the pipe in one piece.
Of course, that is, until Brad, deep in conversation drives into the garage without a thought to the pipe and it crumbles like a soda can against the bricks over our garage door.

So today, Brad gets to go pick up another piece of piping. Here's to hoping this one makes it home and up in one piece.

What about you? Have you ever done anything that made you feel special?

The good bad news

2011-04-26T12:34:00.000-05:00

After a series of unfortunate tests, my doctor has declared that there is no specific medical reason for my pain.
The good news:
The esophagogastroduedenoscopy (EDG), colonoscopy, samples, ultrasound, blood tests and CT scan all came back negative. Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Everything inside me is squeaky clean and all in working order.

The bad news:
I still have pain. And I spent around $800 to find out that there's 'nothing' wrong with me. (And I know that the bills aren't done. I still haven't paid for the CT scan. Who knows how much that will cost me.)

I'm not angry with my doctor or anything like that, I think he's done a thorough job of looking for the problem. And, as a solution, I have a pill that I have to melt under my tongue three times a day. I've been doing this for almost a week now and it has helped some. As best he could diagnose, I am suffering from 'stress.'

Here's my question, who isn't suffering from stress?
Work? Stress. (Major stress for me)
Home? Stress. (not in a bad way, just in a juggling things making sure everything gets done.)
Family? Do I even need to recount? Stress. Stress. Stress. Brad wants me to go on a 30 day separation from my family. No contact whatsoever.

And the thing is, I know it could be worse. It could be way, way worse. Hell, they could have found something. And then what? A battle? At least I would have had some kind of adversary to fight. But now, there is nothing. A nameless, faceless nothing in the pit of my stomach destroying my sleep, turning daily events into a challenge. I don't really know what to do with a diagnosis of 'calm the fuck down*.'

I seriously feel that I am incapable of calming down. Zen is not in my vocabulary. Not Caring is not something I can do. I was a serious child, with serious responsibilities – my personality has been etched in stone since I was twelve. I don't know how to change. But if I don't? Somethings going to slip.

*my words, not the docs.

Decisions decisions

2011-04-19T08:40:00.000-05:00

In another life, I worked in a bakery. It wasn't my bakery, but I wandered in shortly after they opened. It was started by two friends. One was the business end, one was the decorator. They made birthday cakes and wedding cakes. There was a case filled with frozen, fresh baked cookies and a dessert called Cake Dippers (more commonly known as cake pops by Bakerella). It was an interesting use of leftover cake and chocolate. Yum. I worked there for probably 8 months of Fridays and Saturdays and whenever else they needed me. I also got certified as a Wilton instructor and taught others how to make and decorate cakes.
And then, one day, I finally landed the job I have now. I stuck around and helped out whenever they needed.
There were days, weeks at the bakery that I came home, my feet hurting from standing for 12 hours. My right hand cramped into a claw from piping teeny tiny detail on wedding cakes. My shoulders hurt and my hair always held the faint sweet smell of powdered sugar.
I was right there, in the thick of it. We tried the gourmet cupcake route (even before Cupcakes on Kavanaugh was around). I made up flavor combinations: layered ice cream sunday cupcakes, Almond Happiness, Lemon Bliss, Chocolate Overload. You name it, we tried it.
It was fun. But it wasn't mine. And when it was finally over. I felt like I had tried. Like that part of me was done. That I didn't need to bake or own a bakery anymore. I closed the books on my dream bakery where there was a cute black and white checkered floor with tiny rod iron tables and chairs for two scattered around. Where I would have a fancy coffee machine and serve espresso with cupcakes on the most adorable plates I can find.
And yet, some days, I sit at my desk and think about cookies. I wonder how many cookies I would have to sell to equal my salary now. (For the record, it's a really high number.) Do I want to do cakes anymore? I'm kind of obsessed with tiny treats. Bars. Cookies. Cupcakes. Mini Cakes. Tiny bunt cakes with chocolate glaze and candied orange sprinkled on top. Cheesecakes with flowery swirls. And piles and piles of whipped cream on everything.
Except I've been down that path. I watched as the bakery closed. I saw two friends ripped apart, a business close and witnessed first-hand the cost – both emotionally and financially of owning ones own business.
And yet.
I wonder.

Vacation

2011-04-18T10:13:00.000-05:00

Last week, Brad and I went with another couple on a small vacation. I call it such because we didn't leave the country. (Not that we frequent 'fancy' locals, but usually we hit the beach in Mexico).

Instead, our friends were invited to use a beach house in Hilton Head, South Carolina and we were invited to tag along.

It was a nice trip. I probably should have put the phone down and stayed away from my email more than I did, but I have no self control. If it's there and I can just hit 'refresh,' I will. I probably should have just left the phone at home and enjoyed the sights.

But, if I had, I wouldn't have been able to take fun photos on my iPhone and then run them through instragram and pretend that the photos are much better than they actually are.

Eh.

I'm addicted to instagram too, go figure. Photography and singing are two talents I don't have but wish I did. This app lets me pretend.

We stayed in the Sea Pines neighborhood of Hilton Head. We strolled around the bay and checked out the lighthouse.

We found a star fish and rescued it. Or I assume it was a rescue mission. It was crawling through the sand (yes, crawling) when I found it. I put it back in the water. Good deed done.

We laid in the sun (hidden behind a dune because that wind was in-sane.)

We dodged jellyfish on our walk.

We played with the sea gulls. (It's OK to feed them, right?) (Also, it's OK to throw bread crumbs near your friend and snicker uncontrollably while they swoop around her, while she naps, none the wiser? Right?)

We played putt-putt. How pretty is this little shot off the 4th hole?

We marveled at the moss in the trees. Trees that canopied over everything, creating the eeriest, most beautiful scenes around.

We also taunted the wildlife. Just a little.

I wouldn't recommend it.

Overall, it was nice. And I'm already ready to go back.

Six years

2011-04-11T12:32:00.001-05:00

AKA, this might get cheesy and sappy. Forgive me.
Six years ago today, Brad and I were in Jamaica exchanging vows.
We have ahem slightly crazy families, mine more so than his. So we decided that we would get married as far away as possible. Jamaica seemed like a good location.

Brad and I are not traditional people. We [obviously] saw each other the day of the wedding. My dress was off white. Brad did not wear a suit. (But he did wear a $60 tie that I bought him, despite his objections.) I wore a tiara instead of a veil.

Look how young we look!

Our ceremony was set for early afternoon. We had a late breakfast and then I went to the salon to get my hair done. Brad stayed in the room. He got ready and they were supposed to bring a van around for him and take him down an hour or so before me.

This is Jamaica, they are in no hurry down there. The catch phrase for this trip was "No problem mon!" Brad gave up and walked because I threw him out of the room. (It wasn't a far walk.) The van did eventually come, I told them he was gone.

Originally, I wanted to do my own hair. The wedding coordinator there was opposed to this. She made a deal with me that if I used their salon do to my hair, she would help me into my dress.

She was also late.

No problem indeed.

I kept running out of our room and staring down strangers walking by wondering if they would point and laugh at the girl in a giant petticoat slip or if they would help out. Eventually, the woman showed up. We threw the dress over my head and hauled butt to the other side of the resort.

It's not like they could have started without me. But still.

The ceremony was pretty. Mostly because it took place in a lush setting. I enjoyed it. And I managed not to cry. Or at least that's how I remember it. Brad did not make any jokes like claiming to take me only if I promise to do laundry or something like that. I remember that it was the pastors birthday. (So, happy birthday, where ever you are!)

It was a great day. Afterward we celebrated by getting matching sunburns. (I had previously been hiding in the shade to avoid looking like a lobster in my big day.) I wore the tiara all day. I pretended it was because it had become one with my hair via a shit-ton of bobby pins, but really, I wanted to feel special.

Later that night we saw another wedding party, they were surrounded by friends and family. The bride was dancing in her dress. Brad and I were walking by to go to a show. And while their giant party made me a bit forlorn, I was still happy with our decision.

I was recently reminded of the delicate nature of marriage. The way I look at it, it's me and Brad against the world. We've been together now for ten years, and I couldn't have a better partner in crime.

Posing at Dunn's River Falls

Helping Babies- It's a good thing

2011-04-06T09:15:00.000-05:00

I have some great friends. Namely, Heather and Scotty Adams. They are the greatest friends one could ever ask for. Recently, when asked how I knew someone, I had to explain that Scotty is like the center of a bike tire, his relationships radiating out from him like spokes. He knows so many people. And then, somehow, we all come to know each other. He has a huge circle of friends, and I'm so glad to be a part of it.

But this isn't exactly about him. It's about his son, Aiden.

Aiden was born at 24 weeks. Aiden was only a pound and a half at that point. He stayed at Children's Hospital for a while. There are beds that can help the babies have a greater chance of survival, called Giraffe-OMNI Beds. Baptist has some, but not enough to help all the babies that need them. Scotty saw the need and acted. He had an event that he helped spearhead – Craws for Paws. He changed the name of the event to Craws for a Cause and has been filtering the money into the Baptist Foundation fund to buy more beds.

Here is Aiden before getting a Giraffe-OMNI bed

These beds are very expensive- 30 thousand dollars each. His son was transferred to Baptist when a bed became available and it saved his life. Aiden is now 2 1/2 years old and doing well. Scotty directly attributes the survival of his son to the bed and wants to make sure that every premature baby that needs a bed can have one.
So, with that, I invite you to Craws for a Cause. I am a co-chair for the event. I'll be running around helping make sure everything runs smoothly. This year, the event takes place Friday, May 6. Tickets get you access to all the beer, crawfish and fixins (and hot dogs) that you want. There will be live music by Boom Kenetic. You can purchase general admission tickets in advance for $45 or $55 at the door. (I'll warn, last year the event sold out and many were turned away at the gate.) Also, individuals and corporations are encouraged to purchase VIP tables. These tables seat 10 people and cost $1,000. The VIP tables will have volunteers (The Central Arkansas Roller Derby girls) bringing beer and craws, so you don't even have to get up. These tables are positioned near the music and will have a special VIP entrance to avoid the general admission line.
This is a wonderful event– it's tons of fun, the food is great and you can't find a better cause.

As you can see, Aiden is doing well with his big brother, Parker.

This story could easily be one of heartache. Many parents don't have the happy ending that the Adams' got. But, you can help the premature babies of Arkansas. And, you get all the beer you can drink.
Sounds like a win-win to me.

3rd times a charm

2011-04-04T14:08:00.000-05:00

This weekend I made a cake. It's a cake I've made before, based off of a cake that's been made a bajillion times.
It's an engagement cake that features an oversized ring in a box. And since I'm not in the mood for a 'big reveal' and because I want this cake photo to show up as my thumbnail and not the original. Crazy yes? Do I care, not too much.

Here it is in all it's pretty glory.

I'm not going to lie, it didn't start out this way.

OK, it sort of did. The more cakes I do, the better I get. Practice and all.

One of the things I tend to run into is not having enough fondant of a certain color. Since every color is a custom mix for a particular project, I hardly ever use the left over. But really, fondant drapes over a cake better when there's more of it than less. That wasn't exactly a problem this time.

The problem with this cake was the ring. (Now I show you my original)

This ring was done in the fall, so the colors were more fall inspired. (I'm sounding sooo smart right now, I'm fully aware of this. I blame Starbucks having no power. Yes, I will talk about it all day.)
The difference is, this one had a paperweight in the cake for the ring. I love the idea of the bride being able to keep the ring after the cake is long gone. We (meaning I recommended it and the Shower thrower MOH? got it done) had the ring engraved with the couples names. Awww.

For the cake this weekend, I mentioned I could make it out of fondant, instead of the paperweight.
That was the option selected. Confident in myself, I made the ring. Frankly I thought I was pretty damn clever. I used some older [read: hard as a rock] leftover fondant from the predator head cake a few months ago. I warmed it in the microwave to make it pliable and then, took the 'band' part and draped it over a 4 inch springform pan. The 'spring' part helped the pan stand up on its side without rolling around. Then, I baked it in the oven. I read this trick on a blog somewhere recently. But I can't remember the temperature they recommended. Or the time.
Based on what came out of the oven, I was very wrong on my guess of 350 degrees and 10 minutes. The fondant puffed up really thick and smelled like cotton candy. I decided the puffy band would work. I cut it to a perfect half circle, added the top part of the ring and painted it silver.
I was getting ready to go out Saturday night and 'propped' the ring on the cake, thinking it would just stand there, not pushed into the cake.
I was wrong.

It fell while I was in the shower. It did not survive the 4 foot fall to the hard wood floor.
For shame.
I rushed around and made another. I didn't turn the temp as high. I didn't leave it in as long. It did not puff up.
I left it on the springform pan to set overnight.
Fastforward to Sunday. MOH was 45 from showing up. I placed the ring in/on the cake. Curled up not feeling well [read: hungover] I glanced over that the cake.

Son of A!

I made a THIRD ring. Luckily, the top part survived as this ring did not topple off the cake/table, it just imploded upon itself into a tired little heap. A sad, tired little heap.
A pitiful, sad, tired little heap of overworked fondant.
I cranked the oven up high, left it in as long as I could, considering I had already gotten a text that the MOH was en route. Painted (And supported with some wire inside the ring), this one survived.
Thankfully. I was almost completely out of predator head.

The MOH (maid of honor, in case you're wondering) texted me and said that it made the trip. I breathed a sigh of relief.
And? I will never make another ring out of fondant. Not that I can't, just that this cake tapped me out.

And, since you stuck around, here are some cookies I made. Pink peacock feathers. Aren't they presh?

Anthropology inspired mirror

2011-03-29T08:51:00.000-05:00

We finally got an Anthropology in Little Rock last year. It was exciting times in our little city. I went down and checked out the store. Cute clothes and amazing decorations.

I was in heaven.

And then, I saw this mirror. And I fell in love. I kind of have a small, itty bity obsession with mirrors.

And then I saw the price tag. $488? No thank you.
And then I immediately thought, I can make that myself.
It took me a while to finally give it a go, but I'm glad I did.

I started by searching for old frames. I found two for $1.50. Then, to supplement the frames, I bought some small egg and dart molding and some scalloped molding at Michaels for $3.00 each. We've done so many molding-related projects that we have a large collection of it left over. So I used that as well.

We bought a mirror at Michaels too for $5.00. ($488 bucks my butt.)

And, because we are just like this, we also had leftover pieces of MDF (medium density fiberboard) that were big enough. I wanted the frame to be close to the size of the one I saw at Anthropology. The mirror I bought was about 15 inches across and then I added 4 inches all the way around to make it about 23 inches (theirs was 24 inches, close enough). We drew a circle using the string method and cut it out with a jigsaw.

(Do not try this at home.)

We also have a lot of stain left over from random projects, so I used that to stain each piece a different color. To make the colors go further and look different, I left it on each piece for different lengths of time. So even though I ended up with four different colors, I only used two colors of stain and left some natural.

Brad cut everything down into 2-3 inch sections. We left the corner pieces of the frames intact and they looked really cool.

I freaked out during much of this because I'm convinced he's going to cut off a finger one day. (Also, check out the awesome table we built!)

(See the cute rope molding? That's left over from the

crown on the kitchen cabinets)

Then I had to sand everything down. That was NOT fun. But the sun was shining, so I didn't mind hanging out on the deck. I also had Brad cut down several pieces of MDF and I used those as filler. I hated the idea of cute molding being hidden under other molding, so I wanted the MDF to give it dimension as well as keep cost down.

Sand the circle.

I painted the MDF a dark brown (left over from the doors in the house). and glued the mirror down with mirror adhesive. (it's a type of liquid nails, found in the caulk section)

Then start layering the pieces on. You want to keep everything close enough together that you cover up most of the frame, but you want to spread it out enough that you see each layer.

I also tried to make sure that I kept colors away from each other too much and spread out the 'interesting pieces' like corners, angled cuts and some that I had fewer of.

This is the dry run I did a few days before. Not bad, but I wanted it to be fuller.

See the white primer? That's why I painted it a dark color. Once I had a few the way I liked them, I gorilla glued them into place. I kind of thought I might use the nail gun to help hold them down, but I never did.

That glue? Is not going anywhere.

Total cost? About $20. But mostly because we had a ton of the supplies already.

Do you want one? I have enough supplies left over to do a second one. Imagine that. And I'm thinking about opening an Etsy store to sell it. Just curious if anyone is interested. But, instead of $488 (or the now low, low sale price of $299) I was thinking around $100 because it is kind of time intensive.

Or? You could just make one of your own.

Excerpt

2011-03-22T09:25:00.000-05:00

I'm pretending to write a book. Pretending, in that, I say I'm doing it (actively) but really, all I'm doing is thinking about it (passively). Usually inspiration strikes me in chunks and I sit and write until I hit a wall or get too busy to give it any attention.

Sometimes, when I get back to it, I have to reread what I previously wrote. And oddly, I stumble upon portions that I don't even remember writing, like this one. My character's name is Kaitlyn. She works at an ad agency and lives alone. Her boyfriend is a jerk, she just hasn't figured it out yet. Don't worry, she will.

Probably my favorite thing about living here is that I’m alone. That I know several things when I put my key into the door. 1: That the door is, in fact, locked. 2: That the only shoes on the floor will be mine. And 3: I will not have the unfortunate experience of walking in on a certain someone and her boyfriend getting frisky on my couch. Yes, those things happened, the first two numerous times, the third thankfully only once. And I made her pay to have the couch cleaned. I think she was more upset about that than my viewing her tattooed bum. At least she was interesting.

But when it comes to roommates, I don’t like interesting. Interesting is fun to bump into in a bar on a random Saturday night. Interesting is not fun to live with on a daily basis. So I was grateful when I landed the job at Collins & Collins and could afford to move out. And, I think she was happy to be rid of the ‘prudish, quiet girl.’ Or at least that’s what her twitter stream said before I blocked her. People say that you shouldn’t live with your friends, that you might grow to hate and/or despise each other. I’m here to say that you should also avoid the girl in your quant class too. Just because you both need a roommate, go to the same school and work nearby does not mean you are compatible to share living quarters, more less a bathroom.

Don’t get me started on the bathroom. Let’s just say I’m not exactly proud of what I did to her shower radio or the means with which I had to go to do it. Desperate times and all.

I walk inside and smile. The only person greeting me is Presley, and while he’s not actually a person, he seems to think so, and who am I to take that away from him?

Hopefully one day, I will finish this project. And then start on the other three books in my head. (Are you laughing? I am.)

Nightstands

2011-03-18T05:51:00.003-05:00

After building our bed, we needed nightstands to go with it. We found these end tables and thought they would work. (Seen at the end of this post) Remember the terrible blue lamps? These were just as bad.
They didn't work. At all. But we kept them, because that's what you do.
A few weeks ago we stumbled upon some nightstands at Carries (my fav place). They were priced separately at $12.50 each. Why they weren't selling them as a set is beyond me. Obviously we grabbed both. I wasn't really sure about them in the beginning.
So, they were pretty cheap and despite being solid wood, we did the unthinkable and painted them! I'm pretty sure I paint everything that enters my home antique white (premixed from Lowes!)

Here they are after Brad had given them a good sanding. (Because I'm a bad blogger and forget to get crappy before pictures.)

They had these really terrible Asian inspired drop/hanging handles that Brad thankfully had already taken off. Seriously, they were not cute.

While I love the clean lines of the fluted trim down the side,

I did not love the terrible Hawaiian looking carved inlay thing on the top drawers. It felt so dated and not in a good way.

So, we cut down a piece of thin luan wood and covered it up! we gorilla glued them in place then added a few small nails (via nail gun) just in case.

Then we used a bead of caulk to smooth the edges. We also drilled the hole for the knob.

Both of the stands got three coats of primer followed by three coats of paint. The entire time Brad lectured me about how I should have done that with the dresser. And I didn't. Yada, yada, yada.

They turned out nice.

So here it is now beside my unmade bed.

They just look so much happier. The white is cleaner and the knobs are more simple. (BTW, we found a 4 pack of Oil Rubbed Bronze knobs at Home Depot for $5.00. I really like using cute/decorative knobs on smaller projects like this, but this package had the exact amount so I caved to Brad when he pointed them out.)

Happy Friday! I have another project that I've been working on and I can't wait to show you. Here's a hint: It's an Anthropology knock off.

Southern Girl Academy

2011-03-16T09:31:00.000-05:00

In case you haven't heard, a couple of lovely ladies started a blog and invited some of us to play. It's called The Southern Girl Academy and we teach lessons on sass, grace and allure. It's fun.

And today I have a post over there. So pop on over and check it out. It's about movies. And if you know anything about my husband, he is nothing, if not a movie freak. Unfortunately, he has not seen any of the movies I wrote about, so he was no help.

Unnamed Yum bars

2011-03-14T08:08:00.000-05:00

Last week on one of my occasional [ha] visits to Starbucks, I noticed they had new mini treats. Cake pops! Red velvet whoopee pies! Two-bite cupcakes! And this little bit of heaven they called Salted caramel chocolate bites.

I bought one. And it was great.

I was thinking about it long after the last crumb was gone and the tiny [and adorable] box it came in was empty.

Usually when I want to remake something in my own kitchen, I analyze it. Many times I’ve been in a restaurant and Brad has declared, “Make me this!” I sit and stare at the color. Analyze the textures. And taste the flavors.

This was not one of those moments. I inhaled this thing. So when I was still thinking about it days later, I knew I was going to have to reproduce this thing from hazy memories.

It started with a shortbread crust. Had a layer of nuts, walnuts I believe. Followed by a swirl of chocolate and caramel. There were tiny bits of salt flecking the top.

I started out by toasting my walnuts, about 1 ½ cups. Bake at 350 for 10 minutes. This just gives the nuts a nice flavor.

I ended up altering the shortbread recipe I found to be gluten free. Not because I’m eating gluten free anymore, but because I wanted to be able to share with Kerri and I had previously made some g-free cookies using these ingredients and they had a lovely flavor.

¾ cup unsalted butter softened and cut into small pieces.

½ cup brown sugar

1 cup quinoa flake

1/2 cup brown rice flour

½ cup soy flour

(all of these last three ingredients could be subbed for 2 cups all purpose flour, that’s how the original recipe had it.)

*It also called for 1 tsp of salt, but I left it out because of the salted caramel.

Place all the ingredients into a food processor. Pulse until combined. This is especially necessary if using the quinoa flake. Line a 13x9 pan with foil. Press the dough into the bottom, cover evenly. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes.

While baking, mix 1 can sweetened condensed milk with 3 cups chocolate chips. I almost exclusively use ghiradelli chocolates, usually a mix of semi-sweet and 60% cocoa. That’s what I used in this. Heat in a double bowler. Once melted and completely combined, add 1 ½ teaspoon vanilla. (When I tweeted that this was ‘basically fudge in a crust,’ I wasn’t lying.

There is a wonderful product that I love, caramel bits! They used to only show up around Halloween and Christmas, but now I find them year round. They’re great. No more unwrapping a million caramels.

Place caramels in microwave safe bowl, add a few tablespoons of water and heat at thirty second increments until completely melted. I added a teaspoon of sea salt to this. (regular salt would work too, add slowly and taste, especially if you’ve never played with salted caramel.) I used about ¾ of my bag. So probably a little over a cup. I should have measured. I’m sorry. If you want more caramel, melt more, if less, use less. This is about what you like.

The goal is to have the crust done before the chocolate is finished. When the crust finishes, take it out of the oven and sprinkle with chopped walnuts. Top with chocolate. Try to push the chocolate down into the crust using the back of a spoon. I think the Starbucks version used a ‘runnier’ chocolate, not thick like my fudge, because my chocolate separated from my crust.

Pour the caramel over the top of the chocolate. I swirled it together a bit with my spoon and made large divots in the chocolate to hold yummy pools of caramel.

For more fun and flavor, I topped all of this with mini chocolate chips and a light sprinkle of sea salt.

I’ve always been intrigued by salt and chocolate. The two flavors are so delicious together. Ever noticed how much more chocolate flavor you get from a chocolate chip cookie that has salt in it? Yum.

So there it is, a delicious, unnamed, knock-off Starbucks dessert. If you don’t feel like making it, I strongly encourage you to grab one from Starbucks. Mine isn’t quite the same, but they’re both divine.

Recipe:

Crust:

¾ cup unsalted butter softened and cut into small pieces.

½ cup brown sugar

1 cup quinoa flake*

1/2 cup brown rice flour*

½ cup soy flour*

(*or 2 cups all purpose flour)

1½ cup walnuts

Chocolate layer:

1 can sweetened condensed milk

3 cups chocolate chips

1 ½ tsp vanilla

Caramel:

1 cup caramel bits

2 tbsp water

1 tsp sea salt

Toast chopped walnuts at 350 for 10 minutes. Pulse all crust ingredients in food processor. Press into 9x13 pan lined with foil. Bake at 350 for 20 minutes. Top with walnuts, Melt chocolate with SCM, add vanilla at the end. Melt caramels with water, add salt to taste. Top walnuts with chocolate and caramel. Garnish with mini chocolate chips and sea salt if desired.

Lamps

2011-03-10T15:13:00.000-06:00

Brad and I built these two tables that flank our entertainment center. They made a good place to put lamps. But the entertainment center is so tall that the lamps couldn't be small. So we bought these:

And we painted them blue. And then I decided I didn't like them. So here is a step-by-step process of turning these blue lamps into some pretty wooden lamps.

Step #1:
Throw away the blue lamps. They're hideous. No amount of spray paint will save them. (If you want to be smart about it, you could pull the harp, socket and other 'innards' out and reuse them. Or if you don't have horrible ugly lamps, just buy that new.)

Step #2:
Decide how big you want the lamps. We went with about 18 inches tall. We used a 6 inch wide piece of pine and 2 inch wide pieces for the side. We were looking to create a rectangle. You could go more square with yours, and as tall or as short as you like.

Step #3:
Notch a hole at the base of the backside of the lamp. This is for the cord. (You can see I have the boards numbered so I made sure everything from lamp 1 and lamp 2 did not get confused, in case they weren't the exact same measurements.

Step #4:
Start putting the pieces together. We used a combination of gorilla glue (because it rocks) and nails. Keep in mind where the seams will be. Ours were on the sides so that the front would be smooth.

Step #5:
Measure the base and the top.
You could go two ways with the top. On the bottom, we have a larger base cut from an 8 inch wide piece of pine. We cut it so that there was the same amount all the way around. Again, more or less, depending on what kind of look you're going for. Our top (not pictured here) fits snuggly into the hole on top. Don't forget to drill a hole for the top of the lamp!

Step #6:
Beat it up. This can be skipped. But we wanted them to look rustic. (Also why we chose pine, it's really soft and frankly, cheap)
Tools: Hammer, nails, chain. Have fun. I like to barely hammer the nail into the surface in small clusters to make it look like worm holes.

Step #7:
Stain to the desired color. Please note, wood conditioner is your friend! If you don't have it, water works fine as well. Basically it opens to pores so the wood will take the stain evenly. Very important if you're working with a dark color [like we are].

Step #8:
Before you attach the bottom, put all the lamp parts together. If you buy a kit, there are instructions, follow them. If you took your lamp apart, redo what you undid. Since my boxes are kind of narrow, I wasn't able to put my hand inside. I dropped a string through the top and then pulled the cord up. Make sure everything works!

Step #8:
Put on the bottom. I would suggest either nails or screws (but counter sink them so they don't scratch the table), that way if anything goes wrong, you can access the inside of the lamp. If you use gorilla glue just be prepared to throw it away. Seriously that stuff is strong.

Step #9:
Lamp shade!

Right now, the harp part of the lamp is sitting straight on the top of the box. It kind of looks like the lamp has no neck. Odd? Kind of. I'm not sure I like the look. I think I want a tiny bit of breathing room.

Oh, and pro tip? When you're picking out lamp shades. Even if they are the exact same size and they are stacked together. That does not ensure that they are in fact identical shades. And, if you take off all the wrapping and leave them up for two weeks before you notice it? You are stuck with them.

Pardon me while I ramble

2011-03-08T10:14:00.000-06:00

I've battled stress and stress-related obnoxiousness for much of my life. Brad says that I'm simply wound a bit too tight. I think that I just take everything really, really seriously. Life. Work. Family. Even crafts. Be thankful you haven't been around to witness one of my cake-related meltdowns. Those are epic. And that's something I do because I think it's fun. Not because I have to. Most cakes I tend to seek out, rather than people asking me to do them. And yet? Even in the throws of batter and icing and creativity I find myself in tantrum mode more often than not.

Most recently, my stress has been battling my stomach. After one too many interrupted nights of sleep I went to a specialist who ran my body thought the gamut of ridiculous tests. Endoscopy. Ultrasound. Colonoscopy. Samples and such. My wallet is about $600 lighter from co-pays and yet my mind is not relieved in the least.
Well, technically, they told me nothing was wrong. Which, in the scheme of things, is great. But, that means that they have no idea why my body is fighting me.

Saturday I had a particularly obnoxious phone call with my grandmother about my youngest sister. After hanging up sobbing, I turned to Brad and said, "This. This is what the colonoscopy doesn't test for."

It's me. I take everything to heart. I don't know how to not. Even when I declare myself 'done with someone' I'm not actually done with them. I still think about them. But instead of thinking about how much that person bothers me, I'm thinking about whether or not my actions were too harsh.

My doctors parting advice was 'more fruits and vegetables.' I think a better answer is yoga and counseling. But, of course then I'll just be racked with guilt any time I don't get around to doing one or the other. And on nights when I have to work late, instead of just getting the work done, I know that I will sit there stressing about having to reschedule the therapy or wondering just how long I will have to stay up to do the yoga.

Brad says I take on too much. I like to think that I take on just the right amount. My stomach would beg to differ. And while it's not complaining too much right now, my left eye has been twitching every two to three minutes for the past week and a half – during my waking hours that is. Not sure what it's doing in my sleep, the cha-cha for all I know. Because now I am sleeping. Stress, you are an obnoxious and fickle thing.

It's like I have this underlying current of stress moving through my body. A hum that you just can't place your finger on, but you sense it, you know it's there, you just don't know where it's coming from.

Brad thinks I do too much. I think I don't do enough. I see people around me, working hard, finding success, being great. And I feel like my feet are planted in cement. Like I'm resting on my laurels of past success. And those success no longer feels good enough. College? Pshh, College is nothing. A job? Eh. Building your own house? Passe. My life feels tired and trite. Is this the frustration of the ambitious? Will anything ever be good enough? Whose standards am I trying to live up to? A collective of greatness carefully plucked from those around me, as I choose to ignore any shortcomings that may have accompanied those successes that I long for?

Life is not a game, and yet I can't seem to keep my eyes off the score board. Rather than doing, I feel like all I do is complain. It makes me tense. It makes me feel crazy. And that? Just makes me feel inadequate. So, until I figure this out. Until the answers magically align in front of me.

I will just breathe.

Wordless Wednesday

2011-03-02T09:14:00.000-06:00

I made myself a hat.

I used some of the antique buttons my grandmother gave me.

They make me happy. The hat makes me happy.

#SimplePleasures.

Pondering meanness

2011-02-23T06:51:00.001-06:00

Let's just start off with the obvious: Girls are mean. It doesn't seem to matter the age, we find ways to tear down those around us. Sometimes they are our 'loathed enemies.' And sometimes, sadly, they are our friends.

According to Scientific American, women are more socially aggressive than men. Although, I have to say, I didn't really need a study to tell me that. I'll go ahead and start with the basics and blame society. That's always a good place to start. We're programed to be competitive from an early age. And my generation was no different. Actually, maybe it was. Girls were encouraged to not only compete in the realm of sports, but also through beauty pageants. We needed to be able to both kick your ass on the softball field as well as be able to prance around in a bathing suit. (For the record, I didn't do pageants. I was gawky. Among other things.)

But as adults, you would think that kind of mean-spirited competition would be cast to the wayside. And yet, it isn't. We compete constantly. Daily. For everything. From jobs and accolades to friends and attention.

I like to think that I surround myself with 'nice' people. Ladies, if you will. Ladies who can fully acknowledge greatness in others. Women who can, without a trace of sarcasm, say, "She's better than I am at that. And I lover her for it."

I like to think that we find the uniqueness in those around us and raise them up. On no less than four occasions, I have had people jump to suggest me [on twitter] to bake a cake-whether it was for someone who knew me or not.

Those are friends. People who see the greatness in others and seek to praise it, without looking to gain anything.

This, is the opposite of mean.And yet sometimes, we immediately jump to a conclusion, "They're just jealous." This is a perfect reason because it leaves the person who has been hurt feeling vindicated. 'Obviously the only way someone could hate me is if they are jealous.' Now the attacker has become the attacked.

And yet, I've seen with my own eyes these very same ladies say some particularly harsh things about, well, some of these very same ladies.

How does this happen? This backslide? Where's the grace? Does it simply take a day off? Do we meet our daily quota of nice and slide into a comfy bath of snark? And if so, why?

I've had my share of nemeses. From the girl who threw gum into my hair on the bus when I was in third grade to the friend who just wasn't anymore. Some provoke a boiling hatred while others are met with a low-grade anger and quick dismissal.

I want the happy, nice friends in my life. And yet, I'm not always the happy, nice friend myself. I try to be. But it doesn't always work that way. I like to think of the Golden Rule and do such. But sometimes? Sometimes we need a kick in the ass.

And when it's my turn? I give you full permission.

Day Tripper

2011-02-21T11:24:00.000-06:00

Friday I made a mad dash to Denver. It was what you might call a 'quick business trip.' Really it was me dropping something off.
From Little Rock.
To Denver.
And back.
In one day.
(See how I make it feel all tedious by adding lots. and lots. of periods?)

It was actually kind of fun. And when the trip was booked Thursday night, there was discussion of how long I would actually BE in Denver.
Let me tell you, it seemed like I would be there longer than I was at the time of booking.
I landed in Denver at roughly 9:45. Left the airport around 10:30 (I might have gotten lost) and got into a taxi. The taxi brought me back to the airport at 12. I went through security, had some lunch and then explored the airport. (Then my flight left at 1:45)
I found a cute little store called Four Seasons. They had jewelry. I've been wanting a necklace. They had several.
I ended up being drawn to a section called Pick Up Sticks Jewelry. You can check out their catalog online, but you can't purchase there. Here's the list of Arkansas retailers. (Here's where you can search to find near you.)
Their pieces are adorable. Handmade and clever. And not terribly priced. I picked up this one for $32-with a chain. I love that the pieces are two sided. So you can show which ever mood you're feeling at the time.

First, I have a slight obsession with the eiffel tower, despite never having seen it. Second, she's holding cakes. CAKES! And third? Pardon my French? I may or may not have recently been accused by the hubs of cursing a bit too much. (And, there's a crown!)
I love it.

I had previously been considering this one:

'Tickled Pink' on one side. 'Nobody ever died of laughter' on the other. (Something I need to remind myself of on occasion.)

There's also an adorable section called Word Candy. I think I could buy all of them. There's even a section called Queens. Who wouldn't love that? I know for a fact that several of these will soon become gifts for some of the ladies in my life.

The photos are adorable. The words are pure wisdom and just plain fab. If you happen upon some of these, I recommend snatching one up. And one for a friend. They're just that great.

The lovely people at Pick Up Sticks have no clue I'm writing about them. They don't know me. They didn't pay me. I paid for my necklace and all that jazz. I just thought they were so cute that I had to share. Also, they may or may not be upset that I snagged their pics to use. Sorry! Hope you're cool with it since I'm showing you guys some love!

Photo Wednesday

2011-02-16T09:44:00.000-06:00

Which totally doesn't have the same alliteration as Wordless Wednesday. But, as someone pointed out, my post are far from wordless.
Ever.
So, today, some photos.
I bought a dress. I've never really had a dress. A real dress. Except for my wedding dress. (which is now 'stored' in the attic, wrapped in a ball. I'm sure it's lovely.)

Working at an ad agency, we often work on events - galas, balls, soirees and the like. Occasionally, we get invited to these things. I've always turned it down, not having 'the dress.'
Not wanting to invest hundreds of dollars into a dress that might very well only see the light of my closet, I've been scouring sales. Including Ideeli*. Which, I'm kind of addicted to. I've talked about it before.

I bought this Rock & Republic dress for $80. (Pup not included) They claim it retails for $580. Who knows.

So, now I have a dress, in case an event comes up. Knowing my luck, one will not and I will end up parading around the house a la Phoebe on a random Sunday afternoon.

*This is a personal invite to ideeli. They claim to be 'all invite only.' And technically, they are. But once you're a member, you can invite anyone. And, added perk, if the invitee buy something you get a $10 credit. Which rocks. I'm not inviting you on the hopes that you buy something, rather sharing a cool site. But if you DO buy something, well, I'll like, love you and stuff.

A little family talk

2011-02-15T09:19:00.000-06:00

This weekend I saw my mom. I didn't 'see her, see her' I just saw her in her car. I froze. The thoughts that crossed my mind were as followed:
1. What is she doing here?
2. I'm in Brad's truck that she's never seen. Would she even know?
3. I've cut all my hair off and she doesn't know. (I never told my grandmother because around that same time she had a 'life altering event' involving a Taco Bell chalupa and I never could get a word in edgewise for three months- She swore it was 'that good.')
4. Seriously, why is she here?
5. I must save Kacie.

Backstory:
I've probably covered it numerous times, just in case, here's the quick and dirty version.
In 2004, Kacie went to spend the summer with her dad in Georgia, we were seeing if she liked living out there. If so, she would move there summer of 2005 (after graduating high school). During her few months there, her grandmother was diagnosed with cancer and she was going to die. Her dad wanted all of us out there together. My other sister and I flew out and spent a few days. During this time, conversations moved to our childhood and namely, the divorce we went through when I was 12 (Nikki 8 and Kacie 7). Things were said. Questions asked. I remember what I thought happened. And what our mom said happened. We were curious what he said happened. That was all. Kacie make the events sound much more sinister than they were. She might have relished in the drama of it all and told people we 'bashed our mother all night.' Not the truth.
Regardless, when it came time for Kacie to come home, mom said she wasn't welcome anymore. She turned her back on her mentally handicapped child. Kacie was forced to stay with her father. She was moved to a new school, in a new state, her senior year.
I have never forgiven our mother for this. Fast forward three years, Kacie came to visit. She stayed with me for 3 weeks. I asked her mom if she could spend some of that time at her house. She said no, claiming we had a mastermind plan to 'force Kacie back onto her.'
Her daughter.
No. Not the case. It was Christmas. Get over yourself.
During the visit, I snapped. Christmas day. I haven't spoken to her since. And while I've gotten wonderful advice about forgiving being something we do for ourselves and not for the others involved. I can't. While I no longer harbor the white hot rage, I still know that I do not want this toxic woman in my life.
I have several friends who have this same toxic relationship with their mothers. And I have to ask, 'why?' Why do these relationships have the potential to become so angry. So hate-filled? And why, are we as daughters forced to put up with it? I put my foot down. I like to think it takes strength. I like to think that the road of hard knocks that I walked in my childhood lead me to a place that I can both have the strength to cut out my mother, but also to continue to walk without that extremely influential person by my side.

6. Friends are the family you choose for yourself.

Instead, I surround myself with great friends. This is probably why my friends are so important to me. Probably making them more important to me than I am to them. It happens sometimes.

But seeing my mom, for the first time in over four years made me think. It scared me. It didn't make me miss her. The fear I felt in my throat was akin to seeing an ex-boyfriend. One that did you wrong. One that made you question your self worth. One that the bad was so overwhelmingly present that you can't even remember why you liked them in the first place.

7. I could have driven over her car with my truck.

Anger. Why was she here? Instead of turning into Kacie's apartment- The one I found her. The one I fought to get her into. The one where she would be close enough to me that I could help her. The one where I was listed as 'emergency contact.' The one where I explicitly told them never to contact her mother.
I drove straight. I watched her vehicle in my rearview mirror. She turned around and left. I watched as she was on her phone. I freaked. I called Brad. Kacie's phone was messed up-the purpose of my mid-Saturday visit. I turned around and pulled into Kacie's apartment, thinking that her mom was lost and didn't know where she was going. When I got to the door, there was already a note. Kacie wasn't there and apparently her mom had already come and gone once before.

8. Too little, too late.

I caught up with Kacie later. They have been talking on the phone. Kacie doesn't even understand that a large portion of why I don't speak to our mother is because of how she treated her.
But that is neither here, nor there.

My hope is that if they are to rekindle their relationship, that my mother has learned something in the last several years. That blood, is in fact, not thicker than water. And that giving birth to someone doesn't give you free rein to treat them like dirt.

Buttoned up

2011-02-08T06:00:00.055-06:00

I have a tendency to collect buttons. I don't exactly mean to but it happens. I think that I might use them later. That all the buttons on my shirts and jackets are going to mysteriously disappear and that I will need those back ups. But the truth is, they never do. And even when I do lose a button, I never bother to replace them.

I mentioned wanting to do something cool with all these buttons to my grandmother and she gave me a ton of antique buttons.

Score.

These are way better than my leftover Gap and Banana Republic simple black and tortoise. These were big, small, crystal, green ones, flowers, you name it.

I have forgotten along the way where I got this idea – I could have ripped it straight from the pages of Pottery Barn, I have no shame along with no memory. Either way, it's simple and fairly low cost. You could probably replicate something similar with things from your house.

My grandmother also gave me some old frames, but if you're like me, you have frames that for whatever reason don't have glass but you never threw away. (Or that's just me.) If you don't, I see them all the time at flea markets.

I also had a piece of leftover canvas. This could be substituted with any plain fabric (or mostly plain).

I sketched out an 'M.' The easiest way is to print out a large single letter or enlarge it. (I think it was around 165 point font) I used a pencil very lightly then started laying out buttons, making sure to spread out small ones and large ones, keeping colors from touching and spreading out the interesting ones.

And then I hot glued the buttons in place. I planned on going back and stitching them down, but I didn't. I'm lazy.

You probably wouldn't believe this really happened

2011-02-07T11:22:00.000-06:00

This past Saturday we got invited to a party. We didn't know the host. We didn't know the other guests. We only knew the four other people that we went with. Usually, this spells disaster for me, since I don't do well with strangers. I have issues with big groups. I can work in a one-on-one situation, regardless of whether or not I know the person. And oddly (from my retail days-Yes Matt, I referenced RETAIL. Again.) I can address a large group of strangers, pending I have something worth talking about. But those in between groups? The 3-5 people? I stand there with a stupid look on my face and then inevitably end up pulling out my phone and ignoring everyone.
That didn't happen this weekend, but I want to prepare you for how I act around groups. Because, thankfully, I wasn't the odd one at this party.

So, all I knew going into this party was that our friends husband (technically, our friend too) had invited us to his old fraternity brothers house where a local guy would be playing in the garage. It should be noted that the husband is a few years older than us. Forty actually. He's the oldest in our 'group.' Which is fine. But when we got to the house, we realized that the host was his Big B, thus he was older still. So, we partied with some mid-forty to fifty year old peeps. That's cool. It's cool. Except I immediately felt awkward. I couldn't put my finger on it, just being a bit younger, plus looking younger still made me feel odd. The women [while nice] seemed a bit judgy. (Come on, you know what I'm talking about).
I should back up though.

We didn't know where we were going. We followed our friends through town, turn after turn. As we got closer, Brad was like, 'Is this near the murder house?' Our other friends didn't know what we were talking about. The Murder House, or so we dubbed it years ago was a house where a woman was brutally murdered in her front yard by her daughter egged on by the daughters crazy husband. (My friend Michelle found this article about it.)
We dubbed it The Murder House because we are extremely clever and Brads former Stepmom bought the house next door shortly after his father passed away. We could not figure out why.
So the party started with us busting through the door informing the host (who is thankfully renting only) that he lived in The Murder House.

OK, back to the regular story. We danced a bit. Drank. Sang along to Lucious Spiller and overall had a good time. The other guests were really friendly! Super nice people. One guy convinced me to swing dance with him in the kitchen, where I proceeded to kick about twelve different people (sorry!) The men at the party were, um, lets just say 'very complimentary.'
The evening took an interesting turn when two girls started kissing. Odd given the age group, but nothing completely out of the ordinary.
Until one of the ~~girls~~ women hiked her dress up over her head like she was a three-year-old. Except, she was NOT showing off her tummy.
[insert risque dance/one-woman-burlesque show]

Shortly there after, Brad and I decided it was time to retire. As it was 1:30 am, we were not the first to go, nor were we the last.
But the party did not stop. We were informed the next day that the party moved to Disco. A gay club (that I might or might not have been kicked out of for throwing up on the dance floor a long, long time ago). It was there that things became interesting.
I should have seen this coming.
Several of the fine folks at this party were in fact swingers.
Friendly indeed.
They tried to recruit our friends.
As it was told to me our friend just stood there saying, 'Are you effing kidding me' about fifty times.
Maybe I misheard the guy earlier in the night when he asked me 'Do you swing dance?'
Maybe he said 'Do you swing.'
I suppose I'll never know. Although I'm now regretting answering, 'Yes, I learned in High School!'

Wordless Wednesday

2011-02-02T06:08:00.013-06:00

Recent Cakes:

Adorable pea pod cupcakes (for a woman having triplets)

(Original inspiration came from Pink Cake Box)

The Cookies

For a 5-year old's birthday party

For his other birthday party

(This is THE yummiest cake-chocolate cake soaked in raspberry,

layered with chocolate ganache and covered with more ganache.

A tiny sliver will do.)

Empty Spare Bedroom

2011-01-31T09:07:00.000-06:00

We have a spare bedroom. When Brad's mom moved out we cleared out her back room and moved the bed to the front room. Call it what you will, but I needed to move things around. We started putting everything together. Which I blogged about here. And then swore I would talk more about here.
Have you noticed I tend to ~~lie~~ not fulfill my promises here?
It happens.

Well, then Kacie moved in and I left the mostly finished room alone. Now she's gone.
That's right! She moved out three weeks ago. We had a cute little housewarming party this weekend, so everything is official!

So I finished the one thing that was left in the room. The dresser.

A while back I was leaving Brad's moms house and noticed that her neighbor was having a yard sale. And from my car I saw a cute dresser. Exactly what I was looking for to go in the spare room. Since I was leaving I called Brad (who was still at his moms house) and made him go over and check it out. He called me back in a few minutes and said that he had bought it.
For $10!
Can you say awesome?

I had looked at several other dressers but they all cost so much more and since I wasn't looking for function more than just 'something tall' to take up the space, I was hesitant to spend too much. Glad I waited, because this was perfect! I love the lines of it, but the handles and color were not cool.

Last week I finally got around to painting it. We picked up some oil rubbed bronze handles with crystal accents from Lowes (and a single crystal knob for the top from Hobby Lobby-they have a GREAT selection of unique knobs.) We ended up paying more for the knobs than the dresser.

Dresser: $10 (yard sale)
Dresser knobs: $30 (Lowes and Hobby Lobby)

Mirror: $50 (Midtown Antique Mall)

Shelves: $60 (we built them from pine)
Desk: $60 (2 file cabinets @ $20 each, pine top we built)

Bedding: $60 (Target)

Headboard: $5 (Habitat for Humanity)

Headboard 'bird lamps': $24 (Garden Ridge)
Drapes: $20 (actually canvas drop cloths from Lowes)

Jar with shells: Jar-$1.50 Midtown Antique Mall, Shells-free from Mexico.
Finally having a finished (and empty spare room): I think you know.

My other blog

2011-01-28T08:36:00.002-06:00

I have other places where I write. Particularly, a new one is a Tumblr called Kelli Hates, it's a collection of short bursts of randomness all set within the premise of things that bug me. It's very much tongue in cheek and silly. I make fun of work, life, people around me and mostly myself. It's all in good fun. The posts are short and daily M-F. Check it out if you want to see some silliness. Also, feel free to 'like' it on Facebook.

I also have a blog I long ago abandoned but I think I'm going to resurrect. It's my house blog, The Marks House. I posted to it religiously while we were building our house but stopped once we moved in. Sadly I think the second to last post is me swearing that I wouldn't abandon the blog. That was in May.

Of 2009.

Oops.

Brad and I have several projects we're working on now-Laundry room, painting a dresser so I can reveal the spare room (also I promise I made back in, oh, August of this year) and doing something with our upstairs man cave. So I have things to blog about. Also, when Spring comes around I'm going to have to plant stuff. (Because everything I planted last spring died. Oops again.)

So I guess what I'm trying to decide is, should I keep talking about projects and such here? Should I move that to the house blog and talk about it there only? Originally, the reason that I kept things separated was because this blog was anonymous when I started the house blog. And I didn't want to write about personal stuff here (so much for that, now).

Brad and I are discussing putting the house on the market this Spring. Can you believe it's time already? And we're going to be looking for new property to build on. Then there's the discussion of finding a fixer upper. I'm mostly against that, but we just don't know where to build. I don't want to live in West Little Rock. Regardless, there will soon be much house activity. So my question is: Should I keep two blogs where I rant here about some junk and talk about baking and then have 'the house blog' where I talk about projects? (While still having Kelli Hates?) Or do I lump everything here and separate it by tabs? Or do I just consider that I've got like seven readers and it doesn't matter that much anyway?

Thoughts?

be thankful there are no photos with this post

2011-01-26T11:06:00.000-06:00

This is one of those things that I have to laugh, or else I will cry. OK, not cry tears of sadness, but tears of Oh-My-God-I-Can't-Believe-This-Is-Happening-Ridiculousness.
Let me begin.
My stomach has been giving me trouble.
(I can promise that this post will not get graphic and disgusting, but it might push the boundaries of good taste.)
It's been and off and on thing for a while now. But really got to a point that I could no longer ignore back in November. I had heard about Kerri and how she went gluten free. Talking to her a bit, I decided that I would try it. It never hurts. So the week before Thanksgiving I stripped all gluten from my diet. I had immediate relief. No more pain. (Granted, I was barely eating anything so it could have been a fluke.)
I stayed g-free for around 7 weeks. During this time I had a few incidents. It made me wonder, did I accidentally ingest gluten? (things like Soy Sauce, smokey flavored bacon and spices can all have gluten) Or, was it simply that gluten was not the problem?
I talked to my doctore who referred me to a gastroenterologist. I gave up the g-free diet, which the gastro said was a good thing. In order to get accurate test results I need to be eating a 'regular diet.'

I can't believe I'm about to share this. But I'm a giver, what can I say?
The tests that will be conducted include an endoscopy and an ultrasound. Potential culprits include my gallbladder, gluten, IBS or there is the possibility I got a parasite in Mexico. (Can you say 'ewe?')
I got home after the initial consult and was sitting on the couch when my phone rang. It was the nurse. After a few moments of me 'uh huh,' and 'yes' I hung up.
Brad asked what that was about, so I turn to him and say,
"I have to poop in a cup."
Apparently they forgot to tell me this at the appointment.
Joy.
This lead to a series of interesting questions. How exactly does one manage that feat? I've had to pee in a cup and it took a bit of acrobatics but nothing worth mentioning.
How long does the sample stay good for? Is this something I want to do at work? (Answer, GOD NO) So then when do I handle this? And upon handling this, where do I put it?
The next day I went and retrieved the kit. While there were instructions included, they didn't answer any of the above questions. It simply stated I should 'deliver the sample as quickly as possible.'
Are we talking 'human heart in an ice chest soon as possible' or 'do you mind filling out this paperwork soon as possible'?
It didn't say.
So I followed the instructions and went to '~~make the drop~~' ~~deliver the package~~, leave my sample. Note, as I pulled into the hospital parking lot I saw a tiny date on the form. TOMORROW'S DATE. I had a fleeting thought of 'what the fuck am I supposed to do with this for an entire day?'
Instead I went inside and hoped they didn't notice.
They made me check in and 'go sit down.'
With my sample.
I looked around the waiting room at the faces. People who were here to have actual procedures. People who had purses and bags and coffees. I wondered if anyone had a clue what was in my bag.
Hopefully not.
Did you know the hospital (this one at least) has a pager system, like a restaurant? There was a note on it saying that you will not be seen in the order you come in but in the order of your appointment. As I didn't have one (and technically was a day early for the drop-off) I was concerned. After sitting with IT for an hour, my pager buzzed.
I carried my bag nonchalantly to the counter, IT COULD BE AN APPLE, YOU DON'T KNOW. And they proceeded to ADMIT me to the hospital.
I'm going to be so late for work.
And then, after all of this, to add insult to injury, they tell me that I'm going to need to pay my deductible of $500.
Let me repeat, FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS.
For $500, they should have been able to send someone to my house to collect the sample while I was sleeping and had fairies available to lull me back to sleep in case it woke me!

I remember hearing my grandmother and then mother saying things like, 'getting old is a bitch.' 'You're not always going to be able to eat whatever you want.' and 'Life has a way of catching up with you.'
I of course was fifteen and had an iron stomach and a hollow leg. I could eat whatever I wanted in any quantity. I was known to out eat my stepfather, a burly man well over six feet tall.

And then I got older. You never know when it will sneak up on you. And, by the way? All those questions up there that I posed? I know the answers to them. Now, anyway, but I will not subject you to them.
I think I've done enough damage with this post as it is.
Hopefully you'll come back for my next post.
I promise not to talk about poop.

Rebel

2011-01-19T09:35:00.000-06:00

When I was in high school, I had a few close friends. And occasionally we would find ourselves in mischief. What, sometimes it happens. For the most part, I was a straight-laced, good girl. I followed the rules, never ditched class and did my homework (except reading Frankenstein, I refused. Twice. But that's another story).

Anyway, one of these friends sat beside me in biology class. We had those desks that fit two people, really they were small tables, suitable for yucky experiments like dissecting starfish (yea, we never actually cut into a frog or rat or anything) and staring into microscopes. This class was a fun class though, it was taught by a coach. But not just any coach. A cute coach. A cute coach that filled us full of ridiculous lies about living in his truck behind Sonic (despite the fact that we knew he was married, and while a man might put up with that, I woman never would.)

On one particularly boring lecture day, my friend and I, bored of passing notes decided to take our shenanigans out on the nerd who sat in front of us. (Mind you, I was fully a dork. But he was a nerd. And not to confuse that with the Geek that I am today) Regardless, this guy was a nerd. Hear me out, he stood up to answer his questions. That's right. This wasn't debate class, it was Biology. You're not that important, sit down. In our boredom, we decided it would be hilarious to pull the chair out from under him when he went to sit down.

Whispering and stifling our giggles, we mapped out our plan. We would share the burden equally, me using my right leg and she using her left leg would slink down in our chairs, then casually sit up and pull the chair away just before he sat back down.

It was genius.

Except my friend totally backed out at the last second.

Not cool.

I sat up and half the chair slid back with me, and like clockwork, the nerd came tumbling down. The class erupted in laughter. Even the cute coach had to stop himself and cover it with a cough. As quickly as the laughter started, it stopped abruptly. I unhooked my foot from the chair quickly (how I thought it might not be pinned on me was ludicrous). The coach barked, "Why did you do that?"

Shocked at my own behavior, I immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that." Hello, funny. I thought it would be funny. Coach asked nerd if I should be sent to the office. He looked me in the face and said, 'no.'

Let's just say he was much nicer than I. I would have sent my butt packing. I probably would have also feigned an injury as well.

Instead, class resumed, nerd continued to stand when he spoke and I went back to my good girl self. My life as a rebel was short-lived. But for about thirty seconds, it was hilarious.

My Blognanomous

2011-01-17T10:31:00.000-06:00

This is a post that I wrote that was going to be posted on someone else's blog called 'blognonymous.' It was intended to be a way to say something that you wanted to get off your chest without anyone knowing it was you that said it.

Fun.

Well, for some reason, the woman hosting my blog decided to take my post down. I don't know why and I'm going to pretend that I don't care. (Except that I totally do) And I'm going to not pass any kind of judgment about her maybe not being comfortable with 'gays' because, for the record, I love my gay uncle. I think everyone should have one. Or, maybe she wasn't comfortable with my flippant references to alcohol being used to soothe ones nerves. OR, maybe she's a spy sent by my mother and was upset with my disregard toward my family.

Or maybe she was just jealous that my hilarious post was racking up a ton of comments.

Who knows. I'm just speculating here.

For the record, most of this is partially true and very much tongue-in-cheek and supposed to make you laugh.

Anyway, without further ado, here is MY [now not so] anonymous post:

Christmas, that time of year to bake until your fingers bleed. To feign interest in yet another pair of velour sweatpants with writing on the ass. And to gather round your family and try not to choke them.

I love the holiday season. Just. Love. It!

Are you catching the sarcasm?

I hope so, because I’m spreading it on pretty thick.

I guess I should explain. You probably don’t know me. You probably don’t know my family. Let me warn you, it could get ugly.

I haven’t spoken to my mother in four years. Four years to the day, this Christmas.

It’s been a great four years.

Usually Christmas takes place at my Grandparents. It has every year that I can remember. Until this year, when my grandmother cancelled because the entire family is fighting.

There’s me who’s not speaking to my mom. My two sisters (also not speaking to my mom). There’s my gay uncle who’s not speaking to my (probably) gay aunt and also not speaking to my mom. (Catch a theme here with my mom? She’s definitely the problem child in all of this.) He’s also not talking to my other sister (there’s some kind of allegation of a gay slur that my sister vehemently denies. And by ‘vehemently denies’ I mean she claims she never said it with a shrug of her tattooed shoulder.) My other uncle doesn’t really have a problem with anyone, but his girlfriend doesn’t like my littlest sister. My grandmother ‘refuses’ to get into the middle of all of this, despite the fact that it was her and my grandfather giving their inheritance early that caused all of this.

Still following? Hope so.

SO, this year Christmas was just us – Me. My husband Brad. And the pups.

Oh yeah, and my sister who’s living with us. And his mom who used to live with us.

Can somebody pass the gluten-free vodka?

Deep down, I love Christmas. Love it. I want to wrap it up in a big box and mail it to myself. Except that would be strange. And impossible.

Why are you staring at me?

But I never get to fully enjoy the holidays. Brad is the Grinch to my Clark Griswold. I love decorations but he hates them. As a compromise I put up a tree and a wreath. And, I managed to force feed him some cider and pie. He doesn’t know what he’s up against.

Then, when running the fab gift for my 7-year old nephew by his mom, I was told that in fact, he would probably not like the Buzz Lightyear turbo pack that I bought, and could I return it for ‘Black Ops Call of Duty.’ (I kid you not.)

With all of that in mind, the best day of my vacation was December 26^th, when I woke up and it was all over. The saddest part is that come November of next year I will attempt to punish myself all over again, with 11 months between now and then to forget this. So could someone send me the post to remind myself to either get some Xanax or sleep the month of Decemeber?

Thanks.

Blognonymous

2011-01-14T05:00:00.012-06:00

I am participating in The Daily Dribbles and Domestically Challenged Blognonymous Blog Hop. The post below is not my own post. I'm hosting a post for someone else, and in turn, someone else is also hosting a post of mine, all anonymously. Click through the links below to view all the bloggers and posts in Blognonymous

<center><a href="http://thedailydribbles.com <http://thedailydribbles.com/> " mce_href="http://thedailydribbles.com <http://thedailydribbles.com/> " target="_blank"><img border="0" alt="The Daily Dribbles" src=" http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/kdawley/BlognonymousButton.jpg " mce_src=" http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y14/kdawley/BlognonymousButton.jpg "/></a></center>

Dear Anne

Dear Anne-

You are not nice. A lot of people loathe working with you. You talk WAY too loudly on your phone. Your voice is like nails on a chalk board. It's so nasally and unfriendly.

Nobody cares how much you workout. Nobody cares that you are a personal trainer. Nobody cares that you didn't eat bad food during the holidays. You could have the best body and your lack of personality, caring and tact cancels it out. And you're not very pretty so your "rocking" body (as you call it) doesn't really matter. My husband would call you a "butter" face- everything is hot "but-her-face".

You're not good at your job--you just have an amazing support staff. And they don't get any credit because you have no appreciation for them. I cannot believe you are in a management position to begin with. It's a running joke that nobody on my team likes working with you and we only put up with you because we have to. I can't believe you haven't been fired. You must either have the upper management totally snowed or you're sleeping with them.

You suck.

Sincerely,
Me

UPDATE:
For some reason, the woman hosing my blog decided to stop hosting my post, so I've place it here. Enjoy!

Wordless Wednesday Cake

2011-01-12T13:12:00.000-06:00

It's Predator.
It's a cake.

It's a Predator cake.

And it was requested by a 10 year-old. His Stepmom (my friend) told him I couldn't do it so the cake would be a surprise. Upon my arrival the first words out of his mouth were, "I told you she could do it!"

Kids have faith.

Master bedroom molding

2011-01-07T11:11:00.002-06:00

We've done nothing to our bedroom for entirely too long. We threw the headboard up there and left the room as it was. (and I can't believe it was over a year ago that happened!)

We finally decided something needed to be done. And we've been on a molding kick for a while. (pool table room, dining room, crown) We liked the look of our pool table room and wanted to do something similar (even though I can't find a post I did on it, nor can I find a photo even though I know both exist.)

We started with 8 sheets of 4x8 MDF (medium density fiberboard), we ripped them down into 6 inch strips

Brad holding the board. You can't see, but
he's yelling at me to 'put down the damn phone.'

We took off the existing baseboard and replaced it with the solid strips of MDF.

We took 5 foot tall strips of MDF and placed them a foot apart. I started in the corner thinking I was being all smart and would avoid cutting odd strips around the window. I succeeded in that, but I managed to hit Every. Single. Outlet. (so much for measuring)

We added a cap piece all the way around the room. (we also painted the upper half of the room some brownish color that if I were a good blogger, I would remember the name of)

Then added small pieces one foot down, making square boxes for the top row. If one was so inclined, you could do this all the way down (remember to add the width of the board when measuring to ensure you end up with all whole boxes.) But that would take a really, really long time.

We went through and calked all the nail holes and seams. (and also finally added the window moulding)

Then we painted it and didn't bother to clean up the room before snapping a pic.

Here's the view by our door:

You can see where the light switch fell right in the line of the moulding. We cut around the box (turn off breaker first!) so that the wood is bigger than the box but smaller than the plate (make sense?) Then we added a smaller piece of trim across the bottom to frame it out completely.

Update:
I had Brad send a proper photo with the bed made and everything.

Also, through the encouragement of some coworkers, I started a tumblr of things I hate. Obviously, the goal there is to be funny. Feel free to follow along.

Of resolutions and crap

2010-12-31T06:27:00.093-06:00

Look, another obligatory post dedicated to waxing poetically about the year gone by and looking forward to stacking the deck against me before the new year has even graced us with its presence!

Or not.

So, following the the footsteps of like a million other people, here are some completely attainable goals I have set for next year:

(in no particular order)

House Guests
Initial plan would be to have no house guests for 2011. But seeing that Kacie is still with us ~~and I can't kick her out before tomorrow~~, and her place won't be ready for a week or so, that won't work.

Realistic Goal #1:

No house guests from

February through December, 2011

(minus the occasional overnight 'crashed

here in lieu driving drunk' friend.)

Book
I'm going to write one. Maybe a couple. Maybe several. But definitely not all this year. Despite totally swearing the same thing last year, ~~and not making any damn progress~~ and making a valiant effort, I didn't finish that book. But, as I've ~~yelled at anyone who would listen~~ pointed out before, I loved that book too much and there was too much pressure to make it perfect. So this less serious book is easier to write (and frankly, there is no lack for the 'inspiration')

Realistic Goal #2:

Keep writing.

Finish when I finish.

House
So, we're going to build another. If the market will allow us to sell our current home for what we want, we will sell and build again. I've already sketched out the floor plan and bought some really cool light fixtures. Brad swears this one will be smaller and ~~we'll see~~, I agree.

Realistic Goal #3:

Have a nice house completely

paid for by the time we turn 40.

(obviously that one is longer than a year)

Possibly start one this year.

Realistic Goal #3b:

Do NOT build 2nd house in the winter.

That totally sucked.

Pole Dancing
That's right. I'm going to take a pole dancing class. Blame Groupon. I've also convinced a friend to join me. I will not post photos. OK, I might post photos of the bruises. I hear there are bruises. *Insert part where I talk about this being completely about my self-confidence and that it's a really, really great work out-or so I hear. And that Brad did not flip out in excitement when I told him.*

Realistic Goal #4:

Attend the classes.

Do not break anything.

Just say 'no'
I am a people pleaser. ~~Shocker~~ I like to make people happy. Even if it makes me ~~very, very~~ unhappy. I'm going to learn to say 'no' if it needs to be said. Whether it's work, family, baking or shopping (that last one's just aimed at me, just in case you're wondering) I will take on far too much. Granted, I like taking on a lot. And I hate disappointing people. And really, who doesn't like cookies? People <3 cookies therefore, people <3 the person who brought cookies, right? RIGHT?

Realistic Goal #5:

Do not agree to make 700

cookies in one week.

As well as a birthday cake,

petit fours and more cookies.

All at the same time.

Realize that I am not a bakery.

I am only one person with a

full time job and a husband.

(Who's trying to write a book, build a

house and not break her neck.

Should be simple.)

Be happier
This honestly will be the hardest thing on this list. If you've read any of my posts here, you know that I can be a bit ~~whiney and melodramatic~~ melancholy ~~from time to time~~ always. OK, fine I'm a big, fat whiny baby. Just hand me a pacifier and get it over with. According to Brad, I am never happy. Which isn't true. If he ever went shopping with me, he would see that I can be a perfectly happy and pleasant person to be around.

Realistic Goal #6:

Don't cry in public.

Have fun at parties.

Remember that I'm 30 not 80.

So there you have it. Six (and a half-ish) perfectly attainable goals for 2011.

2010-12-30T08:23:00.002-06:00

This is what happens when Brad and I get bored.

This is probably a very good reason as to why we should never be allowed to have children.

I like big butts and I can not lie

2010-12-27T11:39:00.000-06:00

OK, sorry, that song was in my head the weekend I made my sister's birthday cake.
I guess I should explain. Nikki does roller derby and her nickname is "Sandra Buttock." Apparently she's come to be known by her ass. (Must run in the family. For white girls, we kind of have some booty.)
So, I was asked to make her a cake of - yes, her ass.
I tried to offer making a pair of skates. It was politely declined. (which, was probably best, I had too much going on with the 700 cookies to really focus on a pair of skates.)
Nope, she wanted an ass.
I told them that body part cakes were 'cheesy.' (I was being nice. You can read how Aud feels about body part cakes and know that I share her sentiment.)
They said yes, they wanted cheesy.
OK, fine. Ask and you shall receive.

They wanted her signature purple 'derby skins' (AKA booty shorts) and some kind of fishnet leggings with her nickname on the hiney. (Also, let's not discuss what the heck was going on at my house that in the background of the hiney cake is a bowl of grapes and a screwdriver.)

So, then like I usually do, I tweeted it.

And, I mentioned cakewrecks, because, well, I think Jen rocks and I prefer to acknowledge that the cake is crazy. That was sometime Friday night.
I woke up Saturday to this:

Hello! Cakewrecks retweeted me. (Granted it was totally a gimme, but still!) So, her 1.4 million followers saw my name.
Briefly.
At, like, 8 in the morning.
On a Saturday.
So, you know, I'm famous now. But I'm not letting it go to my head.

Anyway, if you want my autograph, just let me know. I'll send you one. You know, if I have the time.

Grilled Cheese

2010-12-22T08:27:00.001-06:00

Last night as we were eating dinner, Brad and Kacie had flour tortillas while I was eating corn tortillas. Our dinner is one I grew up with - chicken mole (most likely some American bastardized version). But instead of the typical white flour to thicken the sauce, I used a brown rice flour.
These are the small changes I have to make at home. Truly, not that big of a deal.
I love flour tortillas, so as I rip into the bland corn one I make a fake smile and an overzealous 'Mmmmmm' sound.
Brad asks, "So, what do you miss the most?"
Without hesitation I reply, "Grilled cheese." It's always been a favorite. The gooey cheese pressed between two slices of crisp bread covered in a thin layer of butter. It's the best. (probably why Savannah's son wanted one so bad!)
For the past month, I haven't had any bread. No flour. No cookies. No gluten.
And while nobody died, I watched myself go though the stages of grief.
Denial.
The Friday that Brad went to Dallas last month, Kacie and I were on our own. I had lunch that day with Kerri and she loaned me her book, The G Free Diet. I ate lunch under her recommendations. She guided me away from the breaded items and toward a salad. I gambled on a soup that could have been thickened with flour.
That night, in frustration, I made the chicken mole, regular flour and all. And, for good measure, I had an alcoholic beverage, made with grain.
Big mistake.
Anger.
I am a baker! This is not cool. 'I'm going to have to stop baking,' I think. I mean, what kind of baker can't even taste her food to make sure it's good? This is stupid. And frustrating. And crappy. Talk about your first world problem.
Bargaining.
Depression.
Acceptance.
Amazingly, I've whizzed right through all of them.
I accept that I will never be able to walk into a restaurant and order anything I want. I accept that I will now worry my head off about things like 'cross-contamination.' I accept that when I go to parties, I'm either going to have to grill the hostess about her cooking or I'm going to have to bring my own snack. I accept that fast food is no longer a luxury that I can partake in (outside of Wendy's chili with fries) because everything is served on a bun, or the chicken coated in flour and fried.
I'm becoming a lot healthier.
I guess that's not a bad thing.
After our discussion about grilled cheese, I was reminded of a quote that got Kate Moss into a lot of trouble, she said something like, "Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels."
And while I kind of disagree with that, it makes me think, "Nothing tastes as good as no pain feels." And while I might hate corn tortillas and the cookies made with soy flour might be a bit strange, it is far better than the doubled-over pain that woke me at 1:30 a.m. many, many times.

If you're wondering, gluten is found in wheat, barley and rye. Often, people with a gluten intolerance (or Celiac's Disease also do not eat oats because of the high likeliness of cross-contamination, although oats themselves do not cause problems. Gluten is used in many, many products as a binder or thickener- like salad dressings, gravies and soups. It's also obviously used in bread and breading. And many canned products will have some gluten, you have to read lots and lots of labels. AND, if that's not difficult enough, there is the potential for cross-contamination. While many chips are gluten-free, they might be produced in a facility that produces a gluten containing product.
Individuals who can not tolerate gluten have a problem with their small intestine. You can read all the details here.
I have not been formally diagnosed with Celiac's Disease or a gluten intolerance, but plan on discussing it with my doctor in the future.

Need, want, have

2010-12-20T12:25:00.000-06:00

Sometimes being an adult means putting things you want to do on a back burner. It means that things you have to do take priority over things you need to do.
For example, on any given Saturday the breakdown might go:
Need to do laundry.
Have to cook lunch.
Want to go shopping.

You could easily argue that need and have are easily interchangeable. And that's entirely possible. But for my purposes, need means I should but could get away without, while have must be done.

Lately my life has been filled with need and have. I try to interject want when I can, but it's been unsatisfactory at best.

Much of what I've done with Kacie has fallen firmly into the need category. Although she should have been filed in have, other things seemed to take priority. I needed to find her a place. I needed to get her an apartment. And finally, I have.
Today, Kacie started at Friendship Community Care in Bryant. We visited last Wednesday when I put 400 cookies on pause to take her. (followed by a 4 hour cardiologist appointment)
She's excited to say the least.

And I get my spare bedroom back. (I think you all know how I feel about that.)

But after three years with my MIL living with us, followed by five months of solitude, followed by three months of Kacie, Brad and I are more than ready to have the house back to ourselves. (and the dogs, of course).
I have to say that having Kacie wasn't that bad. She tries to be helpful, she does much for herself. But, Brad and I chosen not to have kids for a reason.

All of this has made me think about need, want, have.

And looking forward, 2011 will be about want.
What I want to do.
Where I want to go.
When I want.

Brad has always gotten on to me because of conversations like this:
Brad: "Let's go out to eat. Where do you want to go?"
Me: "Anywhere is good."
Brad: "But what do you want?"
Me: "Anything."
Brad: "Pick a place or I will murder you!"
(OK, fine he doesn't threaten to murder me. Most of the time) But he hates my indecisiveness.
Not anymore. I've found my voice and I'm going to use it. (warning, it could get obnoxious)

So next year, I see a year full of want. A year of planning a vacation with new friends. A year of dreaming about the next house. A year of understanding this new way of eating and bonding with a friend who has the same problem. A year of trying to write my book.
A year of doing what I want to do.
No matter what needs or has to be done.
And I'm OK with the consequences of ignoring need and have.
Because I'm living with the consequences of ignoring want right now.
And I don't like it.

Wordless Wednesday

2010-12-15T10:11:00.000-06:00

You know the cookies from this weekend?

I agreed to do them again.

Today.