Oh To Be Inspired

I am too serious a baker, I realize that now. I just take the entire prospect of baking to a level of seriousness that takes the fun and inspiration out of baking. I bake to impress. I've never baked just for the fun and enjoyment of the final product. Not usually, anyway. Strawberry shortcake, that is for fun and enjoyment. Chocolate fudge cake with dried cranberries...that is to impress, despite the fact that it's a seriously great cake done well. I want to regain the fun in baking.

I enjoy making pasta dishes. That is fun, and I love the result. I love the preperation of the ingredients, using my favorite knife to chop up or slice or dice or chifonade the veggies, add the garlic at just the right time to avoid it burning. Using my favorite pans. I feel like I know what I'm doing! And I have fun.

Here are the things I like to bake: Pumpkin Bread, Overnight Sticky Buns, Lemon Poppyseed Shortbread, the shortcakes for strawberry shortcake, biscuits, Cherry, Apple, Blueberry Pie, Boston Cream Pie, Cheesecake. Cheesecake is a challenge that I swear I'm going to master, without the crack down the center. Someday. Still looking for the perfect "tip" on that. I've tried cheesecake a thousand different ways. I have a chocolate cheesecake with chocolate ganache that is outa this world. But still. Too serious.

K made a Bisquick coffee cake today. It was perfect. Moist, extra struesel topping. I'm jealous. He just does it, doesn't think about it or impressing anyone, he's making it because that is what he is craving right now. It's fabulous. He added a tablespoon of oil to the batter. How did he know to do that? What am I missing in this equation?

I'm really not an inspired cook or baker. I follow the recipe exactly. To the letter. I don't know how not to. It's alot like coloring inside the lines. I don't know how to go outside the lines. I don't know how to veer away from The Recipe and do something REALLY EXCITING. He's very good at "winging it." I'm not. On the other hand, I'm really good at other things, and am inspired other ways. I'll figure this thing out. Truly I'll figure this thing out.

And yes, as always, it IS all about me.

Exhausted

I am so exhausted. I'm pooped. I don't know why, maybe it's from working so hard to get a new build of my application in production. Maybe it's from dealing with my employees low moral. Maybe it's from all the change at work. I come home and want to sleep sleep sleep. Maybe it's from knowing there are things I need to do, bills to pay, things to fix around the house, and I feel too overwhelmed to deal with them. I wake up and every bone in my body aches. I have to go back to the doctor for a checkup and I keep forgetting to call until late in the day when they've already closed. I want to slap my self in the face, like Cher from Moonstruck - "snap out of it!" I have to think of a speech for next Thursday for Toastmasters. Maybe I should talk about exhaustion, and little things you can do to combat it.

Maybe it's just that my depression is flairing up and I just need to get through it.

The other day I was in the elevator complaining about the heat. The other woman in the elevator commented, "Well, duh, coffee and long sleeves..." I thought two things: 1. you're a complete stranger why are you talking to me like that and 2. it's 95 degrees outside it has nothing to do with my coffee and long sleeves. I could be drinking iced tea and wearing a tank top and it would still be hot. In fact, the sleeves were 3/4 length and the tunic was a beathable lightweight fabric. Later in the day I said something similar about the heat and yet another woman nearby said "Duuuuh, long sleeves...." What is this: the less you wear the more comfortable you'll be? I should show up to work in the skimpy kind of clothes that the call center reps show up in? No thanks. I don't care for that woman anyway. She's a bit too cynical even for my taste. Lots of negativity. Ha! Looks who's talking.

"Duh" has crept back into our speech; grown adults sounding like a teenager with the vocabulary of a gnat.

Adorable

I love this photo.

6:30 Every Morning

There is a wonderful light that happens at 6:30am, where the greens are really greens and the birds are going crazy with their songs. It's "first cup of coffee" time of day and I wish it could be that time all day long. Maybe I shouldn't be so specific about time. What I mean is that 90 minutes or so after sunrise, overcast or sunny there is a sweet quality that seeps into my very being, makes love possible, and hope isn't just a silly thing. That's why I'm a morning person.

Gorgeous Fountain

I didn't take this picture. It isn't even my home. But if it were it's what I'd do. K wants to do this in the side yard to block Ms. T's awful backyard. She parks her two monster sedans and her F150 in the back yard. I don't care to view it. I'd like to tell her to take her damn cars and park 'em on the street. She's 80 years old and lives alone. Why does she need three cars anyway? But this is what we would do if we had the time and the motivation.

Blonde Matchsticks

I started writing about blonde matchsticks last night and my connection hung so it didn't post to the blog. Shame, too, because it was full of wrath and venom for those twiggy little 18 year old girls who wear platform flip-flops that make them appear to be Frankenstein's baby sister. The point of the thing was that after they, the cashier (guy about my age) and the bagger (another guy, about my age) and the cop finished their three-item transaction that took ten minutes, flirting and giggling the entire way, the cashier started chatting up the woman BEHIND ME IN LINE. And, fuck, when did I become invisible, eh?

It would be so easy to say that once I hit size 16 I dissolved into thin air like the majority of the population who is overweight and apparently don't exist for the likes of Donna Karan and so on. That seems to be cheating, though, and trite to boot. And yes, it's all about me so if you don't like it go somewhere else.

It seems to be a distinct thing with sales people, this situation. I don't have this problem at work, or with my neighbors. They are most likely to assist the younger thinner ones, forgetting that the mature ones probably have more money to spend. Ah, but, we're also intelligent and not likely to be taken in by their sales pitch.

I walked into Blockbuster yesterday and was promptly bombarded with a sales pitch about late-fee-free games, all you can rent, for the modest monthly fee of $20. As it happens I only walk into Blockbuster twice a year or so because I'm a die-hard Netflix subscriber, proudly renting as many movies as I can choke down every month. This guy really pushed, too. No, thank you, I'm a Netflix subscriber. No, thank you, I don't care for another monthly entertainment subscription. No, thank you, talk to my kid he'd probably enjoy it during the summer but he has restricted time for PS2 games during the school year.

Why can't they read my mind? Why don't they get it the first time? No wonder some guys have such a difficult time understanding what "NO" means. There are lots of books telling you how to "sell yourself at work." There's one called "Getting To Yes." You don't have to read the book to be influenced by the titles. How about one called "Understanding No."

Yes, yes, of course I'm ranting, duh, because even though that's the way of the world doesn't mean I have to LIKE it.

-Erin
Posted by erin at July 13, 2003 10:41 AM