constance | transiencies

A brief but well-intentioned UL for you, with emphasis on the U:

I spent my afternoon at work furtively scrolling through Cake Wrecks, which I stumbled on while trolling other people's blogs, and trying not to burst a blood vessel suppressing giggles. I can't decide if I am yet unburst or not.

I wasn't quiet enough, and my next-door neighbor caught me wheezing and introduced me to the palate-cleansing joys of Charm City Cakes, which is apparently the subject of some kind of Food Network reality TV show? I don't know for sure, J was unclear, but really, I think cake is an awesome subject for a reality show. In fact, I'd actually watch this one if I had cable. The cakes are incredibly beautiful, but holy shit, $1000? A thousand dollars? For a cake? It's enough to make you want to master fondant icing and hie yourself to Baltimore. Or at least eat cake for the rest of the day. Mmmm, cake. Caaaaaake.

I'm being good, though, laying off the cake, and it's never been easier. It's harvest time in the deep south, see, and we've got baskets of produce coming into our office to show for it. I mean this literally, too; it seems that every day, anymore, someone's bringing in their homegrown surplus for the office to scavenge, which we do willingly. Well, who am I kidding, we're like freaking hyenas.

How shockingly nice to be eating well, without any effort from or cost to me; I cut up my peach tonight -- it was lovely, thanks for asking -- wishing that it could be like this all the time. And I'd willingly reciprocate, if there were a dreamsicle's chance in hell that I could manage to keep a vegetable plant alive all the way through harvest. There isn't, you know.

Or maybe there is! Because the thing is that I've only managed to kill one plant this year so far (see me hedging my bets here? Isn't that clever of me?). That's not out of one, by the way, ye of little faith, it's out of eight. I keep reminding myself of my overall failure rate so as not to get all cocky, but it's tough when my current sickly-but-still-alive success is staring me in the face every single day. Maybe next year I'll get all sick of my own tomatoes. It's a nice dream, anyway.

I think I like dreaming about Dexter even better, though. Yeah, I do, I really really do. Dreaming about Dexter is my new favorite pastime.

Unrelatedly, I have a question for you. Has anyone ever been around a housefire and its aftermath? Does anyone know how long it takes for the insurance companies to pony up for repairs? Because I'm wondering how long I'll have to live next door to this. It's been two weeks and nothing's been so much as cleaned up, and I'm starting to wonder if there's some problem or question -- but I don't know how long these things are supposed to take. Anyone?

I love Cakewrecks.

Isn't fresh produce season wonderful? I have yellow squash and cucumbers and these beautiful slender Japanese eggplant and basil and mint and I just got pounds and pounds of apricots. Oh, that reminds me, I was going to tell a story on my other lj. I shall go do so.

It seems like Cake Wrecks has just reached some sort of critical mass lately -- everybody's linking. I'm glad it reminded me of Mike's Cakes, though. I love that place.

Decorating cakes is not really that hard. I learned it in 4-H. I think you'd be very good at it.

You could start with a house-next-door-burned-down cake!

A house-next-door-burned-down cake would be stellar, wouldn't it? Actually, I'm thinking a whole week-in-review cake series might be fun! An I-got-a-hammock cake! An obsessively-watching-Dexter-to-the-exclusion-of-more-important-activities cake! And of course ever since Laurel talked about her hobo birthday party, I've wanted to do hobo-signs cupcakes.

I do have a little experience, though, you know, making portrait cakes. My proudest cake achievements include Che Guevara (to celebrate Labor Day) and Emily Dickinson (just because).

A curled-up-on-the-couch-crying cake! Oh, wait, that was me. :D

*bathes your eyes tenderly with lavender water*
*saves extra cake for you*

I love your story -- I've experienced a bit of that in my town as well, though my connection to That Guy Everyone Knows is as an employee, not a wife. Coming from larger cities as I do, it's always a surprise to be identified through someone else like that.

Pounds and pounds of apricots! And mint! Oh, my. I wish we were close enough to effect some kind of swap, because don't you want some yummy peaches? What about fresh peanuts?

Oh, my god. Yes, Charm City Cakes is a Food TV show - it's called "Ace of Cakes," and it is awesome. SO awesome, in fact, that it is perfectly appropriate to be colloquial and call it "fucking awesome." I desperately want to work there, but I have no skillz.

I can't imagine that many people do have the sort of skillz that translate into a job at Charm City Cakes. They seem to be the pinnacle of cake achievement, one that only cake virtuosos can aspire to.

A girl can dream, though, right?

And you're never too old to live your dreams. It are fact; Dara Torres said it in an Olympic interview. Unfortunate that everyone's asking her about her age such that she needs to have a prepared statement like that, but that's another matter.

I did consider culinary school rather than grad school. Now I wish I'd done it.

Hey, you just said it -- go fill out that application, baby!

I think culinary school would be fabulous. Completely outside my own skill-set, but I kind of love to cook, even if I'm not very good at it.

Mood:gently homicidal

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I think you're living in my head.

It's a weirdly satisfying headspace to be in. :D

It's certainly nice to have the company. :D

YIPES! The neighbors! Didn't they notice that their house burned down?

mmm, caaaaake.

They did notice, the ones who were living there. But they aren't the homeowners -- now I'm wondering if the owners were ever notified! Surely they were!

Also: your icons always crack me up.

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