cake kills

Sisters,

I’ve decided to apply for a position as a cake technician at a bakery in a suburb of Portland. This means:

It is 12:45pm, and I have spent the last 3 hours looking through Martha Stewart’s slideshows (or, the “Martha Files,” as I like to call them):

http://www.marthastewart.com/photogallery/halloween-cakes-and-dessert-recipes#slide_1

And reading articles about lifesized cakes created in the likeness of a 5-ft Texan bride:

 And finding really sad-looking photos of someone’s try at an armadillo cake:

 ...Really? An armadillo cake? Wait, don’t armadillos carry leprosy? See link below.

http://www.aaanimalcontrol.com/blog/armadillo-leprosy.htm

(Sidenote: at the MonDak Heritage Center I catalogued into our digital archives a thirty-year-old stuffed armadillo whose scales were crumbling. That’s how I heard they have leprosy. A visitor came downstairs with his two kids, pointed and said, “Look! An armadillo. Now, what disease do they carry?” and the kids shouted in unison “Leprosy!” News to me, but duly noted... and subsequently plugged into the item’s catalogue description.)

Needless to say, I've been doing research, getting caught up on the cake industry.

I made sugar cookies last night, resolving to frost them today. Which I did. This took 4 hours…For less than a dozen cookies. Hey, those cookies don't transform into carrots and garlic in the snap of a finger! (Nm, post photos later). Then I became furious at the fact that I don’t have any photos  -- because, I should explain, along with my resume, cover letter, and application, I want to have a portfolio to show to the folks at the Beaverton Bakery -- of any of the baked goods I have made in the past…the cheesecakes, the chocolate cakes, the cupcake bonanzas, none of it, really. Now I have to bake up and frost out the ass just to demonstrate my skills in photographs. 

As I was saying, furious. Frustrated by this for hours. So, I huffed off to the public library to read the local paper and cool down, only to realize in a moment of calm how utterly hilarious it was that I was visibly agitated by the lack of pastry pictures I have. Is this what my life has come to? Lamenting over my negligence of taking photographs of my baked goods? This is very sad. Maybe even more sad than this:

http://www.coolest-birthday-cakes.com/armadillo-cake.html

I don’t even know if I would LIKE this job…I mean, waking up every morning to do a half hour commute (probably), to get to work and decorate "celebration cakes" with balloons and confetti? That might be fun, for a while, but where’s the MEANING? And what am I supposed to do when I’m watching Jackie Warner,  and she’s telling me that cakes kill? 

So anyways, tomorrow I’m making cupcakes.

-J

p.s. No, that life-sized bride cake was not an Onion article: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-507390/Bride-wedding-cake-life-size-model-herself.html

Hi, I'm Kali, the Middle one

So, as the subject states, I am the middle sister. I am 25, recently married and moved way too far away from my family. My husband is in the military, so that explains the move. I am enjoying finding myself though, and finally "leaving the nest" because I feel like I was kind of the last one to do it, because I stayed so close to home through out most of my college life, except for grad school (that whole experience is another post for another day). Anyway, I also write a beauty blog which I will occasionally shamelessly plug, because I love doing it. I am also starting a beauty guru youtube channel, which is still in progress. It really is a lot of fun.

What else can I tell you about myself? I  LOOOOOVE dogs. We have a 3 year old boxer named Theo, he's kind of a menace but we love him very, very much. My older sister has a dog named Willis, he is beyond adorable and probably the sweetest dog on the planet. For someone to say they do NOT like Willis, is like saying they don't like Jesus;  you would immediately feel guilty for saying it.

Ok, that's all for now. This is just the "intro" post, I will try to post something new a few times a week.