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):
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.
(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:
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
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