Shortcakes and Arrests

So, way to bring down the room with that last post, right? I wrote it and I even brought myself down. Therefore, today I shall post something fun so that we can equal out the fun to pitiful ratio I had going on. I was initially going to put up a story about Aunt Bev, because I know she is a fan favorite and we all love Aunt Bev. However, because I strayed waywardly emo with the last post, I decided to go off the beaten, every day path and share some rare stories from the past.

Before I start, I would like to share two separate things with you; one of which is kind of exciting, at least for me, and another in which is something I’m contemplating. All in all, each thing leads to a possible new path for me if I choose to take it. We shall see.

I don’t know how many of you know this, but I am in love with baking. I’m probably more in love with baking than I’ve been with any boy, including Friend. This is no offense to any boy in my life, it’s just that I know baking will leave me with a fulfilling and joyous feeling at the end. Unless the baking comes out badly, then I usually end up laughing about how I could manage to make something suck that bad. Sometimes they dogs won’t eat it. But I digress. The fact is, I love baking. Period.

For awhile, I’ve wondered what it would be like to have my own little business baking, because as a general rule, no matter how I feel, I am usually up for a little bit of baking. It gets my mind off of things. The problem with this half-baked plan, pun intended, is that you can’t use regular, every day recipes. You must come up with your own recipes and own products to sell. Otherwise, you’re just providing the consumer with something they can get anywhere, and who wants that?

In my baking, I am particularly obsessed with cupcakes. I even watch all the cute shows about cupcakes. Although not as crafty with the icing sculptures, I can make a mean cupcake...out of a mix. Since I’ve been home and had some down time, I decided that since baking products are fairly inexpensive and last awhile, I would make my own recipes from scratch by mixing together things that are usually used in cupcakes, just not together.

I can finally announce that the fruits of my labor are starting to pay off. I learned that once you get the right combination and right basic recipe, it’s easy to substitute the flavorful ingredients with other equally delicious ones. And it looks like I have a hit. I made my first mixture of three different things that aren’t usually used in the same cupcake, and everyone seems to love them. Understand, I am around people who would tell me they were gross and proceed to pitch them into the trash and not eat them. I don’t know many gentle people, which is good in this case. I was actually told without mentioning it that I should sale these. They’re even Greta Hayley approved and the same color as her, so I think they shall be called Greta Hayley Cakes. Did I mention Greta doesn’t normally like cupcakes?

I also have one icing mixture that is unlike any other icing out there that everyone else wondered how I came across figuring out to mix certain ingredients together, but everyone loves. (Hint: It was pure dumb luck of not realizing I didn't have all the ingredients I needed. Little accidents.) It’s super different, and although it wouldn’t be my favorite icing on the cupcakes I made today, I now know the basics for both my cupcakes and my icings, and have already figured out the other mixtures I want to try, and the amounts of ingredients I need for each. Naturally, not all the mixtures will be super tasty, and I do like my cupcakes to have a flavor explosion in your mouth, but some will come just right.

As soon as I have a few different mixes, I’m going to contemplate how to properly start a small cupcake business. I don’t want to open a shop, just make some from home that people can order for parties and the like. I think the best way to do this may be to take free samples to places like my chiropractor, who I am friends with, and similar places to share with others. I even considered taking a few dozen to the community my grandmother lived in. If nothing else, it will be a treat for the residents. I also should make some of my own business cards. I think this could be a fun experience and I’m excited to see where it takes me.

Another new venture that I’m debating is one in writing, because the only thing I love more than baking, is writing. Recently I found a website called Bella Petite. It’s for medium to short people like myself; 5’5 and under. I like to say I’m 5’6, but I am not. I’m 5’4 and some change. I try to wear shoes to negate this, but let’s be honest, I’m a shortcake. I loved their site and signed up for a user account, only to find that I would be receiving a free magazine subscription to Bella Petite Magazine just by doing so. I have a little obsession with magazines, I will admit, so this was probably the best thing ever.

In the email I got confirming that I signed up on the site, there was a place on the bottom that said they were looking for contributing writers. If interested, you are to send your resume. I am honestly thinking about doing this. It’s considered an internship, so I wouldn’t get paid, but I don’t care about the money. I think this would be something that would suite me, and a good way to get to do what I love; write, while also working on my novel.

The only issue I have is that I don’t have a college degree due to being sick and unable to attend college. I also do not have any work experience in writing, other than being a receptionist at a counseling office for a friend. Even though I wrote well over fifty papers for him, I don’t count that because I was only helping him as a friend, and was not an official employee.

I am going to think this over a little more, but I think the best thing I can do is admit up front that I don’t have a college degree or work experience, but in a creative way. I can write a one page resume of my own kind, telling about the haphazard issue of my health’s disagreement with me, and why I think I would be an asset to the company, regardless. I would do it in a funny, entertaining way, giving them a taste of my writing skills, which I think would be an excellent resume, although unconventional. I could also link them over here to the blog, and to my fashion blog.

In this case, it’s the best I can do. If they like getting a sample of my writing without the traditional resume, then they like it. If they don’t, I think I sent them the best representation of myself as a person and as a writer, and that’s okay. As they always say, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Now, let’s get started on those stories of days passed, shall we?

There are times where I am reminded of stories from yesteryear. And by yesteryear, I mean more than two or three years ago. It’s about time I pull out the random, the ridiculous, and the stories that have nothing to do with one another to share with all of you.

Several years ago I worked at Lowes and befriended a girl who, for the life of me, has a name that I can not remember. For the sake of all things easy to understand, I will call her Amenna. Mostly because I know her name was either Amanda or Jenna, but I can’t remember which. I'm leaning toward her name being Jenna and her friend's Amanda, but I'm not sure. Sad, right?

One night after work, I was visiting Amenna’s house. She asked me if I had every played Dance, Dance revolution. I had not. She went looking for the pads, only to realize her brother must have taken them to the next door neighbors' house to play with the neighbor boy. She said that was okay, because we’d just go get them.

We walked over to the house and she didn’t bother to knock on the door. She simply went inside. It was really nice to see neighbors who were good friends; good enough friends that she could just walk into their house at anytime she wanted. Seeing how she had expressed that it was often she would end up with the neighbor's stuff, and they would end up with their stuff via her brother and his friend, I didn’t think this was weird. I thought they came and went as they pleased.

It wasn’t until after we were in there and she shoved me in a closet and followed behind me when someone came by, that I realized something was wrong. It wasn't until after she dragged me down the stairs, into the son’s room, found the pad, and pulled me out the basement door and out of the house, that she explained to me that her brother was welcome to come in and out as he pleased, but the neighbors hated her. Basically, we had just broken into someone’s house, me not even knowing we had done it. I felt so bad ass. Then, for the next week, I instantly hid every time I heard cop cars.

When I was around twelve, my mom put me into a daycare called Kindercare. For those who attended this place, it was known as Hell. The teachers didn’t watch the kids or reprimand them when they did something wrong. Unfortunately, our next door neighbor was one of the teachers and then became the head honcho of Kindercare while I was there, which is maybe why I have a slight disposition to being all cheery, cheery with her.

While I was there, I was pantsed by some kid who was popular at my school and a football player. His parents had money, so when he went around and pantsed several girls on the same day, the teachers did nothing. By nothing, I mean they pretended like it never happened. I, of course, told my mom this had happened, as this is completely mortifying at twelve, or pretty much at any age. My mom went to Kindercare and complained. They told her plainly that they weren’t going to do anything about it. My mom told me to stand up for myself if it happened again.

About a week later, I was at Kindercare and the kid pantsed me again. I punched him. I knocked the kid backwards and out cold. I got in trouble, me, with my pants around my ankles, whereas he did not. Although I don’t believe violence is the answer, I do not regret that punch. He never pantsed another girl after that and not another word was spoke about it. My friends and I also didn't get harassed by any of the other kids that liked to bully us. Sadly, it was kind of a win.

In truth, this is about as bad ass and I’ve ever been, and probably ever will be. Hopefully. Although my sign indicates I am most likely to get arrested. For what? Jaywalking. Because that’s the worst thing I do.

And can I do something that I never do and go off topic? By never, I of course mean all the time. I don't know how many of you have seen the recent show, Fact or Faked: Paranormal Files but the whole being arrested thing reminded me of a funny little moment on that show. They were investigating this video that has spread around the internet like wildfire. While doing this, they were replicating the police chase, so they asked their stunt expert, Austin, to ride in the police car with the cop. When he went to get in the car, he immediately got in the back. The cop laughed and told him that he wasn't in trouble, so he should get in the front. Without even a moment's pause, he goes, "Sorry, bad habit."

Anyone saying that is just funny, especially when you learn that this kid graduated with a major in biology and is a major geek in the good way. Anyone seeing him on this show would pretty immediately laugh for this reason. Most likely, the worst thing he's ever done is jaywalk as well, but hey, I don't know him, so I could be wrong.

Oh, and the answer to that video is that the car managed to drive under the fence, believe it or not, because two of the reams were loose on it. They were able to replicate it. Nothing paranormal there, folks.

Okay, back to yesteryear.

Long, long ago, back in the day when I was still young enough to be considered cute, my biological aunt rescued raccoons. Most of them were babies whose mothers had been hit by a careless car forgetting to slow down while cruising the streets. I was fortunate enough to get to spend time with these raccoons and learn that they are sweet, loving animals, and the only reason they come across so mean in the wild is because we are encroaching on their territory.

I got to help her raise a gaze of raccoons, and I learned something very special about one of them. His name was Zeke and he was a hairdresser. Well, he thought he was, anyway. You would be sitting there minding your own, when his cute little face would peak around the couch, and before you knew it he was all up in your business. He was licking his paws and parting your hair six ways from Sunday. It took him a good ten or fifteen minutes, but when he was finished with you, he would run around your front and check you out. If he was happy with the job he did, he'd get this look on his face that counted as a non-verbal self pat on the back. If he was not happy, he'd race back up behind you and fix your hair some more. And that's how I got my hair did by a raccoon.

Last but not least, I’d like to tell you one of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard that didn’t actually happen to me. I am so jealous that this didn’t happen to me. So jealous, because it involves two of my favorite things, gay guys and purses. When my friend told me this story, she indicated it was about an Asian guy and a purse. She also said it was the best thing ever. This was a pretty tall order to fill, but fill it she did.

She was attending an event having to do with football and band at a rival school, when this guy walks by. He’s Asian, has dyed red hair, eyebrow and ear piercings, is wearing a purple button down shirt, black slacks, and was carrying a little white leather purse over his shoulder. Do not adjust your eyes. It was, as she said, the most amazing thing she’d ever seen, which made me instantly jealous that I was not there and that she didn’t take any pictures.

If that weren't enough, later in the evening, she and her friend had made their way into the bleachers, when who comes along? You guessed it, the Asian guy with the purse. Only this time, the purse was gone. As he proceeds to pass by, the mom behind my friend goes “Oh look, he lost his purse.” It was nowhere to be seen. Excuse me while I end this blog to go laugh. Every time I hear this story, I break into a new set of hysterics.