Suzy Lee Revisited

I'm behind.  And I have four hundred things I want to write about.  First off, here is a picture from last week's cake decorating class.  I still have a ways to go, as you'll see from this week's pictures, but practice makes perfect, right?

Fast forward one week to tonight - class number three.  Three.  This is a four week course.  I am sitting here on the couch, peering into the kitchen at this week's cupcakes and thinking, "Those are not 'I've completed 3/4 of a cake decorating course' kinda cupcakes."  Well, apparently they are.  At any rate, I am having fun and this class has given me a reason to invest in proper cupcaking (yes, I did just say "cupcaking") tools.  And people.

I gave a girl my number tonight.  I am elated.  Rewind with me for a moment, and this will make more sense.  A good friend of mine has been known to walk up to other girls that she has observed from afar (in the most non-stalker sense of the word "observe"), and tell them she has a friend crush on them and would like to hang out.  Friend crush.  It makes sense.  Well, at least it does to me. And the kinds of people I surround myself with, apparently.  Anyway, there is this girl in my class who is basically me and I am entranced by the thought of another mungbean walking around this earth.  She is this small little Indian girl, made of curry and spice and everything nice, who initially appears to be quiet and demure but actually has much more fire and spunk than she lets on.  I saw through that veneer from a mile away as I am all too familiar with it.  Anyway, I asked if she planned on taking the second course and she replied that we should continue on our Wilton journey together.

There is something about wanting to be friends with someone and learning that they want you as their friend back that can turn the stormiest of days into May.

I called my parents after class because no one revels in sharing my elation as they do and I relayed to them all the details of my class and this new friend.  (I also called them because I needed help saying her name, but we're going to ignore that for the sake of this post) It reminded me of a kindergartener coming home from school, yammering on about having someone to sneak nibbles of play doh with.  Someone to share the crayons with.  Or piping bags.  Some delights in life may not ever go away.  Relationships.  People.  Creating new bonds and forging new things.  Together.  This time with the assistance of 7lbs. of buttercream.            

Walk with Me, Suzy Lee

I started a cake decorating class this past week.  I knew that I had been missing school.  There is something about freshly sharpened pencils and smell of a clean notebook that makes my heart go pitter patter in a way that nothing else can evoke.  However, I did not know exactly how much I had been missing school until the lady registering me for the class handed me a sheet of paper with the words "Class Syllabus" printed at the top and tears of joy started to pool in my eyes.  I couldn't stop telling the poor Michael's employee how excited and happy I was and I left shortly after sensing that she was on the verge of calling security.

Anyway, the first class went pretty well.  I showed up a  good twenty minutes early, apron securely fastened and bookbag in place, ready to start frosting.  I had procured every item on that school supply list, even just the frivolous ones deemed "optional"  (Yeah, that's not happening again now that I know I'll have a new list of supplies to obtain for each and every week.  Clearly Wilton is feeling the recession and is targeting unsuspecting fools like myself.).  The instructor had set little name cards around the table and it felt like walking into a grade school classroom.  However, instead of the walls being adorned with over-sized alphabets and bright colored animals exclaiming things like, "Learning is fun!" there were multi-layered cakes and cupcakes.  It was perfect and I felt completely in my element.

There are eight of us in the class - some could be grandmothers, a couple probably too young to know about pogs or slap bracelets, and a few scattered in the middle.  Somehow, despite there being girls significantly younger than me, I was "mi hija" to the instructor and the class now thinks my name is Mia.  Oh well.  Definitely not the first time this has happened.

So tomorrow I shall practice my newfound skills a bit.  As you can see from the picture below, we just went over the very very basics on cookies and I am in need of lots of practice.  Hopefully the cupcakes I'll be making tomorrow will provide me with enough miniature practice canvases to wow my teacher once I go back to class on Wednesday.  Either way, I am excited to try out a new recipe: lemon cupcakes with a blueberry basil filling. Happy Sunday, happy baking :)

  

let me have men about me that are fat

Sometimes I wish all my friends were psych majors.  Sometimes I wish life had a pause button.  Or an E-brake. Sometimes I wish didn't have writer's block.  And sometimes when the wishing gets wearisome I bake 253 cupcakes in one week.  Sometimes it doesn't work.