Saturday, July 22, 2006

Baggage
So Lucile, Gypsy and I have been having a conversation abut baggage.
Drew left me with some baggage, and he also left a lot of his shit around my house when I told him it was time to go. A stupid mutt that he finally claimed and I had to deliver to him, 2 really awful cats that he left here for months as well, a piece-o-shit car that we have thought about throwing on the bonfire every year - but it's too toxic to burn.

I just used one thing that he left behind that I thought would never be useful to me, but after holding onto it for 5 years, lo and behold, I used it. It's a Pampered Chef cake tester. A fancy piece of thin metal with a handle. I thought toothpicks always worked just fine, or a quick poke with a finger. I just discovered how necessary this device is since I am baking a Princess Cake for my neice Andrea's birthday party which is tomorrow at my house. She is five, going on 25.

The Princess Cake is very deep, and takes a while to bake in the special pan from the wizards of cakery - Wilton. I hop up every 3 minutes to see if the obnoxious timer on my oven can make it get bake faster so that I can turn the oven off. At least it is cooler outside than inside, unlike during the cookie-baking madness that took place for SJ's fundraising when it was 106 F outside. I tried to figure out how to bake cookies on the grill, but I didn't want to sit next to the grill all afternoon, searing my flesh and chainsmoking.

Drew left behind some other useful things....towels that get used for really nasty messes (dog puke and such, not emotionally nasty messes), his wedding albums from his life with SHE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED. We actually referred to her as Voldemort. I recently threw them in the trash, and felt horrible guilt about it until the girlfriends told me not to worry. If he wanted his damn wedding albums, he could've taken them when he took his stuff along with some of my things that the weasledick borrowed permanently. He also left me with a great sense that I will not put up with bullshit. At least in theory.

So pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag and smile, smile, smile.
posted by Rosie @ 7/22/2006 08:49:00 AM

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