The Cake of Death: #27.

 Posted by at 6:12 pm  Fun with Food, SGIKS
Apr 282010
 

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on this day in history, 1983

I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday. For a multitude of reasons. Only two blends knew it was that special day of the year, and I felt like I could get away with keeping things under wraps if I threatened them in order to not tweet anything. [thanks ladies.]  I didn’t want to get a billion birthday tweets and notifications on my blackberry of said birthday tweets. This seems ridiculous, I know. As one of the blends pointed out, I should be happy to celebrate me for one day of the year and other people may want to celebrate me too.

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 on this day in THS history, 1987

I personally think I celebrate myself A LOT of the time. I’m selfish and spoiled and I like myself more now than I ever have before. Oh, and I’m not afraid to say that. So, yeah – I celebrate myself a lot.

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 on this day in THS history, 1988

I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday. Because I feel really far away from a lot of the people I love. I was afraid that if I took time to fully acknowledge my birthday, I would become even more homesick. And by home I mean Denton, and Madison, and Beaumont (ugh. Did I just say that?), and even places I haven’t lived before, like St. Paul. And The Woodlands. and places I’ve never even visited before, like Denver. And Mankato. The places where the people that most make me feel like home now reside. And I was scheduled to work a double. And I didn’t have anything fun to wear. Or any afterword plans to look forward to, other than my bed and SATC on DVD.

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on this day in THS history, 1992

I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday. I didn’t want to say “thank you” and not actually mean it. I didn’t want to sit in sadness. I didn’t want to be happy for the sake of others. I wanted to be selfish and avoid this all by just pretending like my birthday didn’t exist.

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on this day in THS history, 1995

Of course, I would still eat a treat with my co-workers. I would still get text messages from my family and closets friends. Those that knew that today was the day would leave me wall posts, and voicemails, and sweet, kind words. [thank you.] I would still KNOW I was a year older. But I removed my birthday setting from facebook and I BEGGED my two in-the-know blends to keep their twitter mouths shut. Even though they probably thought I was being foolish and maybe a tad dramatic.

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 on this day in THS history, 1997

So, I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday. But the truth is, I did. I just wanted to celebrate it on my own.

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on this day in THS history, 2000

I have been receiving birthday gifts and cards in the mail for a week and have been keeping them in a pile on my correspondence table – saving them for today. Using every bit of willpower not to break the ribbons, unwrap the packages and delight in what my loved ones sent me. I have been saving them for my own personal celebration. Saving them so I could squeeze all the joy of my own special day into a condensed amount of space.

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 On this day of THS history, 2002

Yesterday my co-workers threw me a surprise luncheon pizza & trivia party. I figured something was up about 10 minutes before the “unveiling” because my boss Jen was acting sneaky. I sent a panicked message to a friend who reminded me I should probably just settle down and enjoy it. She was right. So I did.

image picnic on this day in THS history, 2003

There was singing. There was my face turning red. There was pizza. There was ice cream treat. There was trivia. And it was all good.

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on this day in THS history, 2005

Last night I was visiting my second home the coffee shop and suddenly realized that I wanted a special cake for my birthday. Not an ice cream cake, or a bakery cake, or even a beloved cookie cake.

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on this day in THS history, 2006

I wanted a cake that took time (but not too much time.) And effort. (but not too much effort.) And made me feel like I was pouring 26 years of memories into the batter. I wanted to stir away the last 365 days of 26 as I made a mental list of what I wanted to accomplish during my 27th year.

24on this day in THS history, 2007

I wanted a cake I could be proud of. I wanted to spread frosting of emotions over the lightly browned surface. I didn’t want a mediocre cake; I wanted an extraordinary cake. Then, I wanted to light a candle for myself, make a wish, and open my presents.

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on this day in THS history, 2008

I did a quick search for a recipe for the best carrot cake ever and I found THIS recipe. I quickly scribbled on a post it note the ingredients I knew I didn’t have at home. I did not write down any amounts. I did not read through the recipe. I just scribbled, packed my bag, and headed to the market.

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On this day in THS history, 2009

This is how the baking of the death cake happened:

-The recipe clearly states that the cake takes “2 Hrs 30 Min”. I didn’t read this. I don’t know that I would have cared had I have read it, but I didn’t read it. I’ve never made a homemade carrot cake before, so I had no idea what was involved. I didn’t read it. I admit that I am a rookie.

-The recipe calls for 6 cups of grated carrots. Do you know how long it takes to grate enough carrots to reach 6 cups? Did I mention I only have a hand grater? Did I mention that it’s not even a box grater? Just this one sided cheese grater type thing with a handle. In case you weren’t aware – it takes a LONG TIME to get 6 cups. I probably spent about 40 minutes grating. (then again, I was tweeting after every third carrot)

-The recipe calls for 1 cup crushed pineapple, drained. Oh. This tricky beast. Draining crushed pineapple with the one pasta strainer this single girl has in her kitchen was also a FUN game. I ended up figuring out a way to get rid of the most liquid, but it wasn’t pretty. I was covered in juice and crushed pineapple was FLYING all over my tiny kitchen. It was as if said pineapple had become flubber and had a mind of it’s own.

-The recipe calls for some other stuff too. But the debate on posting other peoples recipes is similar to the debate about downloading media with out paying for it, and also turning in a book report that you copied from the internet. So I’m going to tell you to go here to look at what else the recipe calls for, because I don’t want anyone sewing me for all I’m worth (read: about $5 –which may or may not be less than the price of the ingredients in this cake).

-The recipe reads, “In a medium bowl, combine grated carrots and brown sugar. Set aside for 60 minutes, then stir in raisins.” OK. Read that again. No really. Read that again. AN HOUR!?!?!? Twitter friends suggested that I probably didn’t need to let it sit for an hour.

Thanks, people. Sincerely, thank you. I am clearly a rookie and I truly appreciate your advice on the topic. If I were making this cake for the sake of making a cake I would probably listen to you and continue on my merry way of preparing the batter after 10 minutes. But I’m trying to make the BEST carrot cake ever. This is special single birthday cake. IT NEEDS TO BE THE BEST. I want those carrots saturated with sugar. (also, this allowed to me get a head start on other ingredients and also do some work on my annual “While I was XX” list in my elusive green book. “While I was 26” is quite the interesting list in comparison to “While I was 25.”)

-The recipe calls for two 10 inch cake pans. Two 10 inch cake pans? I know I have two same sized cake pans somewhere. They may be 9-inch. Are they 8 inch? They could be 10-inch. I need to find my measuring tape. Here’s one. Searching. Searching. Searching. Still searching. Can I use pie pans? Hmmm… searching. Searching.,….And the other. LIGHTBULB. Blarg!!! The other is at the OFFICE. THE OFFICE!?!? Argggggggggg. Ok. What can I do about this? I can cook it in a baking DISH 9×13 style…but I REALLY wanted this cake to be on my little cake stand. It’s extraordinary. Umm..OH! I have this old spring form Bundt pan from my boss Jen. And a few mini Pyrex dishes. I will just make the Bundt cake for the office and the mini cakes for home. YEAH! Crisis averted.

-The recipe gives you a bunch of steps (which you can read here) which leaves you with three bowls of mixtures, which you are about to combine together, and pour evenly into prepared pans. Um. Yeah. I also failed to read the REVIEWS on the recipe. As in, every person who says “this is a HUGE CAKE” – I didn’t see until AFTER the cake was in process. Nice work, self. The recipe also suggests you use a large bowl for combining these mixtures. I don’t have a LARGE mixing bowl, so after I used all three of my medium-good sized mixing bowls to hold the three different mixtures, I blended them together in – wait for it – the large pot part from my giant crock pot. Yes. My kitchen is stocked like non-other.

-The recipe gives cooking time based on the aforementioned two 10 inch cake pans. Because I made a gigantic Bundt cake rather than the two 10-inch pans, I ended up baking for like 75 minutes (the mini cakes were done in about 25). So that was fun.

Then there was the icing. OH MY GOD THE ICING IS SO GOOD. I used my own good sense and avoided a recipe from anywhere but my own head. I beat the following together:

8 oz cold cream cheese
5 TB margarine, softened
2 tsp vanilla
1.5 c powdered sugar, sifted.

Seems harmless and easy, right? Only, you’ll never guess the good fortune of my sifter. Yeah. I got it at a garage sale for a dime. Want to know why it cost a dime? It is SUPER old and doesn’t actually work. I probably spent about 40 minutes sifting the damn sugar, too.

-Before I frosted, of course, I tried to remove the cake from the pan. It was not cool. And I don’t just mean it wasn’t epic, awesome, or hanging mad fresh style. I mean it was still very warm. I didn’t care. It was 2:30 in the morning. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t caring. I just wanted that damn cake on the cooling rack sans pan. And so I released the spring form. All good. Then I tried to lift off the top. Yeah. That didn’t work. Apparently I didn’t spray it well enough because 1/2 of the top of the cake stuck to the pan.
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-To fix the issue of the no longer intact Bundt cake, I tried to level it. While it was STILL hot, because you know, I don’t LEARN lessons. And then I started tearing crying sobbing when the cake fell apart. Then I left it alone. Put the frosting in the fridge and went to bed. At 3:00 AM. Four and one half hours after I started this silly extraordinary project for the sake of my own personal celebration.

-I woke up at 6:30 and got to work “fixing it”. I made the Bundt SHORTer. (like half sized) and frosted that part for work. Then I took the half of the top that wasn’t messed up and made a carrot cake sandwich, with cream cheese icing in the middle, then frosted the top of that and wrapped it up.

Then I made a layered cake with the mini cakes. And that one is just adorable. I frosted the layer, the top and the sides. I added a candle. I  took photos. [because that’s what some bloggers do.]

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As for the 1/4 of a cake that was crumbled – it’s sitting in Tupperware on my counter. I plan to eat it with ice cream. Or yogurt. Or oatmeal. Or just a big old slab of frosting.

My last name may be Shugarman, but I’m starting to doubt my baking abilities. I used to think I was a GREAT baker. Especially when it came to cupcakes. This cake STRESSED ME OUT. To no end. But it is SO DELICIOUS. It was SO WORTH my time and tears and pacing and cursing and lack of sleep. SO WORTH IT. There is a reason it has 4.75 stars and is title “Best Carrot Cake Ever.”

I’m eating it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. FOR SURE.

Well. At least, that was the plan. Then I arrived at the office to find that my boss Jen had baked Carrot Cake cupcakes in my honor. My cake remains at my desk, in a carrying case. Adorable, and ready to be shared. But it will wait until tomorrow.

Yet I have to argue that the cupcakes Jen made, from a box mix, are definitely in the running for “Best Carrot Cake Ever.” Made with love to make me feel like home and extra special on the anniversary of my birth.

What more could I ask for?

Secrets.

 Posted by at 8:37 pm  Weight Loss
Apr 252010
 

 

I never really thought I had a problem.
I’ve always thought it was something I could control.
I still have an issue with even hinting that this is some sort of “disorder.”  Or an “issue.” Or any thing other than just a secret. But that’s the key right there.  It’s been a secret.

For some reason, in my mind, saying that my bad habits are an ED, seems like a cop-out. An excuse. A way for me to give up the responsibility of my actions and just say I need to be treated.  [of course, when other people share their stories of EDs, I don't think these things about them. At all.  I am just my own worst critic, I suppose.]  So I’ve never thought of this habit, this secret as any kind of Eating Disorder, although others might, and that’s okay. For me, at this point, it’s just something that needs to change – no matter if it has a diagnosis or not.

I don’t remember exactly when these habits formed.

I do remember certain instances.
I remember sneaking a dove milk chocolate covered ice cream bar from the freezer into my bed, the bottom bunk of a set of bunk beds I shared with my sister.  I couldn’t have been much older than 8, and at the time I was a thin little thing.  Always tall for my age, my body was long and lean leading my nickname from my paternal grandmother to become “Skinny Minny”. The chocolate was rich, and smooth, and I no doubt made a mess, smearing it all over my face as most children would do with such a secret treat.

I enjoyed each nibble of the chilled vanilla ice cream, with blankets pulled over my head.  I licked that stick clean, and then I hid it inside of the wrapper, which I believe I then slid underneath my pillow case. 

I remember getting caught.  My parents asking me about it, and my confirmation that yes, Mothers really do know all.  But I don’t remember much else. I don’t remember their exact reaction to my having done it, nor do I remember ever having any kind of conversation regarding my desire to hide the food. I’m sure I received some sort of discussion on taking what’s not mine, but not about that actual crime to my relationship with food that was taking place. And why would that have been addressed?  Back then, I had a fine relationship with food.  I ate what I was fed.  That’s what I remember.

It wasn’t like it happened from then on out.  I don’t remember any other specific times of sneaking food within my parents’ house.  In high school I ate in front of people without a problem. There was no need to hide.  The same goes for my time in college.  I had no problems eating any sort of food in front of my hall mates, or friends. I ate meals in the dining halls and cafes on campus, and occasionally late nights at Perkins with my closest friends while we studied procrastinated. I was never sneaking packages from vending machines or hiding leftovers to chow down on in a secret place.  I was comfortable with food, and fairly comfortable with myself. That’s what I remember.

The thing about a childhood nickname such as “Skinny Minny” is that once
the child out grows the “skinny” (no pun intended), she notices the change in nickname choice. She notices when she is no longer referred to with such a name. She notices when she looks into the mirror and thinks that maybe instead, they should be calling her “Large Marge” or “Flabby Gabby.” 

Though I stayed fairly thin throughout middle school and even my freshmen year of high school, at some point during my sophomore year I started putting on a bit of weight; probably only 10 pounds or so, but there was a little bit of a difference.  My junior and senior years of high school, I no longer played 3 seasons of sports, and I definitely “ballooned” a bit. In college I’m sure I put on more weight as well, but more so my sophomore year than my freshmen year. Until recently I couldn’t ever remember what I weighed in high school or college, or even the years immediately following – but not too long ago I came across my medical records and noticed that I did gain weight. Throughout high school I gain a total of about 20 pounds and another 10 in college.  But then something changed.  The secret appeared.

I am ashamed now, as I tell you this.  It was a secret for a reason.

I don’t remember ever really thinking these habits were bad, or even habits, at the time. I would drive through to pick up dinner for me and my youth ministry partners on nights we were working late up at the church.  I would order for each of us, and then I would order an extra value menu item – or sometimes two- to eat in-between the drive thru and the church, where I would then proceed to eat my meal with my friends. My non-secret meal. Another sandwich, a side of fries, and a soda- or especially back then, an energy drink.

There was always a bag for excess “secret” garbage underneath my driver’s seat in my car.  Crumbled up jr. bacon cheeseburger wrappers, or the remnants of a sweet and sour packet inside of the cardboard box the nuggets came in.

Sometimes I would leave the church to head home very late at night, 2 or 3 in the morning and drive through for another two dollars’ worth of food to comfort me on the drive home. I have NO IDEA what I was being comforted from, but I know that I felt better with the cheeseburger, happier with the fries, satisfied with the frosty.

I would order the foot long sub telling myself I would save half for later, and that would never happen.

I would ALWAYS order extra.  I would ALWAYS stuff myself.  I would ALWAYS do it without thinking. I would ALWAYS only do these things when I was alone.  It was just something I did.

Which is probably why in four years, I gained another FIFTY POUNDS.

Ok, let me just back up for a second.  I never actually did this math until RIGHT NOW.  Ever.  Even when I started losing weight, I never really thought about how much I gained, what I put on or how out of hand I had let things get.  I knew how much I wanted to loose, but because, again, up until recently, I didn’t ever remember what I had weighed in high school in college, I just chose a “goal weight” during my weight loss based on BMI Calculators and what I thought was healthy for my height. 

Now, however, having my medical records and looking at those numbers listed under weight, I realized that from the time I moved to Texas to the time I moved to New York, I gained FIFTY POUNDS. I knew I was getting bigger- but I had no idea.  I was ignorant to it. I didn’t always notice the changes.  I know that Express pants from my sophomore year of college no longer fit me for several years.  I know that some of my shirt purchase went from large to x-large. I know that when I bought pants, I bought a size bigger- but it didn’t bother me much.  I knew I needed to lose weight to be healthy.  I knew I was, what I deemed “fat”.  But I’m not sure I ever knew how big I was, or what a change I had made.  I wasn’t aware of what my secret behaviors were doing to me. 

Then the numbers started to decrease.
I’ve shared the story of my weight loss before when I spoke about my experience with Spark People.

The morning of the broken engagement, I weighed in at 20 pounds lower than my highest weight ever.
In September, the date of the wedding that wasn’t, I weighed another 19 pounds lower.
Then I got comfortable.
I stopped counting calories.
I stopped logging work outs.
I felt proud(ish). Even though I had more to lose.

For the past 7 months I have floated, in-between a 5 pound mark.  back and forth, not really caring. Even though I know I have more to lose. I’m not at a “healthy weight” according to what a doctor would tell me. I’m not at my goal weight, even though I’m not REALLY sure what my goal weight is, but I would definitely like to feel BETTER about myself.

My about me section says “I’m still working on becoming fit and working towards my goal weight, and my fitness milestones.”  I would like this to be true, but I don’t feel like it has been true.  At least not lately.

A few months ago the secret eating started again.
Driving through Burger King on my way home from the mall, for a value menu fix. But I’m a “healthy living blogger” now.  Why am I driving through?  Even though I ate dinner.  Even though I wasn’t hungry.

Choosing Chinese food from the food court rather than a veggie delight from Subway, or heaven forbid, packing my own dinner. But I’m a “healthy living blogger” now. Why aren’t I packing Hugh Salads and precut vegetables?  

Wendy’s nuggets. In my car. When I’m running errands. Not because I’m hungry, but because I WANT them.

Subway, way way way way too often. Not always the “good” options.  A lot of times that damn meatball sub. But I’m a “healthy living blogger” now. And a self-proclaimed flexitarian. Why am I eating meat so often?

Cookies. Candy. Ice cream.  BBQ kettle chips. Icees. An occasional “everything in moderation” soda.  I’m pretty sure when I thought everything in moderation was a good idea, I wasn’t thinking about eating a moderate amount of everything in the snack aisle.

And NOTHING goes on the blog. NOTHING is shared with anyone. Nothing is eaten in the presence of a friend, or even considered as consumed. EVERYTHING is in secret.  Hidden. Away. Fulfilling some need I don’t even realize that I have.  To fill some sort of void.  To make me feel better. To cover something up.

I hate my stomach.  I hate my arms. I hate the way I feel weak and like a failure instead of strong and powerful.  I hate that I dread work outs and cooking and reaching goals which I know will make me healthier and therefore happier.

I hate that I love operation beautiful and yet I hear myself nitpick parts of my body just about every day.  I post several notes each week, yet I tell myself that my face is fatter than it was last fall.  I used to feel GOOD when I looked into the mirror, and now I just want to cover everything up.  Hide under a blanket. Eat an ice cream bar. And a double cheeseburger. And maybe some nachos. Or cheese fries. But definitely not an apple.

I hate all of it because I know that making healthy decisions is EASY.  And that I am just making it hard. Hard on myself and harder than it really is. It’s easy. I know that. I’ve lived it. I’ve made progress and now I find myself sitting in the same place. The same secret place.

Now that I have told you, I know it’s over.
Now that the secret is out.
Now, things are different.

From the moment I shared these thoughts with Julie, I haven’t eaten anything in secret.  No drive through trips, or value menus, or wrappers hiding. I have, however, eaten one too many meals that others have prepared.  People that are paid to prepare them.  Lunch out on the town, and day after day, dinner consisting of leftovers.  Meals with normal serving sizes where I stop when I’m full, yet it needs to stop.  It’s unnecessary and a waste of time, effort, and money. I need to control what goes into my body.  I need to control this situation.  I need to not live in secret. I need to make one healthy decision, and then make another.

The secret is out. Now you know. I fear judgment. I fear people I know in real life laughing at me because of this.  I fear snarky comments and harshness about the grossness of it all.  But mostly, I fear that if I don’t come clean that it will continue, and I won’t change, and the secret will stay a secret.  No longer.  It’s out. It’s over. The end.

Water to Wine

 Posted by at 6:03 pm  101 in 1001
Apr 242010
 

kind of fitting that the day I choose to document my reading The Bible and drinking wine for the 101 in 1001 list, I was also rocking my “Jesus is my Homeboy” shirt, no?

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I thought it was fitting to share this passage of Jesus turning water into wine.  This is from The Message Remix, which is known as “The Bible in contemporary language.”  I really liked to use The Message Remix when teaching small groups in youth ministry, because it is often easier for teenagers to relate to, and also the language is a lot of fun. BIG THANKS to my twitter friend, Courtney, who typed up the Remix version for me while I was away form home and working on this post! This passage is from John 2:1-10.

Three days later there was a wedding in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there. Jesus and his disciples were guests also. When they started running low on wine at the wedding banquet, Jesus’ mother told him, “They’re just about out of wine.”

Jesus said, “Is that any of our business, Mother — yours or mine? This isn’t my time. Don’t push me.”

She went ahead anyway, telling the servants, “Whatever he tells you, do it.”

Six stoneware water pots were there, used by the Jews for ritual washings. Each held twenty to thirty gallons. Jesus ordered the servants, “Fill the pots with water.” And they filled them to the brim.

“Now fill your pitchers and take them to the host,” Jesus said, and they did.

When the host tasted the water that had become wine (he didn’t know what had just happened but the servants, of course, knew), he called out to the bride-groom, “Everybody I know begins with their finest wines and after the guests have had their fill brings in the cheap stuff. But you’ve saved the best till now!”

Just incase you’re new around these parts – I believe in a Jesus that goes against the grain of what every one else is doing.

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Since it would seem that this blog is nothing more than a way to cross something off a list I wrote almost 16 months ago, I’ll leave you with some points of note.

  • I did not run my race this morning. Turns out my car was not drivable. But, the situation is being handled and by Monday afternoon I should be in tip top driving shape again. [damn you weekend!]
  • Sharpie does not come off of skin as easily as you would think, which is noted by the faint “33:48” still taking up space on my left hand at the moment.  Tomorrow morning I am going to be trying to gain a new 5K PR while running in the inaugural Then Heather Said 5K, that the wonderful Alicia reminded me was taking place this weekend (she thought it was today, but she was just confused) ;)
    alicia
  • In case you missed my mentioning this on Twitter a billion times in the last four weeks, my Best Friend had a baby.  I am uber excited to get to meet said baby at the end of May.  [also uber excited to hug the mama.] You should go look at this beautiful girl, because truly, who doesn’t want to see a cute photo of a baby?
  • Have an upcoming work out that you are dreading? For the love of all things good and holy, GO DOWNLOAD GYMNERTAINMENT. [you can also read my review of it here. ]
  • Knock, Knock.

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