Monday, February 25, 2013

Can't cook, don't cook.

So....on Saturday night I was like, I'm going to make a Me cake, that is, a cake just for me. Don't panic, I don't have an eating disorder or anything. I've just never liked sharing, and it really ties in with one of my Resolutions to be more selfish.

We tend to think Resolutions should be about becoming a better person, or helping someone, but sometimes you've got to ask, 'What about me? What do I want?' And I wanted cake.

I set up a little baking station in front of the TV, so that I could continue to spend as much of my weekend as physically possible with Dexter. Did you know that it's really tricky to sieve flour from a height when you're watching one man kill another with a machete. It's like, I may be 25, but I'm still stumbling over these really important life lessons, such as 'Don't prepare food in the lounge,' and 'cracking an egg on the side of a bowl sometimes causes that bowl to be catapulted'.

Please learn from my mistakes.

ALSO, the scales were broken. But I thought to myself, is it possible that I'm such an experienced baker, I don't even need to measure things anymore? Could I be one of those people who simply feels their way around recipes. I mean I could start going around saying 'pukka' and write a freaking book. How exciting!!

Well it turns out that no, no, I can't be that person.

I'm so fucking distressed at what happened to my cake that I've put it in Roses tin, and left it on the hob.

Is that weird? So what if it's inedible? What harm will it do, to stay in that tin awhile pretending to be a great cake, that someone expertly created?

You know, the bits around the edges really aren't that bad, especially it you favour burnt toast.

THEN

I tried to change my duvet cover, and after like three times, I was so frustrated, and on top of the cake thing, and the fact that I'd only had 11 hours sleep, I allowed myself a brief, but satisfying cry.

DON'T JUDGE ME.

Remember what R.E.M said? Huh? Everybody hurts God dammit. Even really successful writers.

In fact, I'm pretty confident that they hurt more.

And to all you people who insist on putting your beautiful, culinary efforts on Facebook - NO ONE CARES.

You may think it makes you talented, but I think you'll find it's harder to leave a cake in the oven for two hours, and find it's still not cooked in the middle.

Eat that and like it.



Monday, February 18, 2013

5k February


The only resolution I'm getting on board with at all, is this 10k lark. I guess, overall, it's a positive move, but let me tell you, there are soooo many upsetting bits along the way. Par example:

You: So, yeah, I've signed up for a 10k.
Them: 10k? Why wouldn't you do a marathon?

As it turns out, EVERYBODY runs. Not only that, but they run faster, and further than you, and they've been doing it since infancy. So if one of the main reasons you're doing this is for recognition (pretty much the main motivating force in my life), give up now.

They don't respect treadmill runners. That's not proper running. And don't bother with sharing your injuries either, because unless you're torn something/passed out onto your face/been hit by a cyclist, you are nowhere near being in the game.

Some days you will feel truly energised and brilliant. Most days you will feel like shit.

ALSO

There are these three old nurses on my bus. This, I assume, as only one of them has a nurses outfit on. Ooh, but maybe it's an unlikely friendship between a nurse, a surgeon, and a cleaner, sweeping aside pay brackets to generate a pure, long standing example of friendship!! Probably not.

The point is, one of them doesn't have a voice. And it's this one who does most of the talking. I'm serious.

It's a little bit Batman, but less, just the grating rasp. I don't mean to be harsh here, because I guess someone's stolen her vocal chords (perhaps her best friend the surgeon!), but why would you insist on babbling on every day with your life story? I can't understand what she's saying, and maybe that's why the other two don't reply. It freaks me out. It's like searching for the right radio frequency every morning for fifteen minutes. THANKS.

The cats aren't dead! I thought it would cheer you to know. But I can't go near them any more because it turns out I'm allergic to cats. I've never been allergic before. But then again, I've never stolen two of them, and let them rub against everything in my home. So....I can't help but feel it's some kind of punishment. Like God disapproves of me stealing other peoples things?

Like duh, I'm just going to stock up on antihistamines, and nick them again. Nice try though.

Friday, February 08, 2013

All cats go to heaven

So....

In terms of all those unrealistic resolutions,  the one I'm most proud of violating, is the no alcohol one. You'll be pleased to know I violated it good and proper, on many occasions.

It's just that I use alcohol as a balm to paste over my shattered dreams, to fill in the ever-increasing crack between the life I want and the life I have, and most importantly, to make boring people instantly more interesting.

And no one can tell me that's wrong. No one.

ALSO

The cats. I know, I know. Shut up about the fricking cats. Well you should be ashamed of yourself, because the cats are dead. You know that old murderous line 'If I can't have you no one will', well that's exactly what's happened here. She's punished them for loving too much.

How do I know this?

Because I've been watching a lot of 'Dexter', making me an expert at sniffing out criminals, this peppered with catching five seconds here and there of 'The Mentalist', and having spent most of my childhood trying to get my brother to eat mud pies which would of most certainly killed him, that's how.

There were no cat prints in the snow.

Cats can't fly!

And thus, they are dead.

Please now have a respectful moment of silence.

ALSO

Filo pastry is a smug bitch. I don't get it AT ALL. I never thought I'd encounter something in my kitchen which pisses me off more than cellophane. Seriously, I just tried to take a sheet from the packet, and I had no idea what was happening. So, in much the same way I react to spiders, I slowly backed away, and respected its space.

ALSO

I had this voucher for like £25, and I spent it on Amazon, as was like 'Gosh, 25 whole pounds! Better treat myself to an electric toothbrush charger!' And then I looked at the receipt, and they've ignored the voucher which had expired, and just charged my card anyway.

HOW DO YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT?

If I'd know, that it wasn't free money, I never would've bought three pairs of winter socks, a Thunder Cats Yoyo, and The Wonder Years on DVD.

Amazon makes me sick.

Little update on my 10k progress; If any of you out there are thinking of using running to get skinny, forget it. it's not that I haven't lost a lot of fat, I have, just from my fingers. I'm pretty much exactly the same, except now I have to wear my rings on my necklace. If you're wondering what someone looks like when their head stays the same size, but their fingers turn to twigs, and they're running four times a week, please see  a recent photograph of me below.