Ok, this is just a tiny post so whomever sees this might be able to give me feedback.

I’m going to be making changes to the formatting and appearance of this blog, and it’s going to shift a little bit towards recipes and other advice or what the fuck ever.

who knows

But anyway, if you see this at any time and have suggestions for me, please let me know.

Ok, that’s all for now. But stay tuned for a recipe for lemon shortbread cookies with lavender cream cheese frosting.

It’s three days into the new year.
The snow has finally descended upon us.
The Christmas gifts have been opened and deemed worthy.
The year has been greeted and challenged.

And I, have gotten the sniffles.

Folks, I cannot tell you how much it fills me with rage that I have gotten sick this week.

For one, it sucks because my voice sounds like an 80 year old 2-pack-a-day smoker named Ethel who gets mistaken for her husband, Earl, every time she calls her children to try and reconnect.

For two, because I can’t breathe well through my nose, my senses are all kinds of thrown off. Coffee smells weird and metallic-ey, like the blood from a freshly killed barista.

And now I can’t taste things properly because like 97%, or some equally large number, of tasting things comes from the ability to smell them. I eat what I think to be some delicious chicken and rice? It becomes a struggle to get down the sand-flavored nonsense in my mouth.

Being sick sucks.

Being sick and being a baker? A true challenge.

Earlier this week, my manager at work tells us that her eldest daughter is getting married on Friday. I hadn’t even known she was engaged. But who am I to pay attention to other people’s lives? I hardly notice my own. Apparently, I have a blog. Who knew?

The point here is, said manager then asked if I would like to make a cake for the reception. Like, an actual cake. A genuine, to be consumed post-ceremony baked dessert. Three tiers of congratulations.

And she wanted me to make it? Holy shit.

She also is going to pay me for it.

So, I made it.

First let me tell you.  I made bank this holiday season. My family celebrates Christmas like the good Christians my mother is. My mother, she works so hard to instill the right values within her children. She works to make sure that our Christmases are not filled with commercialized values and centralized gifts.

My brother’s girlfriend? She did not get this message.

Oh man, the things she convinced my brother to get me this year. If Jake ever breaks this off, I’ll marry her just to keep her in the family. (sidenote: if Jake or Sandra ever actually find this, please note that I love you both so very much and that I really really really appreciate all the thought and monetary value that went into my presents this year and I hope that one day I can repay you for all of the effort you have put into me.)

Anyhoo! The point is, I got a KITCHENAID

A MOTHERFUCKIN BRIGHT GREEN ARTISAN KITCHENAID STANDING MIXER.

THIS MOTHERFUCKER RIGHT HERE

I haven’t named it yet, but rest assured that it is for sure as much a part of my family as my far right toe is.

The thing you see to the left of that mixer? That is the wedding cake

As per request from the bride, it is a vanilla (bean) cake with a cream cheese (italian meringue buttercream) frosting.

The words in the parentheses are the fancy shit I did with the cake because her requests were rather boring and her mother wanted a bit of a step up.

The “G” is white chocolate in the shape of the intended couple’s new last name. Covered in gold luster dust of course. Because why the fuck not.

Anyway. Happy new year all you five people who read this. And know that I am pulling for you this year.

I don’t really have resolutions for myself aside from treat myself a little better, because the more I live the more I realize that I don’t have to put up with so much of my own shit, and you shouldn’t either.

Either way, I love you all and I hope you have a great new year.

And if you have a cake you need made for you, feel free to reach me at RNKeleny@gmail.com.

 

When I was younger I always thought it was weird that everyone in Friends (the TV show in case you don’t like pop culture) would spend every Thanksgiving with each other and not with their families. Like, somehow, out of these six people none of them have family traditions or obligations they have to get to? Joey has a huge family! He has 6 sisters! I find it hard to believe he–

You know? This is so not what this post is supposed to be about.

But if you want, I will absolutely post a breakdown of the Friends dynamic and just analyze it waaay more than necessary.

To save on time, and because there is something stuck under my space bar, making this post really fuckin annoying to make, we will move on.

The point I was trying to make was that it is such a foreign idea that someone would not be with their family on Thanksgiving to me. But the older I get, the more it makes sense.

I no longer live at home, which makes travel kind of annoying. My brother is getting cozy with his lady partner, and went with her somewhere else (?) I think? My sister is in Africa. Like, no shit she isn’t going to make it home for the holidays.

It is sooo much more convenient to just spend some random weekend at home with my parents, eat a good meal, subtly inform my parents about world events by adding it to my “this year I am thankful for…” speech,  and not have to drive anywhere on the busiest travel weekend in America!

PLUS: I had the actual day of Thanksgiving off and was able to make myself a meal and eat all I want without my mother making thinly veiled comments about how much her children can fit in their bodies. Perks!

On another note, plan your fuckin meals ahead of time kids.

I went into the grocery store and it went something like this:

“Apples. Apples go good with stuff right?”
“I can’t eat an entire turkey. Don’t be absurd.”
–I then had to talk myself out of that challenge–
“What the fuck is a cornish hen? And how does one prepare it?”
“This is the TINIEST BIRD!”
“Can I make stuffing WITHOUT bread? Like, my tummy would probably love me a lot more if I cut down my bread intake by a thousand.”
“What even is stuffing without bread?”
“Is it like, just a bunch of sage and celery and shit?”
“Like a stir-fry?”
“Like a Thanksgiving stir-fry?”
“That sounds fucking weird.”
“I’m going to do it.”

I actually made a video of this, but apparently this format is not supported by this website, which is a bunch of bull honkey if you ask me. So you can click the below link:
shenanigans

Also, I was going to make this longer and kind of go over what I did and why it is important to TAKE THE GODDAMN STICKERS OFF THE APPLES BEFORE YOU PUT THEM IN A FRYING PAN FOR WHEN YOU LATER EAT A BIT OF IT.

But, like I said before, there is something stuck under my spacebar and it’s pissing me off. So you guys are stuck with my out of focus video. (I’m learning here)

….that is a lie. We are getting no where.

Because I am the most unproductive sloth of a human being that I have ever seen. I do nothing and yet, here I am with nothing to show for it!

On that note, I will have a Thanksgiving dinner post put up soon, but I had a really weird weekend.

A weekend wherein, people requested I hang out with them.

And I did.

Willingly.

So instead of staying indoors and further burrowing my horribly concave mattress into the ground, I went out! And then went out again! And then technically, we stayed in and watched all three extended edition Lord of the Rings movies. But it was done at someone else’s house! And I edited the video while we watched! Actual production!

But the actual writing still has to get done, so here’s a little treat to tide you over until that gets finished:

Holy fuckin flying dumbbells Batman, do I need to go to the gym.
Like, just putting together the video was horrific enough because I am not used to actually seeing myself aside from the small mirror that I use to put on my human mask in the morning. But I have such a different mental image of what I look like compared to what was on my screen.

And I know that body image is something that I am not supposed to let rule my life and that I will be beautiful at whatever size I am and all of that other very important stuff that we need to be telling our children!

But this is about what just occurred earlier this evening as I was trying to put my gym bag together.

This is my gym bag. Nothing fancy, just a pretty decent stuff sack that I bought earlier this year and also use when I want to be outside working out (ie: rollerblading that one time I walked to a friend’s house):

Nice enough bag right? Let’s take a quick look inside:

Oh look! It’s a half full bottle of gin! Because that is what every person needs in order to convince themselves that going to the gym is fun.

Actually, that’s not half bad. I would LOVE to do drunk workouts.

Seriously, can we do that? I mean I know I would break so many bones trying to treadmill drunk, but omg would that be the best.

Oh, hey, what’s this in the front pocket?

Oh nothing, just the MOISTURIZER I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR FOR 5 FUCKIN MONTHS

Whatever, my workout clothes (old pajamas) and iPod are now what is actually inside the bag and I am ready to go to the gym.

Riiiight after this gin and tonic.

Hi. Yes. Hello.

I realize now that I have to actually put effort into hobbies in order to make them worthwhile.

So this is the start of hopefully something useful.

Here is the goal:
I will make stuff
You will read/watch/hear about it
You will tell your friends
I will continue to put in effort but you will then share this around
Somehow, probably through movie magic, I will become famous
But in reality, probably not.

Either way, let’s get drunk and have fun!