Noms for All

Fifth batch of brownies were a semi-success. They were the same as the fourth except I refrigerated the batter overnight. It was a little less bready and therefore good enough for me. It was morning, I needed to finish them before class for my friend's birthday, and... She ranted and raved the entire day to people I don't know. So there you have it. Good enough for her, meh for me, that's all I need.

Cream cheese frosting. White and blue. Want to see? I think you do!

Be jealous. Om nom nom.

First batch was very red. I used most of the dye. Very pretty. Oily. *wrinkles nose*

So... cuppycakes. I eats. You eats. Nom.

Happy nomming, from all of us to you!

The Great Red Velvet Hoax

You've been duped.

No, seriously. Red velvet is not a flavor.

Liars. They're all liars.

Every time I bite into a cupcake or a slice of cake titled, "Red Velvet," I sit there and go, "This is chocolate."

And I get these looks. Like, "Yeah, okay. You've obviously not sophisticated enough a pallet to appreciate the fine subtly of the velvet." Okay, maybe that's not really something you can capture in a look-- but if you could, that's what I get.

My cousin, the cupcake enthusiast, let me know that the difference is vinegar. Fair enough. She had me-- there's an extra ingredient that is not used in chocolate goods.

My friend's birthday is Tuesday and she requested red velvet. I went to the web and abandoned my common sense, as I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to tweak and perfect batches of cupcakes until I had my own recipe.

The first two had vegetable oil. What? Yeah and I listened. Two separate recipes, asking for oil, in cupcakes. And me, the good little baker that I am, said, "The recipe won't lie to me." Liars. All of them.

I had Oil Cupcakes. They weren't horrid, but if it isn't Heaven, why eat a cupcake?

So. I went to the web again. And look at that, recipes without oil. And without vinegar. What? Isn't that what makes red velvet what it is?

Time for some history. Vinegar, as it was made back in the day, reacted with the cocoa used in chocolate cake and turned the cocoa red. It was pretty and went well with Christmas and Valentine's Day, but the vinegar didn't affect the taste.

The way vinegar's made today, it doesn't react with the cocoa. We add food coloring-- which all three batches of cupcakes I made today called for.

Red chocolate cupcakes. I could put blue food coloring and call them blue velvet. It'd probably be a new favorite at weddings, too.

It's a COLOR.

Subtly of blah blah blah. Chocolate. It's yummy, but it's chocolate. Throw some cream cheese on that and it's still chocolate.

You know there's red velvet ice cream? It's chocolate ice cream. I hope you're not paying more for it.
I go to a lot of frozen yogurt places and I got red velvet. It was chocolate, as per usual.

Duped.

This baker's out.

It's Venting, Don't Fret

Hi there.

Not All I Want to Say

I feel warm, overheated.

I took a bath in the dark and thought and over-analyzed and rocked a little and realized it's most likely one of those times when I don't want to be okay. And I texted someone from before, you know, that I don't speak to now. Just because I need to and I don't know if my mind's swam back to the past and is reliving the same thing because it feels the same. It feels exactly the same and I want to crawl into a shell and refuse to come out until someone dedicates their every breath to me and holds me. So I'm selfish in my irrational hurting times, so what? I deserve that, don't I?

I'm either paranoid or intelligent. At least, not an idiot. I know why people do what they do a lot of the time. And it's blatant, a lot of the time. And the more blatant it is, the more it's painful.

At least have the decency to... to... I feel sick. I feel sick and alone and I am as such. Deservingly so.

I need coddling.

I'll seek comfort in someone who really just messed me up a while ago.

Um. I'm sorry I'm selfish and bitter. I should rise above it. I feel like maybe I could and I just don't feel like it. That's brattish, but, well. There it is. Maybe I'll work on that. That would be nice.

Alas.

Ambiguous Musing

I'm back "home." Or, my second home.

Do you ever feel really bitter for no apparent reason? Or maybe you have a reason, but you're sure as hell not going to say it out loud. You know, sometimes it's better to let go. It's this kind of deep exhale, your face gets a little warm and your eyes close and you wonder if you'll ever forget. Sometimes it isn't better to let go and then sometimes it is, in fact, but you can't. I'm not saying I'm in any of these situations. Nor am I saying that it's hypothetical, because that usually means it isn't. I'm saying, hypothesizing really, that when it's too hard to look at the situation without emotion, you have to figure out just what kind of emotions you've been feeling lately and if they're really worth it. Not just for you.

On a more physical hand, I cooked brown rice and a little less Latin picadillo. It's tasty.
Have you ever drank Gold Peak tea? The leaves are just right. I could sit and go through an entire jug. Mmm.

I'm staring into space a lot today. Maybe I've made a mistake. Tough, encrypted day.

I'm eating a lot today, too. Little of this, that.

That's not it, but that's it.

New This and That

I'm supposed to see Dinner for Schmucks today. I was originally going to see Despicable Me, because "IT'S SO FLUFFY."

However, I figured my mother would prefer more tangible characters-- in a word: real.

Anyway. Avatar: The Last Airbender was vastly disappointing, as everyone who saw it knows. However, the sequal to the television series sounds promising. A teenage Avatar from the  WATER TRIBE lives in an age of bending rebellion, needing to learn the last element: air. From who, you may be wondering? Aang's son, naturally. Is anyone else thinking that a love affair would be strange? No, the Avatar isn't gay-- at least, I don't think she is. Mhm. She would have a strange relationship with her mentor, no? Since she's spiritually, virtually, Aang... it would be a strange father-son... you know what I mean. I'm sure it won't be like that. It would be more like venturing into the spirit world and hearing, "Aw, you fancy my son!" Of course, I'm not sure there will be a romance there, etc. I'm just exploring possibilites.

On another note, there's now another major food network. It's the Cooking Channel, and I might just like it better than the Food Network. It's more straightforward, simple, and just about food. There's a lot of similar peoople on the channel, including Tyler Florence, Jamie, Giada, and Nigella, for instances. I positively adore Nigella. She's precious, nifty, and English. She's also a mum who shows her cute kids sometimes and her show just feels welcoming. At any rate, I haven't watched too much of the station, but there's also other shows that are more wholesome, "healthy," etc. What I really like about it is that it's fresher, and just about cooking. "Stay hungry." I like it.

I could really go for a hot cup of tea. I'm actually starting to miss my apartment. There are certain perks to living on your own. Which makes me really interested in wanting to eventually study abroad.

Speaking of travel, I may go to Italy with a family friend. It sounds luxurious and invigorating, but I'd really like to somehow find a way for both my mom and me to go. It'd also be really sweet if my brother could and... if it could just be a family affair would be delightful. It's wishful, I know.

My apartment-- one major difference between there and home is my desktop. I miss playing League of Legends and on my Notebook, it's simply too slow. Obviously, without a graphics card, my processor has to do twice the work, and so it's just painful. But oh how I cherish that game. I play an adorable little girl; she's a mage who controls fire and a shadow bear she trapped in a teddy bear. Her name's Annie and she's just squee-worthy.

Some quotes from Annie:

"Wanna play? It'll be fun..."

"Have you seen my bear Tibbers?"

"You smell like... burning."

"Beaten by a little girl!"

So obviously, she appeals to my sensibilities. She's small, adorable, wicked powerful, and sweet. Aw. You smell like burning. <3

I was going to rant about politics, and let's face it, I will. But not right now. I'm going to check on dinner instead. Which is entirely political in itself.

Doth shall not protest,

Yours Truly.

Blurted in Order of Thought

My dear friend has recently turned me on to Stereo Mood, which allows you to choose an emotion and then grants you a well-suited playlist to accompany such mood. I'm infinitely impressed by this. It's always assumed that music is emotional and therefore songs are considered "happy," or "depressing." This, however, just tickles me. It even has activities-- cooking, cleaning. There's music for raining. I particularly enjoy that one. It's lovely and I feel giddy just writing about it, truly.

She stumbled upon the site and then proceeded to show it to me while we made Tres Leches, Nicaraguan style. What's the difference? Cinnamon. A surprising amount of cinnamon. We were especially ambitious bakers, attempting to make merangue without a candy thermometer. What in bloody blazes is the "softball stage" of syrup? I had no idea until I looked it up. Actually, I'm not too solidified on the topic-- as in, I only researched in a hurry for what that particular stage and temperature proved and nothing else. The curious thirster that I am, I'm a little ashamed by it, but syrup is finicky and impatient.

Besides pride, I wasn't quite sure as to what the point of a 4.0 really was in the moment-- now I know. Money. You can apply for just about anything with a 4.0, as it turns out. Well, well, well. I rather like that. I'm signing up for this and that, applying here and there-- progress, I tell you. It's that good ol' ingenuity and such. I'm not quite sure as to why belonging to this half of the population's sexes allows me to receive money but I suppose I can tut and tisk while I stuff the bills into my apron.

I have a new workout regimen set up to begin in the next few weeks. I get tired of lazing. Actually, I don't. But I become restless and tempted to never leave bed unless I'm a little bit active. So, I'll rather enjoy that. And grocery shopping, when I'm home. I made a list about two weeks ago, but then I left, so that's just sitting idly on the counter.

I really want a pair of white linen pants. I can't describe it, all of the little things that swim around in my mind and sprout grabby hands. I just want it, is all.

Is is odd that I absolutely cannot get Tim Curry out of my head as Frank'N'Furter? I'm irresistably turned on by his younger, transvestite self. Have you seen the legs on him?  He's so overt. I adore it. A friend of mine suggested that transvestites might be right up my alley as companions, due to my disinterest in extreme masculinity. However, when I was explaining my search for balance between femininity and masculinity, I wasn't particularly pointing to a "male tomboy." Not to say that I wouldn't be a bit... intrigued, but that's in my nature. At any rate, I wouldn't discount the opportunity.

Doth shall not protest this,
Yours Truly.