for real real, not for play play

No more denial, I need a job in the fall. For serious. And a JOB job, not....Starbucks. Although it may come down to that. Not to knock all of you working at Starbucks - they make a tasty cup o' joe - but I'd rather do something related to, you know, my actual college degree. But seeing as how I majored in Theatre, maybe I just need to suck it up and make cappucinos for awhile. Wow I really want some coffee now.

I wanted to go see one of the side project shows that starts in about a half hour, but I just got a call from one of the lighting designers saying that she's about a half hour away. Which means that I have to go meet her, as I am the only one in the office. Funny how that always conveniently happens to me. I mean, why do I actually have to work when I just want to run away to watch some weird show written by a sound designer-turned-wannabe-playwright involving a giant duct tape-covered knife? WHY?? Hmmm, maybe this is why I can't find my ideal job.

Joy

Dark chocolate-covered espresso beans are the only things keeping me alive right now. Seriously.

black is the new black

The pimping story:
It was not quite a cupcake, not quite beautiful, but still worth the effort. And still quite tasty, actually.

If I had a digital camera, I could show you the glory, but you'll have to imagine it. Or someone with pictures on their cell should figure out how to upload them and send them to me *ahem*andreaandrebecca*ahemhmm*.

I should have known it was going to all go downhill when we decided to make the top icing blue. There was much arguing over whether it should be a golden-yellow or a chocolate-brown so we went with blue instead ... for springtime. Or Independence Day - minus the red. Or something. ANYWAY, it turns out that I was thinking of the golden-orange cupcakes and Rebecca was thinking of the golden cupcakes with chocolate icing, which I truly swear I have never seen. Maybe it's a city thing. I still declare no victories in this argument. The hardest part of the construction was getting the layers to stand up once we cut out the middle for the creamy filling (which, in my opinion, was the best and dreamiest part). By the time we got the top on and haphazardly made the trademark swirl, it collapsed. Then it was just gross.

Overall: an exciting, sugary, messy, beautiful time. Do it yourself. Just add beer.

And in other news, I dyed my hair BLACK. That's right, I'm all Ashlee-Simpson-trying-to-be-punk. Before the nose job. No ... I'm just an evil version of my original self.

Oh MAN

So look what I JUST found:

Another brilliant idea already taken.

Damn.

I'm gonna pimp a sna-ack!

Forget job searching - my latest project is SNACK PIMPING! Thanks to the fine Brits who brought us Pimp That Snack (formerly Pimp My Snack, until Viacom got their panties all in a twist), I - with a little help from my friends - am going to pimp out my own snack. OK, it was really Andrea's idea to attempt such a feat, but I'm taking credit for showing her the site...kinda...OK, via The Girl Who Ate Everything. Whatever, I'm taking some credit.

I really wanted to make a pimped-out Pop Tart, since Pop Tarts are the epitome of all that is wonderful in the world of junk food, but apparently someone already beat me to it. So...instead we will attempt to pimp the all-American HOSTESS CUPCAKE. No, no, not attempt. We WILL. And hopefully I will be able to snag someone's digital camera to document it all.

We will of course be pimping the original chocolate kind, not it's inferior golden cousin.

Let the games begin.

Oh man, now I really want a Pop Tart.