Damsel In Distress

Damsel In Distress

Hello Friends,

I realize that it has been a while. Things have been tough. I thought I had a handle on things, and I thought I was going to be okay, but I wasn’t and I’m not. I am not okay.

My dad has been gone 6 weeks now. It still hurts and I still can’t believe it happened. I lost my love for writing and reading. I lost my love for TV. The only thing I kept was my love for music, but even that caused problems. I had to listen to things that didn’t remind me of my dad…which was kind of hard because my dad loved music to.

This past week I finally admitted to myself that I wasn’t okay. I admitted that I may actually need therapy, to talk to a professional. I admitted it to my mom and my brother. And now I admit it to you and the rest of the world. I need help. And it’s okay that I need help. It’s not okay to continue trying to take care of things myself. Somethings you just need a little help getting through. Especially something this hard.

Today, I wrote a poem and actually finished it. It’s something I haven’t done in a very long time. I usually write poetry in my very dark moments. And this is probably the darkest moment of my life. So, for those of you still around waiting to hear from the lost and broken Heather…here is a little poem I have written.

Damsel In Distress:
There is no prince charming
There is no white horse
There is only a damsel
And she is in distress

There is no secret family
There is no secret fund
There is only a damsel
And she is in distress

There is no mother ship
There is no alien planet
There is only a damsel
And she is in distress

This isn’t a fairy tale
Life can be a villain
And here we have a damsel
And she is in distress

She has no kiss to awaken her
She has never lost a shoe
She is just a simple damsel
And she is in distress

Living in reality
Lost in fantasy
She is a damsel
And she is in distress

I know I can’t keep waiting
I have to save myself
I am a damsel
And I am in distress

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Reality

Today marks 2 weeks since my dad passed. Sometimes I think the word “died” and it makes it that much worse, so I tell people my dad has passed. He has passed from this world to the next, to what ever we have to look forward too once our earthly bodies can no longer hold us down.

It was a hard day for me. A very hard day. I had to work open to close, around all these people that are going about their day and I am still shattered. I am a picture that has fallen off a while while the home owners are away on vacation, so there is no one to sweep up the pieces. I just lay on the floor broken into a million pieces.

I have thoughts that I shouldn’t have. Thoughts about not wanting to be here anymore. But I have so much to do now. My dad gave me a story to write and I have to write it. And it has given me more and more ideas to write. I am a writer and writers do best when they have pain to draw from.

I also fear something happening to my mom and my brother. Anytime I can not see them I fear something has happened. Is there a word for a fear of anyone leaving the house? Agoraphobia is the fear of going outside the house…I feel that developing a little too. But it’s more of a fear of anyone I love leaving my sights.

I looked it up, a fear of loved ones dying is called Thanatophobia. I guess there is a phobia for everything. Before my dad died I had a fear of something going wrong, like if I didn’t love my family enough one of them would be taken away. It’s almost like my heart knew it was about to get hit. Or maybe it’s just my anxiety. I may worry myself to death one day.

I keep thinking how eventually someone is going to die. Someone close to me. And then I think that maybe I don’t want to fall in love or have kids, because that is only more people to grow close to that could die. And maybe my whole life I have been protecting myself from all of this. Maybe that is why I didn’t have too many close friends and I didn’t get to close to a lot of family. Maybe this whole time I have just kept people at a distance so it wouldn’t hurt when someone died. I just thought I had more time with my immediate family. I thought I had more time with my dad.

Isn’t that the problem with everyone though? We all think we have more time, when in reality we are ticking time bombs, waiting to explode and destroy someone’s norm.

Does it make it better when you are close to more people? Does it help if you have more close friends to huddle around you when you lose something so precious? Maybe I only made it worse on myself by not being closer to people. Maybe the more pieces of your heart you give away, the less it hurts when someone dies and takes that piece with them. OR maybe not matter what you do, when a parent dies it just hurts more than anything you have ever experienced in your life.

I wonder sometimes if this all happened for some greater being to show me how minuscule my other problems were, how lame my anxiety issues were. Because it all just seems so stupid now.

We are all ticking time bombs, waiting to explode and destroy someone’s norm.

The Bubble

The world around me moves on. Everyone goes to work. They go to bed at a decent hour, get up early…or late. They skip breakfast, rushed lunches, and lonely dinners. For friends and family, their world was upset, but as of now, just a small piece of their heart is missing. They will see something that will remind them of my dad, they will smile, and move on. Their life has changed, but only slightly. It’s not something they think about constantly, it’s just another passing thought.

For me, the thought is constant, all day every day. I sale a fidget spinner at work and I think of how my dad loved those stupid things. Someone talks about going fishing and I am reminded that my dad really wanted to go fishing again. Someone asks a question about how to get rid of ants in their yard and I recall my dad walking around the yard with a gas can and a lighter, burning all the ant hills he could find. Someone has car issues and I instantly think “my dad can fix that.”

The world continues on, nothing much has changed for people that didn’t see my dad everyday. But for my mom, brother, and myself, or norm has been flipped upside down. Our norm was 4 people and a dog. Our norm was leaving my dad and the dog at home while we did things around town or got dinner because daddy didn’t like going out much and “someone has to stay with the dog.” That was his excuse for not leaving the house anyways. Our norm was bringing home food to my dad after we ate out. Our norm was coming home after work and my dad having dinner ready for us.

But we have a new norm now. We are 3 people and a dog. The dog now has to sit at someones feet or sit in her chair if no ones lap is available, because daddy’s lap was always available for her. We now go out to eat and leave the dog home alone, or my brother uses it as his excuse to stay home. We no longer bring food home for my dad, and only sometimes bring home food for my brother. When we go on vacations, the dog will have to stay in the hotel alone, because I still won’t leave her with someone, at home, or at a doggy daycare place.

Our new norm is something I am still trying to wrap my head around. It doesn’t feel real. It hurts like nothing I have ever experienced in my life. My new norm is constantly worrying about losing someone else in my life. My new norm is being scared to death that I will not survive another death in my family right now. I can’t lose another grandparent, aunt, uncle, or cousin. I can’t lose my dog and I shouldn’t worry about that because she is only 3. But my new norm is realizing that no matter how safe you think you are, death will find you in some way. But can my heart take anymore pain?

What I have realized through all of this is that the human heart is the strongest thing in the world. I know I am not the only one that has survived a parent. Some people have lost both of their parents younger than what I am now. And I am so sorry to all of you that have. I understand your pain now and I want nothing more than to hug you. But so many have survived and moved on and done great and wonderful things in their lives, even after a devastating loss. Our hearts can handle it. Our hearts can be broken into a million pieces and crushed into the ground and we pick it up and put it back together. We may not have all the pieces again, but it’s enough to function, to move on, to be happy again.

I am part of a new world and I don’t like it, I don’t want to know this world yet.

I am not sure if I am happy yet…I feel like I will never be happy again for more than a few seconds. But I am trying. I am moving on like my dad would want.

Better yet, I am writing again. And not just writing, but researching. My dad told me a story once, it was a dream of his, and he wanted me to write the story so bad. I would roll my eyes at him and laugh. I wish I had worked on it sooner, but I know this is what he wants me doing right now. I am a writer and I have found my muse again. My heart break has brought me back into my element and I know my dad will take this walk with me.

The Truth of the Matter

A friend tells you that their parent has died. You give them your condolences and you move on. For you, nothing much has changed except one person in your life you have met and know will no longer be there. For you, life goes on.

No one tells you about the heartache and pain that they suffered. Because it can’t really be put into words. Seconds will go by without thinking of the one you have lost. Hours will go by when all you can think about is that person. You go to sleep thinking about them and wake up with them on your mind. It’s a never ending trail of darkness and depression. It’s anger and pain. It’s rage. You are angry at whatever higher being you believe in. You are angry with the person that died because they left you. You are angry at every person that still has their dad.

But it doesn’t end there. I am angry at the world for moving on while my life has flipped upside down. I want to shout at the sky and punch the clouds. I’m angry because my family has had such horrible luck and just when we think things are getting better the rug is ripped out from under us. I’m mad that the world stolen away my mom’s soul mate. I am mad that the world has stolen away one of the greatest men this world could have seen. I am mad because I am a daddy’s girl with out a daddy.

I am mad that I feel so much when all I want to feel is normal. I want to stop expecting my dad to come walking through the house only for the realization hit me like a ton of bricks that I will never hear him stomp through the house again.

I can’t tell you how many times I have wished to go back in time. Or even to ask my dad how he is. I want to know if he suffered in that hospital bed for 3 days or if he left before then. I want to ask him if he knew what was coming.

But most of all I want to ask God why it was my dad’s turn to leave. Why when things were finally looking up for us did he take away one of the best things we had?

And then, after all my questioning and yelling is done I am terrified that I will be punished for all of these feelings and questions. I fear that God will take more from me because I didn’t appreciate the things I still had because I was too busy mourning over what I had lost.

What people don’t tell you about losing a parent, a young parent, is that there is just so much anger and sadness that it consumes you. You want nothing more than for the world to stop and mourn with you.

All I want to do is be okay again. I want to be able to go about my day with out the smallest things setting me off. I want to be able to sleep again, without the tv staying on all night. I want to get up in the morning without being crippled with sadness. I want everything to go back to the way it was before, when my family was 4 again because it was too soon.

Suffering the Storm

At 1:30am Sunday morning my dad passed away. Yesterday was a great big party at my house and today was the memorial.

The memorial was the hardest thing I have ever been through. This whole thing has been the hardest thing I have ever been through. I have been through some dark moments in my life. I have had moments of depression where I was just sad for no reason and all I want to do now is just throw a brick at my younger me and tell her that things could be a million times worse. And I know even this, the death of my father, is not the worst that has happened to people, but it is the worst that has happened to me and I can’t stand it.

Half the time I stare at the wall like I am going to make some sense of what has happened. The other half of the time I am crying or trying to tell myself this isn’t real. How could this be real? How is it possible that everything my daddy has been through, this is what does him in? And how is it possible that the man I thought was invincible is gone and will never come back. I will never hear him laugh again. I will never fuss at him for bothering me. I will never again tell him something that happened. He will never hug me again and tell me that my speeding ticket was not my fault and that the cops were just out to get me.

I just moved into a brand new house with my family. We haven’t even made the first payment. The house is in my daddy’s name and now we have no idea what is going to happen. There is a possibility that we will lose the home. But I feel it in my heart that this is home and no one will take that away from my family and me. This is where my dad wanted us and this is where he plans for us to stay.

I feel so broken. And for some reason I am trying to fill my dads shoes, trying to take care of the family myself when I know that we all have to come together and take care of one another.

My dad was my hero. He had been through so much in his life. He was hit by a car, survived the abuse of his parents, broke his neck, and fought his way through life. He loved his knives, guns, and guitars. But most of all, he loved his family. Someone told me that my dad told them just the other week that my mom, brother, and me were his world. We were his everything, and I love that he told someone that, someone that would tell us.

I don’t know how people get through this kind of stuff. Maybe it’s just having others that need you that helps you keep going. I thought when something this bad happened to me I would just sleep through it. I can’t even sleep. I fall asleep and wake up in a panic. I have decided to go back to work tomorrow, but I don’t know if I can actually do it. I don’t know if I am ready.

Right now I just want a time machine to go back to before everything happened. Before the old house was torn down and we had to live in the rental for 6 weeks. Back to a time when my daddy was alive and well. Back when my family was still whole.

Movie Review: Zootopia

Zootopia

Rating29-10

Year Released: 2016
Directors Name: Byron Howard | Rich Moore | Jared Bush
Production Company: Walt Disney Pictures | Walt Disney Animation Studios
Lead Actors: Ginnifer Goodwin | Jason Bateman | Idris Elba | Jenny Slate
Genre: Animation | Action | Adventure | Comedy | Crime | Family

 

Storyline (From IMBd): From the largest elephant to the smallest shrew, the city of Zootopia is a mammal metropolis where various animals live and thrive. When Judy Hopps becomes the first rabbit to join the police force, she quickly learns how tough it is to enforce the law. Determined to prove herself, Judy jumps at the opportunity to solve a mysterious case. Unfortunately, that means working with Nick Wilde, a wily fox who makes her job even harder.

Review

Judy is determined to be the first bunny cop. When she follows her dream and actually becomes the first bunny to graduate from the academy, she finds things are not as she had expected. She is instantly thrown into meter duty, writing tickets for meters that have expired. She goes on a quest to prove herself, her worth, and to fully accomplish her dream. But it’s not as easy as she thought it would be.

I love pretty much anything Disney. I love the storylines and the lessons hidden in these amazingly produced movies. Zootopia is no different. It is about following your dreams and never giving up, no matter how much the world seems to be against you. And my favorite part about this is that it shows no matter how small you are, you can still reach for big dreams. I think in today’s world it’s important for kids to know that even they can achieve their dreams and make a difference in the world.

I thought this was a cute and enjoyable movie. I laughed so much, though it doesn’t take much to make me laugh. I also got a kick out of Tommy Chong playing Yax…a Yak that sits at the front desk of a naturalist retreat. Of course, this is a kids movie, but we all know that Yax has been hitting the natural herbs he possibly grows in his basement. Honestly, what else would you expect with Chong voicing the hippie Yak?

Favorite Part: It was an overall enjoyable movie, but my favorite part may have been any of the parts with Mr. Big. He is an arctic shrew mob boss who threatens to freeze all of his enemies. He was just a fun little character.

Least Favorite Part: Possibly the beginning with the bully issue. It kind of ticked me off that Gideon, who is a fox, just slashes Judy’s cheek and nothing was done by anyone. Maybe I am a little too sensitive to the bullying issue, but I just felt like there should have been some kind of reprimand for injuring another schoolmate.

Closing thoughts: If your kids are bugging you to watch this movie, please sit down with them and watch it. It is a really good movie. It’s funny and can possibly open up discussions on many topics. If you are an adult with no reason to watch this other than pure curiosity…do it! I live in a house with three other adults. We enjoyed the movie and one of the other three is really hard to please when it comes to animated movies.

Have you seen this movie? If so, what were your thoughts?

Ending the Experiment

Okay, it’s over.  I tried and I realized, writing is in my blood!!

I tried to not write anything for over a week now and, well, I am about to go crazy.  I have not written blogs, stories, poems, or even notes.  The only thing I did write were status updates on Facebook, which can some times be a short story.  I like to tell people things.

I have been down, angry, antsy, and everything else that happens to a junky when you take away their drugs.  Oh yeah, I’m saying it, writing is my drug. It’s the one thing that calms my stress and helps me find a happier me.  Well, that and reading.

I just wanted to see what would happen if I took all writing out of my life for a week.  I am always questioning if I am really a writer.  I wonder sometimes if I do it because I love it and need it, or if I just do it to make people think I am creative.  I now have my answer.  I love it and need it in my life.

Now, should I be an author?  That question still hangs in the balance of things.  If anything, I will at least tell my kids awesome bedtime stories one day. But I do want to be an author.  I want to share my crazy mind with the world.  I will make it one day, right along with my dream to open my own bakery.  I have a pretty awesome life ahead of me.

And now for a confession.  I didn’t give up all writing.  I evidently can’t give it up completely.  I wrote in my journal one night.  I was depressed and I needed that outlet, I had to write the things down that were stuck in my head.  I don’t always feel comfortable telling people about the things going on in my head.  I scare myself sometimes with the thoughts that cross my mind.

I also don’t like to tell people when I have fallen into that dark hole that makes me question my own life.  I don’t have suicidal thoughts anymore, but I do have moments where I want to give up and just hide under a rock, or I wonder what life would be like without me.  I always end up really upset for the people around me.  I am pretty awesome and their life would be boring without me.

I also wrote a short story with my mom and brother.  My brother drew a picture and I wrote the story.  My mom latter added to it.  It was down on the white board that we keep on the fridge.  Take a look.

Family Story

The character my brother drew didn’t have ears.  He went in after I wrote the story and added ears.  Then my mom went in about new technology.  I love it.  My family inspires me.

Also, Happy Halloween month!! I seriously love Halloween and I can’t wait to show you all the wonderful things I plan on doing.  Hopefully a new job is coming my way, a job with more money.  Meaning I can buy more stuff to make cakes.

Last year I was going to carve pumpkins but I never got around to it.  This year I am going to do that and hopefully try making pumpkin pie.  I have seen so many awesome cake stuff for Halloween.  I just love this time of year!!  I have already made one cake for Halloween.  I will share it with you sometime soon.

I Don’t Want to Grow Up

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One thing is clear in my everyday life.  Being an adult sucks some major monkey balls.  Big harry monkey balls.  You have so much to worry about and I haven’t even made it to the full on adult experience.

I still live with my parents.  I have no kids.  I am not married.  Yet, I still have a world of worry sitting at my doorstep when I wake up in the morning.

Let’s make a list of things that suck about being an adult.

  1. Bills!  Ugh bills.  You can’t avoid them really.  I have credit card bills because I was stupid when I was young.  I got credit cards because I convinced myself it would help raise my credit…which it did.  I actually do have a pretty okay credit score.  Then there is the phone bill.  Of course I could cut down on that cost by not having an iPhone…but then I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the world.
  2. Student loans.  I didn’t lump this into the bill field because it’s a whole other story.  See, I went to college thinking that I would get ahead in life with a college degree.  Little did I know that I would leave college with a 60 thousand dollar loan and no job prospects.  Yeah, I had a good job, but I was let go.  Even experience on the job didn’t help in finding a new job.  Student loans are a whore on a corner who ends up being a cop.  She is dressed all fancy and clean…a clean whore. You pull over to ask her something, she yanks you out of the car, reads you your rights, handcuffs you, and throws you in the back of the car.  No warning.  It doesn’t matter that you were just going to ask for directions.  You are now screwed for life.  Thank you student loans.
  3. Time doesn’t actually matters.  As a kid, time doesn’t really matter too much.  You have to be at school at a certain time, but your parents make sure you are up and out the door on time.  They tell you when to go to bed and you do it.  It doesn’t matter what time it is.  At least, it doesn’t matter to you.  You just go about your business until some adult tells you what you have to do next.
  4. Driving.  I admit, I love driving.  But then you have to make car payments (another bill!!) and pay for gas.  Let’s not forget the yearly check ups you have to get so your car doesn’t leave you stranded on the side of the road.  And add on to the fact that you probably can’t afford a really nice new car, so even if you do get your car checked on a regular, it may decide to leave you stranded on the side of the road anyways.  Thank the good man upstairs that my car is actually a pretty good car.
  5. Calling people about payments you can’t afford.  This is what actually sparked my initial rage for today’s post.  My student loan was deferred for a few months after I lost my job.  Before, the payments were just under 300 a month.  After the deferment ended the bill shot up to just over 600 a month.  Add to the fact that with  my new job I couldn’t even afford the 300 and you have yourself a big mess.  What are my choices?  Call them and talk to them, or ignore it until it ruins my credit.  So of course I did the grown up thing and called them.  Who actually calls people anymore?
  6. Ignoring things does not make it go away.  Do you remember when you were younger and you would just ignore a problem and it would go away?  Maybe your parents took care of it or the assignment was no longer due (and you proudly took the zero grade for it).  Now, the longer you ignore something the more it messes up your life.  Like…my car has this weird thing going on.  It jerks like something is slipping in my motor.  I try to ignore it, but I ignored it in my last car and that car is now in a junk yard somewhere.  If I ignore my student loan my credit is shot and I can never buy a home…not that I could afford a home while paying for these student loans anyways.

When I was a kid I remember dreaming about being an adult.  Driving where I wanted, living in my own place (I always wanted to live in an apartment), going out with friends and staying out as late as I wanted, having a really great job, meeting my prince charming.  So many things I thought would be easy.  I thought it just came with growing up. I learned soon enough that growing up meant fighting for all the things I wanted.  And even with all the fighting I wasn’t guaranteed all the things I wanted.

I think I need to go work some of this steam off in the gym.  Cause that is another thing we worry about as adults.  Our health.

Visitors From Out of Town: A Trip to Georgia

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This past weekend my uncle and his family came to visit.  Now, I live in South Carolina and my uncle lives in Washington.  The last time I saw this part of my family was six years ago when my grandfather died. They came for the funeral, had dinner with my parents, brother, and I, then returned home.

This time they stayed for a few days.  Long enough to realize how very much I miss them.  It was a visit full of adventure though!

My cousin, Aunt, and myself went to Georgia to visit my aunts friend.  Let me tell you, it was one crazy trip.

It was like a four hour drive there and another four hours back.  Which wasn’t a problem. I love going for rides.  I love taking in all the different billboards and things that end up on the side of the road.  I even discovered where a haunted house type place was.

Once we got to Georgia we picked up my aunts friend and went to eat.  I stuffed myself like a pig and complained about my stomach hurting.  Then, we ended up at the friends brothers house.  And that is where things got a little interesting.

This man was a strange man.  I was creeped out from the moment I saw him.  I have never met this man in my life and the last time my cousin met him, she was too little to even remember him.

This guys home was in the “basement” of a house.  It was more like the garage turned into a basement.  The floor plan was completely open.  The bedroom, living room, and kitchen were all right there.  No walls separating anything except the bathroom.

It wouldn’t have been too terribly creppy if it wasn’t for the fact that there was not a lot of furniture.  There was a couch that looked like it could have stared in a porn.  A bed…no frame. Just the mattress and boxspring.  And the boxspring was still covered in plastic.  There was a tv in front of the porn couch.  There were selves by the door that were completely empty and I didn’t see a single movie case.

The whole basement looked like the set of a porn.  Or what I would imagine a porn set would look like.  Then, my aunt and her friend went outside to smoke, leaving my cousin and I inside with the friend’s brother.

He started talking and just…something about him made me want to run.

My cousin and I ended up outside with the two women.  My aunt hands us the keys to her car and tells us to be back in an hour.  Talk about small favors! I don’t think she knew how relieved we were to get out of there.  We practically ran out of that place.

We found the closest Starbucks and chilled out, laughing about how uncomfortable we were with the friends brother.  And too soon it was time to go back. Unfortunately, neither of us knew the area well. Or at all…We thought we could make it back. But we failed miserably.

We ended up lost in the ghetto of Georgia.

Now, I do not get antsy around a lot of black people.  I have many black friends and have had black friends all my life.  It had nothing to do with the skin color of the people around us as much as the feel of the place.  Everything was run down, dirty, creepy, unsafe for two females in a nice car that just came from Starbucks.  Again, it had nothing to do with the color of their skin, it could have been Hispanics or whites or a mix of all, I still would have freaked out a little bit.

We were lost in Georgia.  We had no idea how to get back to the guys house and the phone service was a little shady.  All of a sudden a nice car pulled up beside us.  All I could think about was the fact that this was probably a drug deal going on.  Something was going to go wrong, a gun would start firing, and my cousin and I would be caught in the middle.

Yes, my mind does terrible things to me! I’m sure if I had gotten out of the car and asked, someone would have been kind enough to point us in the right direction.  Then again, it was raining and we all know that horror/thriller movies start with rain.  It was a heavy storm coming up too!

Luckily, we got in touch with my aunts friend and got the address.  We threw it into google maps and found our way back to my aunt.  Only, it started pouring to the point where we couldn’t see the road.  Add that to the fact that we had no phone service and you have to chicks just a little freaked out.

You would not believe how relieved I was to be back at the creepers house.  It was a nice adventure, but not one that I want to repeat again any time soon.

We had a nice laugh after and I still laugh about it.  It will be a great story to tell to my kids one day. I wish I could say it was one of those defining moments in my life where I learned an important lesson.  The only lesson I learned was to pay more attention to where I am going.

Heather, where have you been?

I don’t know who reads my blog, or even cares to read, but for some reason I always feel the need to explain my absence.  So, my absence this time was due to laziness.

I have found something about myself that I didn’t know before.  I do this weird thing, where I get super excited to try something new, but then I fear I will mess it up.  When the fear sets in, I shut down.  I wait until the last minute to get it done, just because if I mess it up…I don’t know actually.  It really makes no sense what so ever!  I’m just a strange person.

I haven’t done much since I have gone MIA.  I have been working a lot with a new script that I am writing for the youth groups drama team.  I love those kids so much, and I want nothing more than for them to succeed in life.  I am giving them all I can.  I feel like it has become a battle though.  My ideas against what is “acceptable” in church.  For me, there are issues that need to be addressed, things that teens need to know exist.  Sadly, some church folks don’t agree with me.  Luckily, up to this point, the two leaders that I am working with on the drama team has liked my ideas.  Meaning, it’s not just me fighting to give these ideas a chance to live.

On top of that, I have been trying to finish up the freelance writing class I have been taking, along with baking cakes and getting classes set up for cake decorating.  This week I am working on doing a cake that is for a spa party and it has been requested that I do a fingernail bottle shaped cake.  It’s another one of those things I got excited about, the feared about.  It should have been done already.  I think my small kitchen plays a role in it not being done as well.  I seriously need my own kitchen!  Unfortunately, I can not afford my own place, so I am stuck living with my parents and stealing the kitchen when I can. Which, there is usually only one solid meal cooked at my house, but for some reason, when I go to make a cake or cake pops everyone needs to get into the kitchen.

Let me make this clear.  I live in a double wide trailer.  Ever seen a kitchen in a double wide trailer?  Some are actually nice, but mine is tiny.  It is not a good place to try to be creative, but I make do.  I think if I had a bigger kitchen, or less annoying family I would bake more, who knows.

October is coming!! It is seriously my favorite month ever!  I have so much to do! I need to figure out a costume and what treats I want to make.  I have to carve a pumpkin.  I have to make my aprons before October. So much to do.

What is coming up this week?  Well, I recently made a giant birthday cookie for my brothers birthday, so I will share that with you.  Wednesday is just another fun wacky day!  Thursday I may be sharing my fingernail polish bottle cake with you…it may be a fail, but I might surprise myself!  Friday I will finally show you what I have had in the works for about a month now.  It’s fun with googly eyes!

Anyways, if you have been waiting for a post…HERE IT IS!  If you are reading my blog for the first time WELCOME! I hope you stay!