It's Just Abbey

Update on my post yesterday. My abs hurt so bad it hurts to laugh. Moving on.

So tonight was class three of cake decorating class. It was yet another jump into making flowers. Tons of flowers. We learned to make daisies, pansies, daffodils, primroses, and a new way to make roses.

I am pretty decent at making blobs that look like flowers but I am not too good at making flowers that look like flowers. I don’t know. I am seriously so anti-flowers at this point I don’t know what to do. Three weeks of flowers. Learning new pedals and various middle sections.... Over it! When do we get to make thorns and Venus Flytraps!?

Here is my main issue. I shake… Alright. My abs hurt a lot and the only joke I can come up with is terrible and lacking of taste. Bear with me. My hands shake worse than Michael J Fox. THERE I SAID IT. I’M SORRY!

Anyone still reading? Good. Stay tuned for my terrible Michael Vick and puppy joke.

Where was I? Oh yes. My shaking issue. This is an issue that comes from either the stiff frosting or my over sugared shakes. Either way it makes my flowers look all wilty and sad. Who likes a sad flower? No one. That’s who.

Side bar. So when I was in high school I did an art project in charcoal. It was a daisy with the worlds mort depressing face ever seen. I was so freaking proud of that art piece. It was my vision. It was my masterpiece. If I recall, the art assignment was to recreate a picture that speaks to you. For some reason, my emo little heart called upon a flower in desperate need of Prozac. I took it home and it has been dubbed Sad Flower for all of eternity. I haven’t seen it in years but I can almost bet that when I move into my first house my house warming gift will be Sad Flower in a beautiful frame. They are biding their time to spring that sucker one me I just know it. My parents have kept most of my art but to this day Sad Flower is a favorite. In close second is my CIA Pizza Man. God that man was gorgeous.

I really need to get a picture of that flower. It will blow your minds.

Back to the cake decorating. I only took two colors to class. Pink and yellow. I forgot to make a plain batch of white so I ended up with some odd looking daisies. Also, some odd looking pansies. Well, all the flowers really kind of looked like they belonged in a collage made by a 14 year old girl. See?

My mom refuses to keep any flowers. I had to keep forcing her not to eat ones she deemed unworthy. Her friend from work kept the mantra, “If you can’t see the mistake from the road, it’s fine.” A mantra I took to heart because I saved everything. And I mean everything. That one look weird? Saved. That one clearly have too many pedals? Saved. That one look like a liver spot on an old man's face? Saved.

When we did the daisies it was the only flower our instructor had issues with. She didn’t know how to make them pretty like the book. I found a cheating way to make them and showed everyone. She was resistant at first but the flowers looked pretty good so I taught everyone my cheater-cheater-pumpkin-eater ways. There is the right way to do things and then there is the faster way to do things. I like finding the latter because I am a lazy little snot. Mawhaha.

I have a date with my mother on Sunday to make more flowers. I am going over to her house and we are going to crank out a gross of flowers. Why a gross? Because having a ton of flowers will be like having a crib sheet for a final exam. You may not need it but it feels better knowing it is there. Right? Right. Maybe we will even make flowers that aren’t just pink and yellow. Shocking, I know.

Next week we will be making our final cake. We will be taking in all the flowers we have been making for the last three classes and decorating a cake of horticultural proportions. Hope no one has allergies! Good joke. Everybody laugh. Roll on snare drum. Curtains. (Everyone get that reference? No. Too bad. I’m like the freaking Gilmore Girls of obscure references. Try to keep up.) Here is a cake related video… Kinda. Okay. This song has just been in my head for hours. Thanks dad.

After my dad showed me this I showed my parents the Motherlover video and scarred my mom for life.

Now if you all don’t mind, I am going to go crawl into bed and dream of the days before breathing made my torso flair up in fire hot pain rendering my motionless and paralyzed. It has been a long day. I’d sigh but it would make me cry in agony. And here is a question. If I worked my abs why to my legs hurt? I don’t understand anything anymore! I need some cake.