Sweaty Summer

I love this picture.
When I see it, I definitely think of Summer, not sweat.

It's almost June, which means that in twenty-two short days it will "officially" be summer, though most people mark summer's beginning as right after Memorial Day.
Either way, summer.

Don't get me wrong, I love summer.
Longer days, warm weather, the sun.
It's all good.

The problem is, that along with the heat, comes the sweat.
I have the very unfortunate problem of being a "sweat-er"
No, not a sweater, like the kind you wear, but a "sweat-er," as in one who sweats...a lot.

I don't know why, but I have always had this, um you know, issue.
It's pretty embarrassing, and it gets worse if I am particularly stressed out.

Example:
I am getting ready for a _________(fill in the blank with an important event here).
Wedding, birthday party, confession, you name it.
It never fails. As soon as the adrenaline starts flowing, so does the sweat.
Once those initial drops start to make their way down my face/back/whatever, I try to relax, deep breathe, think of something or someone, like my fantasy boyfriend Michael Buble.

Nothing works, and I'm doomed to ride out the sweaty wave, until it subsides on its own.

So, what to do?
After lots of analyzing and research, I've come up with a brilliant solution.

Crank up the A/C full blast, and strip down to the bare minimum, while employing deep breathing techniques, and a Michael Buble fantasy.

Relaxation will ensue, and the "sweats" will be no more.
Standing in front of the open freezer door, with a spoon, and a giant pint of ice cream work too.

Ahh summer, can't wait.

I Feel Pretty

Me and Monica on my birthday, at the very end of our Disney day.

Smart.
Pretty.
Hot.
Cute.
Beautiful.
Sassy.
Sweet.
Kind.
Generous.
Sexy.

There are many words we can use to describe ourselves.
The way we see ourselves.
The way we think others see us.

As girls...women, we are always climbing the slippery slope of self-confidence and self-doubt whether we admit it or not. It's true.

I'd like to think that I am not defined by the too dark shade of lipstick I choose to wear, or the "cutting off my circulation" jeans I'm too lazy to change out of.

Don't judge me if I pick up my kids from school today, wearing sweats and an
"I Love Bear Hugs" tee shirt.

Don't make assumptions about me, if I have my hair in a ponytail or happen to have a zit (or two) on my chin.

Those things do not define who I am.
They are just incidental things, things that happen on a sometimes daily basis.
Things, I am okay with.

Sometimes I have a great hair day.
Sometimes my skin is almost totally clear.
Sometimes my "skinny" jeans are my "these fit me without having to hold my breath" jeans.
Sometimes I eat salad and feel good about it.
Sometimes I don't.

There are so many cool and uncool things about being female.
Today, I choose to embrace the cool parts.

Like, Omigod, I'm so sure!"

I am a big fan of words.

I like writing them, speaking them, reading them.

I especially love the generational slang that I've spoken and witnessed over the years.

I was born in 1975, and grew up mostly in the eighties, so there was a lot of this...

"Um, like yeah, that's totally awesome!"

"Oh grotey, gag me!"

"Like, Omigod, that is so totally rad."

The words "like" and "totally" were such a constant part of my vocabulary, my parents probably thought it was all I was capable of saying.

Though "like" is now an infrequent visitor in my speech, I can't seem to ditch "totally."

Of course, the eighties were almost thirty years ago, and seem like the dark ages to the youth of today...like my Sabrina, who is partial to words like "chillax."

Me? I'm partial to words like "shenanigans."

As in..."Omigod, you guys need to totally stop your shenaningans, and just chillax."

Wedded Bliss

The new Mr. and Mrs.

It's Tuesday.
It's Cinco de Mayo.
It's also two days after my cousin, Araceli's wedding (she's on her way to Hawaii as I write this).

I arrive at the topic of this post.
CUPCAKES.
If you have had it up to here, with cupcakes, and all they represent, I heartily apologize.
I am just about nearing the point of needing a cupcake hiatus myself...

Where was I? Oh, Cupcakes.
Glorious cupcakes.

I am quite a fan, but have found that a really good cupcake, can be elusive.
I have spent countless hours in my kitchen, perfecting recipes, while slaving over a hot oven.
So, when Araceli asked me (or maybe it was my suggestion, my memory is fuzzy) if I could make her a cupcake wedding "cake" it sounded like a good idea....at the time.

I thought it would be a piece of cake.
Easy as pie.
No problemo.

As her wedding date approached, I baked cupcakes.
I baked some more.
We even had a cupcake dress rehearsal.
I was prepared, ready.

The problem is, that I have never executed such a task, and there is a big difference between thinking you are capable of doing something, and actually doing it.

The week of the wedding, I began to panic.
What was I thinking suggesting a cupcake wedding cake?
For the love of all things good and pure....her wedding day.
Kind of important.

Okay, okay, I know, it's just the cake, it's not like I was in charge of making her wedding dress or anything, but still.

The day before the wedding, I dragged my good friend Peggy, (who is married to my cousin Andy) downtown, to the flower mart. She was so gracious, as we wandered through what seemed like thousands of flowers, finally finding some that were deemed worthy of Araceli's wedding cupcakes.

On Sunday, the day of the wedding, I woke up bright and early (okay, it was like 10 o'clock, but the wedding wasn't until six...), and began baking.

I would love to say that everything went off without a hitch, but sadly, that was not the case.
I was nervous. I had stage fright. I forgot things, and almost really botched the job, over and over again.

About half way through, I finally snapped out of my my nervous, fumbling haze, and became a cupcake wielding machine.

Peggy called to see how I was faring, and politely asked if I needed any help...setting up the cupcakes. Normally, I am all about politely refusing help, because I'm just weird and stubborn, that way, but not this time.
There were alot of shenanigans involved in transporting the cupcakes to the wedding site, and in the whole "cake" set up, so I wasted no time in accepting her offer.

We arrived at the restaurant on time...which was a welcome surprise, and got to work.
It took about forty-five minutes total, and I have to say, was relieved when we were done.

I finally breathed...after awhile.
And the cupcakes...well they weren't too shabby.
See for yourself.

A view of the cake table, in the last bits of the afternoon sun.

The center stand. The cupcakes were Red Velvet with Cream Cheese frosting.

One of the cake pedestals.

Oh, and the cupcake consensus at the wedding was favorable, yay.