A 30th Birthday Twilight Cake
October 27th, 2010 § Leave a Comment
I just have to share a couple of pictures of the cake that my friend Katharine made for her Twilight fan husband for his 30th birthday:
Impressive, isn’t it? Over 3 days, she incorporated the elements of all four book covers onto one three-tiered cake. And she had to call all over creation to find those ruffled tulips. Forget Bella and Edward, this right here is true love 
As one who doesn’t have the patience to frost one cupcake, or even butter a single piece of toast, I’m amazed by people with cake decorating skills. Not to mention BAKING all of those cakes!
Nice job, Katharine!
The Week that Wasn’t
April 29th, 2010 § Leave a Comment
How is it Thursday already? I’ve had one of those ridiculous weeks that goes by too quickly and yet nothing was accomplished. It’s all due to being away from home last weekend. We were down in CT visiting friends and family Saturday through Monday. I spent Saturday with my girlfriends, sipping vino and talking trash. On Sunday, I attended a great fiction writing workshop led by Amy Bloom at RJ Julia. (The best little bookshop in Connecticut. And maybe the whole world. I love it there. It feels like my home away from home, honestly. I’m such a bookworm.)
The workshop was great in part because it was so small–about 20 people max.–and also because Amy was so nice and willing to answer any question we threw at her regarding her writing practice. The two bits of advice she tossed out that I grabbed on to were: 1. write as if everyone you know is dead, and 2. don’t use adverbs. I don’t know if those little nuggets mean anything to you, but they were like a slap in the forehead to me. She of course gave much more good advice, but those two tips made an impact on me. I’ve been wanting to write a novel since I was, I don’t even know, since I was able to write, I guess. My first story, when I was maybe 10 years old, was about Charlie Farnkley, and my mother thought it was hilarious. I can’t even remember the story, but it was rare in those days that I made my mom laugh, what with being an evil devil child and all, so the fact that she thought my story was funny is memorable. So, yes, I want to write a novel. One more thing to add to my to-do list. It follows “clean the bathrooms” and “fold the laundry.”
On Monday, Peter and I visited with one of my very oldest friends. (When I say “oldest” I don’t mean she’s 101, I mean I’ve known her since I was 7.) I finally met her 3 1/2-year-old daughter. It’s really a crime that that much time can go by without us getting together. Especially considering that we used to spend nearly every day together. People in the neighborhood called us “Mutt and Jeff.” Which didn’t make sense because we were nearly the same height. And we’re girls. But whatever, that’s what they called us. A few years later they called us “troublemakers,” but there’s no need to rehash all that. It was nice catching up with her, and Peter had a fun time playing with her daughter. He has since named all of his toys after her and has been asking if he can call her on the phone.
So, we returned to MA late Monday afternoon. And that’s the last thing I remember. Now it’s Thursday. I haven’t cooked any new recipes. I didn’t even go to the grocery store until today, so whatever we ate earlier this week was pulled together from last week’s scraps. Last night we had Moe’s for dinner. It’s Peter’s favorite restaurant. I always get the Art Vandalay with black beans.
I have no relevent pictures to post.
My car is in the shop undergoing $2K worth of repairs.
My fabulous in-laws are coming up to visit this weekend, which explains why writing my novel falls after cleaning the bathrooms and folding laundry. Seriously, we’re looking forward to seeing them and it’s supposed to be a nice, warm, sunshine-y weekend, which is just like icing on the cupcake.
I hope to regain my footing here this weekend and return next week with some useful posts. Any suggestions for posts? Questions you need answered? Drop me a line in the comments or purewellnessamy at gmail dot com.
“We’re halfway there, Oh, OH…”
March 27th, 2010 § Leave a Comment
So, Peter and I went to another free lunchtime concert downtown on Wednesday with our friend Sue. We went last week on St. Patrick’s Day to hear a group of Irish musicians. This week the Beantown Swing Orchestra was playing with American Idol finalist, John Stevens. As you can probably guess, Swing music is quite a draw for senior citizens. I think every senior center in a 100-mile radius took a field trip to downtown Worcester yesterday. The house was packed with white hair and wheelchairs and every single person was having a ball (well, those who weren’t taking a catnap were having a ball). If there had been room for a dance floor, I’m sure that those wheelchairs would’ve been whirling around on one wheel out there. The music of that era is timeless and infectious, and the orchestra and John were amazing. At times, if I closed my eyes, I could have easily imagined that Frank Sinatra was in the room singing his heart out. I may have even smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air and tasted whiskey on my tongue.
However, interrupting my revery were some sobering thoughts. As I was watching those seniors clapping, singing and bobbing their heads along to the music, I suddenly thought of myself and wondered what I’ll be doing in 30 years. What in the hell kind of field trips will I be taking with my senior center? Are there going to be a group of twenty-something musicians covering Bon Jovi, Motley Crue and Skid Row songs? I mean, really? Really?? Am I going to be singing “Livin’ on a Prayer” when I’m 70? And what about teenagers now? What are their field trips going to be like in 50-55 years? Will they be singing along with Justin Bieber, Lady Gaga and Ke$ha impersonators? It’s so bizarre. It seems to me that music put out after, say, 1980 has lost the ability to be called “timeless.” Sure, there are some bands and musicians that still play real instruments and write meaningful lyrics that don’t make a nun blush, but I honestly think that most current mainstream music has an expiration date. Don’t you think? I mean, can people of all ages say “before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack, ’cause when I leave for the night, I ain’t coming back”? Is that a timeless and ageless sentiment? [No offense, Ke$ha - we totally sing your songs now.]
I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, and maybe it’s just how I’m feeling at this moment, but I hope that when my friends and I are 70 we’ll be swaying to the music of Frank Sinatra and Artie Shaw rather than throwing our panties at some young stud from our bedazzled wheelchairs while singing “Tommy used to work on the docks” through our floppy dentures.
So, yeah, I can’t stop laughing at that Bon Jovi scenario. It’s so going to happen. Probably after many glasses of wine and few shots of Jagermeister. You know, for old times’ sake.
