Have you ever found yourself stuck in the middle of a particularly awkward dynamic, and unable to extricate yourself? Whether it is between two friends, a romantic pairing or warring coworkers, I frequently find myself playing the unwitting, unrequested and often unrewarding role of middle man. I am a consummate Devil’s Advocate, able to anticipate both sides of an issue and articulate both sides of an argument. And I must admit, I do get some perverse pleasure from playing the part. My erstwhile skill makes me the perfect casting choice for an annoying Switzerland, able to point out flaws in any argument and silver linings in every setback. Sometimes, however, I wish I didn’t empathize with others quite so much. I wish I could filter the world better. I wish I could solve my own problems as quickly and easily as I can solve those of others.
Maybe it’s time to retire the middle man persona once and for all, let others clean up their own messes and craft a new role for myself. What else, I wonder, is there to play? I hope I have a cool co-star.
Posted in pretty things on March 27th, 2009 by emmajames
Since cupcakes have clearly been on my mindlately, as well as on my thighs, ass and stomach if the tightness of my jeans is of any indication, I couldn’t resist highlighting these delightfully frivolous Cupcake Bandages from Urban Outfitters as this week’s Pleasure Find.
From Urban Outfitters
I’ve always loved bandaids. They transform clumsiness into bravery, recklessness into mystery and “gross” into “cool.” Simply put, they make any boo-boo better. Particularly when sealed with a kiss. Add images of cupcakes, and I can guarantee any tears will magically disappear.
Cupcake Bandages
Cupcake Bandages come in a reusable tin similar to those in which old-school, drab Band-Aids used to be packaged, only much cuter. Each tin holds twelve bandages and, while they are all the same size, you get a selection of white, pink and blue frosting. Even better, there’s actually a bonus surprise inside and even I don’t know what it is!
Yummy Boo-Boos
It all just makes you want to go fall down in a playground somewhere, doesn’t it? Or go eat another cupcake. Yum.
Posted in pretty things on March 26th, 2009 by emmajames
One would think that my cupcake fiasco of a few days ago would compel me to avoid any reference to the little sugary devils for at least a month or two but, alas, I seem currently to be obsessed. I am in the throes of a mid-life crisis, and compulsively enjoying anything and everything that makes me feel like a kid again. Cupcakes do that for me. They remind me to be spontaneous, uninhibited and bold. Or, perhaps it’s just the sugar talking.
By Sally Mann
Cupcakes make me want to go find a hula hoop, put my hair in pigtails, and not worry about calorie counts or bank accounts. They make me want to try cooking again. They make me think everyone should really do the Zoom arm trick more often.
Yes, I’ve anthropomorphized cupcakes. But I am not the only one!
I recently, with the help of KCRW’s Good Food, stumbled across artist and writer Jessie Oleson. She makes her living by channeling the power of cupcakes.
By Jessie Oleson
I had no idea that she was just the tip of the iceberg. There are a crazy number of websites dedicated solely to the idolatry of cupcakes. Cupcakes serve as muses for painters, sculptors, designers… the list goes on. I couldn’t resist spotlighting a few creations I find most pleasurable.
Cupcake Belt Buckle: Just in case you didn’t already have enough cupcake keeping your jeans tight around your waist.
Available at everafterstore.com
Cupcake End Table: Perfect for your first mod apartment, or a very cool dentist’s office.
By Jellio
Cupcake Cat Toy: Okay, it’s not actually a cat toy, but you better believe that if I brought a knit cupcake into my house, it would become one.
By Brenda aka Loomlady
Cupcake Couture: Bet you thought this one was about you, but no. Even cupcakes deserve their finery. Just imagine, however, what kind of spluge effect I might accidentally create if using these wrappers. Sorta makes me want to find out.
By Cupcakesavvy.com.au
Cupcake with Mice: For no other reason than I think this art work is rad and I hope the children’s story it illustrates gets published.
By Paola Jofre
Clearly, people invest a lot of time, energy and emotion in their relationship with cupcakes. I am not quite ready for this kind of commitment. I may crack, and go purchase a muffin tin in which to bake another batch, but that is it.
In other words, you will not see my feet looking like this:
Art by Amanda Cancilla. Foot by Cupcake Butt / Flickr
At least, not anytime soon. Nice pedicure, though.
I am not a domestic diva. My idea of cooking is toaster-broiling a deboned, skinned chicken wedge or opening up a bag of pre-washed salad fixings. If I can eat a meal without dirtying a single pan, I am a happy camper. But every once in a while, usually after a particularly bumpy ride on the roller coaster of life, I get an itch to do some baking, to mush up sugar with butter and to decorate stuff with nonpareils. Actually, it’s ALL about the nonpareils or, as I like to call them, those little-pretty-colored-candy-ball-thingies. Sometimes, I just really want to shake those little suckers and see them bounce. Last week, that urge turned into a full-on proverbial rash. So, I made cupcakes.
My Cupcake
Clearly I will never get a job at Sprinkles. I used Betty Crocker’s lemon cake mix, Betty Crocker’s pre-made vanilla icing and Betty Crocker nonpariels. I followed the directions. I even remembered to turn off the mixer before pulling it from the bowl.
But Betty forgot to emphasize that batter behaves like The Blob as it cooks. She failed to mention that paper cupcake holders do not retain their form if placed on a cookie sheet instead of in a muffin tin. She neglected to insist that people like me only be allowed in the kitchen with supervision.
My cupcakes baked into pancakes.
Cupcake in Profile
What does one do with 24 very tasty, but deformed, lemon cupcakes covered in thick icing and generously decorated with nonpariels – particularly since, once I’d done my sprinkle-shaking, my enthusiasm for the entire venture morphed into mild shame at the visual outcome?
I couldn’t let these poor step-children suffer the ridicule of my co-workers, knowing their complete lack of aesthetic appeal. I couldn’t keep them in the house, knowing they might all disappear within the generous space of three meals. I couldn’t relegate them to the dumpster, knowing I’d only be enabling the local raccoons’ sugar addictions. So, instead, I hid them under tin foil and gave them to my next door neighbors of 2 years, whose names I do not know.
Lo and behold, my neighbors loved my dear, misshapen cupcakes. Now, they think I’m the best neighbor, ever. They’ve even made a point of seeking me out with offers to eat more of my cupcakes whenever I choose to make them again.
This whole experience has taught me a few things. First, 24 cupcakes translates into a LOT of cupcakes. Also, there’s some truth to that old adage about finding pleasure in the simple things, and joy in the kitchen. Lastly, people are surprisingly jovial after you unexpectedly feed them dessert.
Now, if only I could remember my neighbors’ names…
It’s been a crazy couple of weeks chez moi. I’m being pulled in 20 different directions. I feel like every aspect of my life has been put up for review, and found wanting. Of course, this is only my perception. I can’t see the bigger picture. I do know, however, that I have no road map for where I’m going. And, more importantly, I have no clear concept of where I want to go. I am easily distracted by flash and bang. I hesitate to commit to a course of action. There are so many possible directions in which to go, and I don’t want to take the wrong route. I fear a dream is dying, but I’m not ready to say my goodbyes. At the same time, strange doors are opening, but I don’t know where they lead. I am at a crossroads. I have been here before. So I am behaving according to the script I’ve always followed. Instead of letting myself grieve my potential loss or, alternately, tightening my bootstraps in anticipation of the unknown, I watch myself fall into inertia, into chaos, into disastrous disorder. It might seem odd to compare chaos to inertia, since chaos suggests movement. Imagine a hamster wheel at Mach 2, however, and you’ll know what I mean. In many ways, I’m comfortable with this chaos. After all, repetition breeds familiarity. But just because it is familiar, doesn’t mean it brings me pleasure.
Chaos
What if I change my perception, however? What if I decide to look at this chaos the way the Greeks did? What if my life isn’t in disorder but, rather, in a state without form? Then there is hope. Maybe I can take that flying leap off the spinning wheel. Maybe I can make that single step, in any direction, without analysis or even thought. Maybe I can simply close my eyes and trust that the chaos in which I find myself is actually blossoming into a new, better and more beautiful pattern for my life. I think, if I can do that, great pleasure awaits. I’ll let you know…
In the meantime, what do you do when you feel the tug of chaos pulling at you?
