Gag Me With a Battered Spoon

I'm not a sweets fan at the best of times. But recently I've found them even more repellant. Why? Because it seems Red Velvet cupcakes, pancakes, cookies, brownies(?) waffles and (gagging*) red velvet lattes are the latest revolting rage. Pinterest is filthy with pins of baking that looks like scabs. 

Cupcakes are barely tolerable as it is particularly with their trendy unhealthy icing to cake ratio. Frothy butter cream sits menacingly on top of sad excuses for cup cakes. The only thing that can make these little blobs of diabetes worse is when they are the color of type 'O'.

I don't understand the fascination. You know something is seriously wrong when IHOP gets on board with the fad. How do they get that vibrant red anyway? I've tried to make icing for cookies using red food coloring and it just ends up pink. What sinister goings-on produce that blood red that people apparently find so attractive in deserts? Let's all take a minute and remember the groom's cake from Steal Magnolias. It was in the shape of an armadillo, complete with grey scaly icing, and when it was cut into it was red velvet cake. Absolutely nauseating. 

Others seem as uneasy as I am when it comes to violently colored baking. It is far from appetizing. Having put forth my rant, I can say I have tried "velvet things" primarily in cupcake form. They taste like half-assed chocolate cake. Along with questionable color, vague taste is also a deterent. 

To illustrate my point about Pinterest and poor taste I searched Red Velvet. Out of a few hundred "pins" 3 pertained to fabric. Another disturbing discovery is Blue Velvet. Apparently an unholy shade of blue is also achievable and equally horrific.

In my opinion any food that is the color of absolutely nothing in nature should be avoided. Also things the color of your insides or curtains from the 1500's should also be avoided.

Heed my warning people. 

Moths: An Infestation

Moths: An Infestation

There are a few different kinds of moths. There are the gigantic flappy terrifying moths that hurl their bodies into light bulbs, windows, walls and passers by, which seems to be the only thing they are good at. Then there are the epicurean moths that feast on bits of wheat germ and grains. And there are fashionable moths that nest, eat and crap in pretty much anything. The last two species described are excellent at their jobs. They are dedicated, disgusting and efficient.

I think I was in denial for the past year. Despite holes in cashmere and an increase in sitings, it wasn't until a literally moth eaten cow skin rug was found that the heavy denial really kicked in. That new stage of denial lasted approximately a month. Then one day when I decided to make cookies and hauled out the brown sugar only to find squirming larva all the way through it. I could ignore the problem no longer.  I immediately began pitching dry goods. At first checking the contents of each item, until I began feeling nauseous and just started blindly throwing away everything in the pantry. 

Next it was time to go through the out of season woollen bins in the closets. This wasn't going to be as simple as pitching rolled oats. This required finesse. Over the span of two days there were roughly 10 loads of laundry done. There were several bathtubs filled with scalding water to drown babies and sterilize large items. There was actual nit picking done. Except the nits were in fact cocoons and larvae. With rubber gloves up to my elbows I'd  individually pick bits of moth excrement off of precious articles of clothing. It's true moths only eat wool, the bad news is; they nest in bloody well anything. Cotton, synthetics, straw, you name it. 

I'm scared to go into the storage unit. I know it's a building infestation. And I fear the fallout is going to be huge. Regardless of the type of moth they are basically flying silver fish. Except thank Christ they are much less speedy than silver fish. However when you kill either they turn to dust. This is creepy. So hurray, moths are easily killed when spotted. However they are sneaky and little and can hide places.

The final step was to strategically set up little sticky pheromone laced tents around the flat. These are apparently designed to attract the wretched winged insects and adhere them to the pheromone-y glue lining the inside of the traps. Within minutes of setting my traps the moths came out of the wood work. They went bananas for these things. The moths appeared to be all loved up on fake pheromones and fluttered around the flat all willy nilly. I flailed wildly for about 15 minutes charging around the apartment swatting moths with flip flop in hand. That was enough exercise for the day and I stopped the masacre, unless one came within arms reach of the couch.

By bed time the moth death toll was around 22, including the few trying without much success to release themselves from the sticky traps. The apartment looked like a house of horrors with brown and black smears peppering my pristine pink walls. 

In three months the traps will have worn out, and the apartment may need a fresh lick of paint, but hopefully the moths will be gone. Fingers crossed.

Did you?

Like the acquisition of a pacemaker isn't enough to make a 36 year old woman feel like a geriatric. With my vacation tan fading fast, and the crows feet clawing their way through my epidermis, I am reminded I am geriatric. Now, I didn't hit every single branch when I fell out of the ugly tree, but I no longer carry the blush of youth. I actually have to carry blush. What has begun to drive this point home is the following comment: "Did you used to model?" That's past tense.

Let's face it. I suppose there are worse things people could say. Like " I know what VHS is, I was born in '91!", "Who's Andrew McCarthy?" and "What's an encyclopedia?" I guess looking like an over the hill model is better than looking like a six feet under model.

I mean it's my own damn fault. I like the sun. Sue me. Actually don't. As well as being the wrong side of 30 I'm also penniless. Sunshine is my vice. Other people have different vices, gambling, drinking, crystal meth. To each his own. Mine is carcinogenic levels of Vitamin D. Perhaps booze is a better choice? I think it pickles you. Whatever, I don't have the cash to buy booze and I don't have a life savings to fritter away at the slots.

I suppose stress could be partially to blame for the "aging". It seems to be society's scapegoat. However I think there are stats to prove it may actually be a valid scapegoat. I wouldn't say I'm stressed. But I do my fair share of unnecessary and occasionally necessary worrying. This may not have anything to do with the threat of age-spots, but I wager it's got something to do with the wrinkles, not to mention the cynicism and crabby moods. 

A sure sign of old-age, and one that I'm entirely comfortable with: cantankerous-ness.