Tuesday, April 03, 2007

so let's cut the conversation and get out for a bit

As is everything in my little sphere at the moment, the song this week arrives late. And actually, it's really late, because this song is definitely not in any kind of breaking news category. I picked it because I can be a bit of a contrarian sometimes, and therefore, despite lots of people enthusiastically nudging me to check her out, I'd been shying away from Winehouse. But then, I finally listened to Rehab on Sunday, and that was a big mistake. It was a big mistake because, probably, it's not the best idea to have a song with these lyrics pulsing through your head as you make your way in a full suit to a very important meeting. But that's just the twisted workings of my mind.

I have to be honest, though- I don't love it. It's catchy, but it's also somehow kitschy in a way that usually doesn't work for me. I much prefer Winehouse's You Know I'm No Good. Somehow, the soulfulness comes through more in that song, and even Winehouse's ridiculous 'Tude works better in it. Being belligerent about rehab doesn't really inspire me. On the other hand, rather unapologetically (and yet betraying just the slightest hint of remorse) declaring "I told you I was trouble, you know that I'm no good" is just the kind of understated whatever that ought to pop up in more songs.


A lot of my friends think the amount I bake is proportional to the amount of stress I am feeling, and if that's the case, I guess I am nearing a massive meltdown. Behold the havoc:
but don't forget, folks

Actually there's a consistent theme with the baked goods and the weekend- every well-intentioned thing kept resulting in fiasco. I thought I was laying low this weekend, but actually I was alternating between being social and baking, thereby circumventing any opportunities to be truly productive in any manner whatsoever. However, unlike the social fiascoes, the baking disasters were learning opportunities. The chocolate cream pies were an extensive experiment- I finally got over my fear and decided to try my hand at making pie crust from scratch. The pie crust part was probably okay, but the amount of time I baked the crust, not so much. So, even though the overall result was passable, the crust was undercooked and subsequently ruined the overall flavor. The bro-seph ate one and didn't notice the problem, but I think he was just distracted by the chocolate and cream components. The rest of them were thrown in the trash, but I've determined what I would try to further optimize the recipe in the future.

The blueberry muffins were not completely awful; they just weren't sweet enough. That was easy to remedy, by simply topping them with a glaze. The bro-seph has been consuming these with no complaints whatsoever, and I have been surprised at how well they keep. And it was quite necessary to have them turn out badly, because there is a brunch to be made on Saturday, and no such missteps will be tolerated for that.

I know this is not even vaguely interesting, but believe me, it's better to read my baking rants compared to my social rants. Lately, I have been feeling disappointed in myself and in others. I can kick my own a$$, but I lack the inclination and the energy to kick anyone else's a$$. This might make me easygoing in some ways, but it also makes me removed in others. I'm constantly correcting myself, constantly nudging myself back to self-containment, because I don't honestly believe there is anyone on this earth who I can ever really rely on. And I never really wanted to be the kind of person that believed something that sounds so fundamentally cynical. Yet I am exactly that person and I don't even view it as cynical. It's just a matter of fact, human nature, the laws of physics.

But then I find myself in an interesting conundrum, when pressure exerts itself on such a closed system. I fear I am going to implode, but I would not even know how to go about asking for help, how to poke a hole in my exterior. If anything, when I feel like this, I take everything onto my own shoulders even moreso, and positively arch at advice and helpful suggestions. Talk is cheap, and I don't even have time for questions right now, much less talk of what I should or shouldn't do, should or shouldn't feel. So, I turn inward and my porcupine quills stand on edge and I become very prickly indeed. I never wanted to be like this, and hopefully I won't remain in this state for very long.

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