I made cake last night.
Chocolate cake. Real good chocolate cake.
Still, not as good as my standard recipe but hella tasty and cray-cray easy.
Sidebar: I deserve mad props for even attempting to post this, given my current bout of extreme nausea. Thankfully, I’m back at the doctor on Wednesday and fingers crossed, I’ll be on my way to new information. But seriously, I’m so frickin tired of feeling nauseous.
But right, I made cake. I got some new cocoa powder from Trader Joe’s and saw the recipe on the back of the box. I cut it in half (no WAY can CDR and I eat THAT much cake) and away I went.
I put all ingredients in the KitchenAid (and ok, CDR–you were right…I DO use it a lot, it IS totally worth the cost, and I LOVE it) and mixed it all up.
Then I poured the batter into the pan, gave it a little shake (to release air bubbles), and popped it in the 350 degree oven for 50 minutes (or until a toothpick comes out clean).
A frosting trick I learned to keep the cake from “crumbing” (crumbs infest the frosting) is to brush a simple syrup over the cake. I opted for a cinnamon simple syrup (equal parts sugar and water and two cinnamon sticks boiled until sugar is dissolved and simmered until syrup gets syrupy) and just brushed it all over.
Finished with a light layer of chocolate frosting and some strawberries on top.
And those typical feels keep on coming. Yesterday was pretty awesome. I had an easy open house and came home to a quiet apartment which I cleaned and then proceeded to annihilate with cake stuff.
I think I’m in total Cape withdrawal, however. I’m missing the ocean and the inspiration. I’m a little out of sorts, being back–but hey, lez be real I’ve BEEN out of sorts. Combination of twenty-something woes, a constantly nauseated body, and well…YOU know. Same ol’, same ol’. Maybe it is a little bit of a run-away syndrome, but being back on the Cape–it was like my soul had come home to rest. From a physical standpoint- my body hadn’t felt that great in so long. And mentally–oh sweet relief!
*Time out…voice lesson.
So, I just had a voice lesson, as stated an hour and a half ago (see above). I sang For Good, from Wicked because for one: it’s maybe the most tolerable Schwartz song ever and for two: it’s time to start singing the healing songs. The “bright side” songs. The ACTUAL sorting through it songs–not the bitter ones (although I do rock a mean Carrie Underwood).
This is the part where I acknowledge that everything happens for a reason. The Universe and synchronicity work in mysterious ways and from every relationship there is a lesson to be learned.
What did I learn here? Well, I’ve learned a lot about myself. That’s a given and a stated. I’d like very much to say that despite everything, I’m able to trust like I could before–but that’s not true. I’ve learned caution. I operate now under the assumption that in dealing with men, you should be cautious (and might I add CDR is a blessing and takes this all like a champ) because they are capable of anything.
“Who can say if I’ve been changed for the better? But because I knew you, I have been changed for good.”
I’ve been changed. I can’t un-know what I do, or go back in time. I’ll always be hurt by this, but I can be comforted by knowing I learned something–many things about myself. And maybe that’s why this had to happen? I learned about myself. My strength, my weaknesses, my fears, my love, my power. I learned that I lean towards a manic-pixie-dream-girl trope, and I learned how to use that for good rather than for…less good.
“I’ve heard it said,
That people come into our lives
For a reason
Bringing something we must learn.
And we are lead to those
Who help us most to grow if we let them.
And we help them in return.
Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true
But I know I’m who I am today
Because I knew you.”
Who knows why any of it happened? In one moment, everything changed and we both behaved in ways acceptable only in high school or reality television. But we learned. Or at least, I did.
I wonder what he learned?
“It is incredibly clear to me that what happened was meant to happen.” I wonder if he knows why?
Can’t blame a girl for trying.