It hit me the other day that I really kind of miss baking, so I took it into my pretty little pointed head to make a Red Velvet layer cake. So, off we went to the store to acquire some ingredients for the cake and icing, and then home to put them to good use.

Well! I think the cake itself turned out pretty good (if a little lumpy, due to my failure to let the butter soften), and was certainly every bit as red as I could have hoped for. It's got an interesting flavour, just enough chocolate coming through, and it seemed to be decently moist.

Bolstered by my success, I moved onto the frosting.

Oh, dear. The first one, which pairs with the cake, came out as this yellowish soupy mess, was completely irredeemable, and had to be discarded. The second one, due to my using normal sugar and Magic Bullet-ing it rather than showing a hint of common sense and waiting until I could pick up some confectioners' sugar, was horribly grainy.

Also, I continue to be a moron when it comes to waiting, so I tried to ice the cake too soon, which involved the top layer sliding right off the bottom.

Final result: My husband heroically finished his entire slice, but I could only make it through half. In fact, the only one excited about this cake is the dog. And his standards are not that high. (Hee, I love that commercial!)

Meanwhile, I am still a cashier, much to the dismay of my fraying sanity. I keep wanting to ask the chef if he has an opening in the deli, but I keep chickening out. Someday...

Also, in light of the above events, it's rather funny that this store was originally interviewing me to fill a Bakery Assistant position. Dodged a bullet there, Paulina. ^^;;

http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/TaintedByTheFanbase

Ahh, the story of my fannish life... *sentimental tear*

Well! I just tried my first bird's eye chili pepper, and let me say, I don't think I'll be doing that again. Also, I have kind of given up on the idea of trying a habanero by itself. I think my head might actually explode if I do.

Yes, it seems that as much as I may wish otherwise, spicy just isn't for me. I'll just be over there, with my wuss-ass banana peppers. But not too many, mind. ^^;;

Related to absolutely nothing, we got burgers last night, and were wildly amused when our Siren-kitty expressed a LOT of interest in Nat's cheeseburger. It was far too adorable watching her bat at it, and even more adorable watching her lean forward and attempt to take a chomp. Yes, Siren, you can has cheeseburger. Alas, you are too adorable for us to deny you much of anything.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4LZsceko7WE

*flails*

Cuddy in jeans...a guy in a Mr. T costume...House in the wrong 80's...slowdancing...Darnit, be more November 9th!

http://www.dailypuppy.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=4171&st=0&sk=t&sd=a

Okay, how the HELL is there drama on The Daily Puppy?

Oh, right; it's on the internet.

Anyway, it was just a small skirmish, but notable in its illustration that no matter what the subject, the internet can turn anything into a confrontation.

( All this over whether or not tomatoes are safe to feed a dog? )

Anyway, I came out of this whole thing fangirling ixemul, and a lot less respect for Phyrie, mostly for continuing to crap all over Snowy and Me until a sufficient quota of groveling had been reached. The latter was pretty disappointing, as I'd really enjoyed reading her posts (and probably still will, when she's not being a self-righteous asshole and making it as unpleasant as possible for people to seek information).

Nat says that he wasn't at all surprised that she'd exhibit a fairly striking show of assholeism, given that she earlier informed me (quite rightly, I think) that I had condemned a shelter dog to death by buying Foxtrot from a pet store at a cost that could have rescued ten dogs. While I can't exactly bring myself to regret buying our little boo, part of me wishes we'd waited and gone through a shelter instead of snapping up the first adorable fuzzball to stare beseechingly at us for several minutes. I think the reason we didn't go with a rescue is that we didn't know if, as first-time dog owners, we were properly equipped to help a rescue overcome what issues it might have picked up. Also, we didn't know that breeders charged so much less than the average pet store, and that buying at a pet store kept the puppy mills in business.

Oh, well. Next time, we'll get a shelter dog. Although, thinking about what we'll do after Foxtrot pops off makes me sad. ;_;

Well, it's another quiet Friday evening, and our furkids are both enjoying a delightful treat. For Foxtrot, that means a couple of raw chicken feet; for Siren, it's the remains of the gummed up flour and egg we used for supper tonight (panko breaded fish, as it is insanely easy).

You know, I'm glad I'm not a cat or a dog. Not that raw chicken foot and gooey egg and flour mixture don't sound great, but I'd miss the Slurpees.

What do you think of feeding a dog on a raw diet?

I'm considering it for Foxtrot. Part of the reason is, he's a terribly picky eater, and it'll take him several days to finish one day's worth of dog food. His energy is still (very, very, very) high, and wilting delicately away seems to be the last thing from his mind, but I'm still worried that he's not getting enough of what he needs. Soooo, I thought a raw diet might be the way to go. One girl on the Daily Puppy forums said that her dogs started showing a lot more interest in food since they switched to raw than they had with kibble or canned dog food.

And, with the size of our little boo, one whole chicken could probably keep him fed for a week. XD

Well, I guess it started okay. I did get randomly called into work on Tuesday because one of the supervisors was sick, which flubbed up my half-formed plans to do something nice and romantic for my husband to celebrate our two-year wedding anniversary, but money is good, so I didn't mind all that much.

And then yesterday. Ahhh, yesterday. I had a 4:00-9:00 shift, which was pretty nice. I got the dinner rush, and the fun of closing. And also, a quick-change artist. And I frickin' FELL FOR IT. ;_;

A guy comes up to my till with a box of cereal, goes to pay with a hundred dollar bill (alarm bells would have probably started going off, if this hadn't been the fourth one of the evening, which I suppose is what comes of working in a community full of tenured university profs), and then changes his mind after I've started counting out the change. He takes his hundred back, changes his mind again (without giving back the hundred, which I unfortunately don't notice until later, on account of his extremely impatient demeanour), leaves seventy five cents so he'll get back a nice even ninety five dollars, takes the ninety-five dollars, and bolts for the door, leaving me stammering confusedly about how he forgot to give me the hundred back.

Luckily, my supervisor was really nice about it, and did not fire me for being a moron, which makes me want to build a shrine to her in my closet. &hearts

Our dog, we have learned, is obsessed with dandelions. Not the yellow ones - he likes to eat the white fluff. He likes it so much that he can spot a dandelion from way across the field, and then takes off towards it at top speed. And let me tell you, it's embarrassing, being towed around by a ten-pound dog.

Anyway, the way that he just sort of veers off the path whenever he notices one, gallops towards it heedless of what we're doing or where we're trying to go, has led us to the conclusion that walking our dog is like grouping with an Herbalist in WoW.

So, we took Siren to have her spayed on Friday, and we picked her up Saturday, and ever since we got her home, she's been Velcro-Cat. She follows either me or Nat around every second she can, and it seems I've sat down in the last two days, a kitty in a cone has materialized in my lap, where she promptly snuggles up and starts purring.

This is all kind of baffling to me, because I have to admit, if someone dragged me off to get my ovaries and uterus removed against my will, cuddling with them probably wouldn't be first thing on my list upon getting home. My theory is, Siren is either incredibly forgiving, feels miserable enough that her need for comforting cuddles overrides her bitterness towards us, or she doesn't remember the part where we took her to the vet, only that we're associated with her nice, safe home.

Our main problem now involves keeping her away from Foxtrot, lest she re-open her sutures during their decidedly boisterous play. I did find it rather cute, however, that the first thing he tried to do was take off her cone. I know it was just so he could chew on it or something, but I'm pretending that it's because he remembers how much it sucked when he had to wear it, and he wants to rescue her from it. Yes, I live in my own little world. XD

One thing kind of worries me: she's usually pretty vocal (hence the name), but since we brought her home yesterday she's been super-duper vocal. It doesn't sound to me like a pained meow (plus her incision looks fine), or a hungry meow (and she's back on her normal feeding schedule), and it is usually accompanied by rubbing up against our hands (which suggests to me "cuddles nao, plz"), but I know little of the language of cats, and I hate to think that she could be in pain, while her oblivious Mommy just keeps pouring on the snuggles and treats. :(