I Am So Imperfect It Makes Me Sick

So, I baked my first-ever cake from scratch and decorated it with homemade frosting. I was on cloud nine, I mean, look at this thing, it is gorgeous!

And just a note to all you future frosting makers out there- abandon the crisco, stick with butter. Crisco does make the frosting more fluffy, but the taste is not so hot.

Anyway, back to my cake adventure. So I created this beautiful cake- sans color because I have yet to find all natural food coloring- and was feeling mighty proud. I didn't even dig into it right away, I waited to show if off that evening. Of course the first second after I had proudly displayed my amazing talent (read with dripping sarcasm) I cut myself a piece. With that first bite I was ready for baking perfection, an amazing feat of baking skill like the world had never known...but the texture was...off. The center wasn't quite done- even though my toothpick had come out clean. No big deal I figured, I would just avoided that area and eat the outside part. But it was too late, the food poisoning had already snuck its way in (salmonella anyone?). Two hours later, I was one sick girl. It brings the idea of internally knowing my imperfections to a whole new meaning.

Needless to say, the cake ended up in the garbage. Maybe I should be like the Caesars of ancient Rome and have a person taste/test my food first... of course that could be seen as some sort of extreme abuse so I guess I will stick with sacrificing myself.

Next up, belly dancing.

Jumping Into The Deep End Of Failing

Oh my, what have I gotten myself into? I have officially started my quest to expose my imperfections... and boy-oh-boy did I land in the deep end.

Cake decorating might not have been the best thing to start off with. You see, despite what some of my loved ones might say, I lack nearly any inkling of artistic ability (see proof below)... and my cooking isn't all that great either. I once made fudge that never hardened, not even when frozen, and no, there was no liquor in the batter. Looking back on it, I really should have kept that and submitted it to science to be studied ;-)

Yes, it's fuzzy, but you get the idea.

Normally, my version of baking/decorating a cake is buying a pre-made cake at the bakery and sticking a candle in it. Although I confess I have on occasion bought cake mix and pre-made frosting to what is often a disastrous end. So what better way to begin exploring and exposing my imperfections than to be humbled in a class of 21 people as I try to keep my unsteady hand from worsening my already horrendous handwriting and my pathetic attempts at artistic design.

Note to all you (probably non-existent) readers out there: whatever your flaw- crappy handwriting, lack of artistic ability, etc- it is exaggerated when done in icing. Beware of the icing, it is out to get you.

Taking my seat at the front of the class, other students began to trickle in as the hour approached and I soon realized that while this class may be advertised for beginners, most of these women were far from it. I took little comfort in the fact that I was in good company with the two- very miserable looking- men (note to all the women out there, spare your men, don't force them to take cake decorating classes). These women were greeting each other by name, discussing the cakes they have created, and talking about how much they enjoyed taking a previous class with this same instructor. It was as if the universe had taken advantage of my vulnerability and schemed to make this as difficult as possible for me. And to make matters even worse, I was seated next to a woman who worked in a bakery... as a cake decorator! (I mean really, why was she there? just to showoff?) I could already begin to feel the perfectionist in me yearn to go home and decorate a hundred cakes until I was better than everyone in the room, including the instructor!

We made our introductions and then created parchment paper icing tubes and began piping butter cream icing onto our "cakes" (which for this class are merely cardboard cake plates).

The first hour of class passed agonizingly slowly as I grew more determined to perfect everything I was doing. But no matter how many things I added to my "cake" it just kept looking worse and worse. But then, halfway through, I remembered why I was there and I began to let it go. My lines had gaps in them and my writing sucked and still I let it go. I began to just enjoy the process of watching my creating come to life, not really caring that it wasn't going to win any cake decorating contests. I stopped trying to create the best and just enjoyed the process of creating it, regardless of the outcome. And I'll admit, I actually ended up having fun.

And, in the spirit of exposing my flaws and accepting the imperfections within myself, I have even posted a picture of my creation below.

A Little Dazed and Confused

I am a competitive perfectionist. There, I said it.

If I am going to do something, I am going to do it right and I am going to do it better than everyone else. This of course gets in the way of the old saying, practice makes perfect. And it is because of this competitive perfectionistic mentality that I usually end up doing nothing at all.

I have spent my whole life competing against everyone else- worse, in a race that existed in my mind alone. The decisions I’ve made, the paths I have taken, they were all dictated by my need to be perfect and better than everyone else. The perfect job. The perfect man. The perfect house. Hell, even the perfect dog.

But something has gone terribly wrong. I work at a job that barely makes ends meet and isn’t even in a field I enjoy. I haven’t dated in over 2 years. I'll pause to give you time to recover... are you back with me? I have moved back in with my parents- did I mention I am 25? And my beagle refuses to keep his nose out of the trash and stay inside the fence. What the hell happened?

I have always told myself that these things are minor sacrifices for a better future. I live with my parents so that I can save money on rent and buy a house. I am not dating because I haven’t found the right guy (read: perfect). But the truth is, my savings account is embarrassingly small, dwindled away on expensive haircuts and clothes that validate me and I spend my nights watching reruns of Bones, because I refuse to date a guy that isn’t perfect. And it has suddenly occurred to me; while I have been waiting for my perfect life, the one that will live up to my expectations and make everyone else green with envy, I have created a nearly non-existent life and I am missing out on, well, everything. How did that happen?

So, since I have so much time on my hands I have decided to go in search of a life. But not just any life, my life. One that isn't perfect or motivated by competition... well at least mostly ;-) To do this, I will try one new thing each week... and I will accept that I will not be perfect at it. And, I will blog about it. I figure at least this way I have some accountability. Then again, I don't think anyone's reading this...

First up: Cake decorating class next Monday.