Let’s start with cake.

In case you’re new, or don’t remember everything you read on every blog, Sweet Daughter is rather fond of cats. She requested a “Hello Kitty” cake for her sixth birthday. So we poked around the interwebz and came up with our version of the Hello Kitty Cake. I am no artiste when it comes to cake decorating. I've always preferred a cake taste good over looking good, so a professional-looking cake has never been a priority. Here's what we did ...

Start with a two-layer cake mix/recipe. Bake one 9” circle and one 9” square.  Attempt to have the cakes come out of the oven at approximately the same height. If you are actually successful, go out and buy yourself a lottery ticket because your luck is just that good.

If you’re really “detail oriented”, cut a circle and square out of paper the same size as your cakes in order to make a pattern so you don’t mess up when it comes time to cut the actual the cake. Go ahead and cut your cake pieces and realize that they bear only a faint resemblance to the paper pieces.

Go ahead and dry fit the pieces together and notice that the parts from the center of the cake are MUCH higher than the parts from the edge. Take a serrated knife, and carefully saw off some of the high spots while shrugging your shoulders and assuring yourself that the frosting will hide a multitude of sins.

Slap some icing on the pieces of cake like mortar on bricks and stick them together. Recall something about a “crumb coat” from reading all those fancy cake-decorating sites, and carefully ice the sides of the cake, then the top. Calculate how much icing you have left and start filling in the low spots. Congratulate yourself when you realize you’re made just the right amount to frost the whole cake and have it look somewhat level even if it does look more like a mummy than a kitty.

Try to make a bow out of “Fruit by the Foot” and silently curse whoever thought it would be a good idea to run serpentine lines down the length of the thing, causing it to fall to pieces. End up shoving a couple of rows together to make a wider piece on top of a piece of waxed paper. Cut out a bow shape. Realize you can’t peel the waxed paper off because everything is too sticky and floppy. Stick the whole thing in the freezer and see if that helps. (It does.) Quickly peel the waxed paper off the rapidly thawing bow and slap it on the cake, thanking the stars above that your daughter thinks you just worked magic instead of fussing about a sub-par bow.

Add jelly-beans for the eyes and nose, black gel icing for the whiskers, and do not obsess about things you'd do differently. Instead, bask in the glow when the birthday girl tells you that you “rock” and gives you a hug of epic proportion, and vow to remember this in 10 years when you can do nothing right.

Long time ...

… no blog.

Let’s see …

Earthquake, hurricane, major changes at work (I’m still employed for now at least, yay!), Sweet Daughter’s 6^th birthday, the first day of school and the added responsibilities of 1^st grade and the additional homework, a tropical storm and rain of “biblical proportions” (we’re fine, we’re on the “up” side of a hill), trying to explain to SD what happened on September 11^th ten years ago (at one point I was fighting back tears and all but yelling “I really, REALLY HATE BAD GUYS!”), and helping my sister with a massive yard sale.

Time to start catching up.

Last Monday, Sweet Daughter and I went to the Regional Amusement Park. The good news is that I found some great discount tickets online, and the weather was perfect like only the back side of a hurricane can be. Mid 80’s, sunny, breezy, and no humidity. Not only that, there weren’t any lines. Nada. None. Zilch. Zippo.  The longest we had to wait was for any given attraction to finish its current run and then it was our turn.

The bad news is that they don’t let you go armed. They don’t even let you carry a pocket knife -- although they did let me check it at the front gate so I didn’t have to go back to the car. (Well that, and the fact that none of the roller coasters that SD could ride had enough room for my knees.)

SD wanted to wear matching shirts, and while I’ve always secretly laughed at families that do that, I will admit that there are some distinct advantages. The people running the rides can tell which kid you belong to. If, heaven forbid, you were to get separated, you can point to yourself and say “she was wearing a shirt like this!” But best of all, if you choose wisely, you can influence how you are perceived.  Because nothing says “I’m not a victim, nor am I a threat -- unless you mess with me first” like matching Kalishnikitty shirts.

Oxymoron

In lieu of actual content while we wait for Irene to show up, I present one of the more interesting searches that have shown up in my tiny little corner of the internet:

I mean wouldn't a "milf dog" be a contradiction in terms?

Black listed

SayUncle linked to me last Thursday and the hits started rolling in. And then I saw this, which I found hysterical. S.W.A.T. Magazine's Facebook page? Linked to me? That's like a gourmet magazine linking to my scones recipe or something. It tickled me to no end.

But getting black listed? That was best of all. Thanks!

Magazine Maintenance

I won't go into the care a feeding of magazines here, because what do I know about it, anyway other than you need to keep the lint and dirt out of them, and clean them thoroughly from time to time? What I do know is this ... you're supposed to label them. This is so you can tells yours apart from all the rest when shooting with friends. This is so you can narrow it down in case there is one magazine that is causing problems with your firearm.

I hadn't gotten around to it because, well, I don't have that many magazines, and I knew I'd spend way too much time obsessing about some sort of obscure code that would indicate if that mag was for my defensive ammo or my plinking ammo, the date I purchased the it, etc. I'd research the best labeling method, and select the best font for readability. Basically, I was over-thinking the whole thing. Sweet Daughter solved the problem for me today. What do you think?

Two of them sit on the right side of my shoulder rig to balance the weight of the pistol on the other side. Yup. They sit there right along my ribcage, bottoms facing out. So much for staying "low key".

Another OC update

I’ve got a dark brown t-shirt that sort of blends in with the leather on my shoulder rig. It’s got a floral/leafy design on the front so it looks kind of feminine, and I wear it when I’m trying to stay low-key. I wore it to dinner out last week, and I ran into a co-worker who didn’t even notice the gun. A few days later, the nice young man behind the counter at Chick-Fil-A certainly did, saying that he wished he could carry like that.  (WIN!)

The shirt didn’t seem to help much with the low-key part when Sweet Daughter, Shorter Half and I went to the Large Sporting Goods Store last weekend and the staff commented on the shoulder rig. And all the extra ammo. Can someone please tell me what it is about shoulder rigs? I know I’m a n00b, and don’t yet get all the nuances and inside jokes, but I feel like someone stuck a sign on my back that says “HEY, LOOK! I think I’m a bad-ass! And don’t forget, I’m bristling with ammo, too!”

So much for staying low key.