Cake Bites.
aka DIY project from Hell
Remaining cake bites.
So I expected my bridal party to help me out with this one. The only day both of them have off is Sunday. I always work on Sunday. So, I take a day off solely for the sake of cake bite creation with my lovely sister and sister-in-law.
Well guess what? Neither one of them shows to the only thing I ask them to help me with. My SIL barely bothers to call and tell me she's got a headache (code word for HANGOVER).
It's not like I was a bitch about it, either! I didn't say, "Hey, get your asses over to my place this Sunday for mandatory crafting." NO, I kindly asked, "Would you please help me with this one thing? It's going to be really difficult for me to do by myself, and I really need your help...." And they both said, "Yes, of course! We would love to help you with this one thing! We would hate to see you do this all alone!" After all, they were well aware from the get-go that I had a LOT of DIY to do. But every single thing you see on this page was done by me, myself, and I. Because I have irresponsible, self-absorbed, disorganized ASSHOLES in my bridal party. And that is not an exaggeration. Who the hell goes out and gets shit-faced the night before something really important? They do. Who the hell COMPLETELY RUINS gown-shopping fun by storming out in a rage because people are paying attention to ME, and not YOU?? They do.
Ok, so I'm already pissed off by these bitches completely disregarding the plans we had for today. I get all my materials together and then realize I don't have a double-boiler. Ok, pack everything up and mozy on over to my parents house. Forget to bring camera. Hence, why there are no pictures of this disaster. Not like I was in the mood to take pictures anyway.
So baking the cake was fun. I let the cake cool for about 15 minutes. This is not enough time. While I was standing in my parents kitchen, crumbling this cake, staining my hands, clothes, and hair with red velvet, I realized it was a little warm. The warmth caused the cake crumbs to be mushy. Uggh whatever. Maybe this will help it stick together into balls?
To further crumble the cake, I decide I can throw the already-crumbled cake into the food processor. Because I'm an idiot. Then my mom and I spend approximately 22 minutes trying to find the lid to this 800 year old food processor. When we find it, we turn on the food processor..........and discover that the fucking thing doesn't WORK.
Pour cake crumbs back into bowl, making sure to sling some onto the counters and floor. Trip over small dog, who is eating cake crumbs from the floor. Curse dog for being in the way. Dog stares back blankly, and continues eating cake crumbs. Because dogs don't understand ENGLISH.
Move into the dining room, where I can sit down. Remember that I brought gloves. Which are sitting out in the car. Stain freshly-washed car door with a red handprint. Mix icing into cake crumbs. Only use 1/2 the jar, like the instructions say. Feels too dry, so add a little more icing. Now its too mushy. Because nothing is going to go right today. These cake bites are in defiance to my hard work. They looks at me and say, "Haha! You can't do this!" Because cake can talk, of course.
Roll red cake mush-goop into misshapen, lumpy balls of terror. Why not try to make them uniform, and smooth? Because they HATE me. And I hate them back. Little jerks. Continue muttering threatening remarks to bowl of cake mush.
Move back into the kitchen, where the double-boiler and candy melts are. I read somewhere that you should add a tablespoon of Crisco to the candy melts, to thin it out and make it easier to dip. This didn't seem like the "right" consistency. So I add another tbsp. And another. And after about 1/2 cup, it finally looks drippy enough to dip these evil monsters in to. Spoon each cake bite into the candy and carefully remove. Get little cake crumbs in the candy. Start being even more careful, so crumbs don't fall into candy. Look at red-speckled candy and begin dumping cake bites into the candy, quite carelessly.
Realize that the candy coating is nearly transparent on the cake bites. Continue dumping cake bites into candy, no longer caring. After all the cake bites have been dipped and transferred to wax paper, stand back and wonder why the candy isn't hard yet. The first few bites were dipped nearly half an hour ago, surely the candy coating should be hard by now?
Take a nap. Wake up an hour later, go to check on cake bites. Still soft. Wait, people usually use Crisco to make things softer, right? Yeah. They do. Maybe I shouldn't have added so much Crisco. Whatever, it's done now. Break one off the wax paper and take a bite. Cringe while swallowing. This shit is stupid-sweet. Like, disgustingly sweet. And mushy, inside and out. Well, this is all I've got to serve for my birthday, so FUCK IT.
Take two colors of decorating gel, Sparkly Pink and Yellow. Write "Happy Birthday" with Sparkly Pink. Attempt to decorate other bites with yellow flourishes. After tediously drawing tiny swirls with this yellow JUNK, look back at first ones and realize...it slides right off. The pink stays stuck. The yellow slowly, but surely, makes its way from the top of the cake bite all the way to the platter. Throw uncooperative cake bite into kitchen, thinking it will land in the trash. Begin crying as it splatters against a cabinet, two inches from trashcan. Bang head against cabinet as you clean goopy, mushy red mess from cabinet. Let dog eat what's left on the floor. Clean up red dog vomit.
Have a very fun birthday party, making certain that someone brings a cake for adults to eat. Allow nieces to consume as many cake bites as they damn well please, while adults eat the not-so-sweet, much prettier cake from the grocery store. Send wired-up nieces home with asshole sister bridesmaids, who get the payback they deserve.
Two weeks later, discover this post on OffBeatBride. Laugh ass off in recognition of feelings. Decide to add a page about my adventure with cake bites.
Well guess what? Neither one of them shows to the only thing I ask them to help me with. My SIL barely bothers to call and tell me she's got a headache (code word for HANGOVER).
It's not like I was a bitch about it, either! I didn't say, "Hey, get your asses over to my place this Sunday for mandatory crafting." NO, I kindly asked, "Would you please help me with this one thing? It's going to be really difficult for me to do by myself, and I really need your help...." And they both said, "Yes, of course! We would love to help you with this one thing! We would hate to see you do this all alone!" After all, they were well aware from the get-go that I had a LOT of DIY to do. But every single thing you see on this page was done by me, myself, and I. Because I have irresponsible, self-absorbed, disorganized ASSHOLES in my bridal party. And that is not an exaggeration. Who the hell goes out and gets shit-faced the night before something really important? They do. Who the hell COMPLETELY RUINS gown-shopping fun by storming out in a rage because people are paying attention to ME, and not YOU?? They do.
Ok, so I'm already pissed off by these bitches completely disregarding the plans we had for today. I get all my materials together and then realize I don't have a double-boiler. Ok, pack everything up and mozy on over to my parents house. Forget to bring camera. Hence, why there are no pictures of this disaster. Not like I was in the mood to take pictures anyway.
So baking the cake was fun. I let the cake cool for about 15 minutes. This is not enough time. While I was standing in my parents kitchen, crumbling this cake, staining my hands, clothes, and hair with red velvet, I realized it was a little warm. The warmth caused the cake crumbs to be mushy. Uggh whatever. Maybe this will help it stick together into balls?
To further crumble the cake, I decide I can throw the already-crumbled cake into the food processor. Because I'm an idiot. Then my mom and I spend approximately 22 minutes trying to find the lid to this 800 year old food processor. When we find it, we turn on the food processor..........and discover that the fucking thing doesn't WORK.
Pour cake crumbs back into bowl, making sure to sling some onto the counters and floor. Trip over small dog, who is eating cake crumbs from the floor. Curse dog for being in the way. Dog stares back blankly, and continues eating cake crumbs. Because dogs don't understand ENGLISH.
Move into the dining room, where I can sit down. Remember that I brought gloves. Which are sitting out in the car. Stain freshly-washed car door with a red handprint. Mix icing into cake crumbs. Only use 1/2 the jar, like the instructions say. Feels too dry, so add a little more icing. Now its too mushy. Because nothing is going to go right today. These cake bites are in defiance to my hard work. They looks at me and say, "Haha! You can't do this!" Because cake can talk, of course.
Roll red cake mush-goop into misshapen, lumpy balls of terror. Why not try to make them uniform, and smooth? Because they HATE me. And I hate them back. Little jerks. Continue muttering threatening remarks to bowl of cake mush.
Move back into the kitchen, where the double-boiler and candy melts are. I read somewhere that you should add a tablespoon of Crisco to the candy melts, to thin it out and make it easier to dip. This didn't seem like the "right" consistency. So I add another tbsp. And another. And after about 1/2 cup, it finally looks drippy enough to dip these evil monsters in to. Spoon each cake bite into the candy and carefully remove. Get little cake crumbs in the candy. Start being even more careful, so crumbs don't fall into candy. Look at red-speckled candy and begin dumping cake bites into the candy, quite carelessly.
Realize that the candy coating is nearly transparent on the cake bites. Continue dumping cake bites into candy, no longer caring. After all the cake bites have been dipped and transferred to wax paper, stand back and wonder why the candy isn't hard yet. The first few bites were dipped nearly half an hour ago, surely the candy coating should be hard by now?
Take a nap. Wake up an hour later, go to check on cake bites. Still soft. Wait, people usually use Crisco to make things softer, right? Yeah. They do. Maybe I shouldn't have added so much Crisco. Whatever, it's done now. Break one off the wax paper and take a bite. Cringe while swallowing. This shit is stupid-sweet. Like, disgustingly sweet. And mushy, inside and out. Well, this is all I've got to serve for my birthday, so FUCK IT.
Take two colors of decorating gel, Sparkly Pink and Yellow. Write "Happy Birthday" with Sparkly Pink. Attempt to decorate other bites with yellow flourishes. After tediously drawing tiny swirls with this yellow JUNK, look back at first ones and realize...it slides right off. The pink stays stuck. The yellow slowly, but surely, makes its way from the top of the cake bite all the way to the platter. Throw uncooperative cake bite into kitchen, thinking it will land in the trash. Begin crying as it splatters against a cabinet, two inches from trashcan. Bang head against cabinet as you clean goopy, mushy red mess from cabinet. Let dog eat what's left on the floor. Clean up red dog vomit.
Have a very fun birthday party, making certain that someone brings a cake for adults to eat. Allow nieces to consume as many cake bites as they damn well please, while adults eat the not-so-sweet, much prettier cake from the grocery store. Send wired-up nieces home with asshole sister bridesmaids, who get the payback they deserve.
Two weeks later, discover this post on OffBeatBride. Laugh ass off in recognition of feelings. Decide to add a page about my adventure with cake bites.