Trauma.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013. 

It's a day I will never forget. 

The shock, forever burned in my memory. 

So many fallen.

So many lost

eyelashes. 

That particular morning something caused my arm to twist; a bump, a nudge, a sporadic muscle twitch. 

The hand attached to that arm was mid-clamp with an eyelash curler. 

That twisted arm made that clamped hand accidentally rip out half the lashes on my right eye. 

Pain never set in.

I was in shock. 

A pile of my precious long black lashes collected in my lap. 

I felt my eyelid, and the void. 

I couldn't bring myself to look in the mirror. 

I was in a rush for work. 

I threw my glasses on in hopes to mask it. 

My office is across the street from a mall, and in that mall is a Sephora. 

But Sephora didn't open for another two hours. 

Those two hours were agony. 

Seconds passed by.

I was standing outside the glass doors of the store waiting for them to be unlocked. 

I rushed in at 9:30:01 am.

"Can I help you?"

"I've had a traumatic eyelash curler incident."

Gasp. "Noooo!"

"I need your help."

"Of course! Oh my goodness, are you ok? Come sit down,

 don't worry we'll fix it."

"Can it be filled in with false lashes?"

"I'll make it look like it never happened. Stay here, don't move,

 I'll get everything we'll need."

Holding back warm tears of gratitude, shock and what seemed to be displaced shame, "thank you."

New lashes, newly lined lids, freshly pampered face and a bag of free samples, I went back to work. 

Based on the one website I did research on, before I became depressed, eyelashes grow in cycles. 

The cycle lasts a few weeks. 

Depending on when in the cycle my lashes were ripped out, it could take months for fresh ones to replace them. 

My heart sank. 

My future is eyelash glue, for months. 

Last night I finally allowed myself to look in the mirror.

Dead on. 

No fakes. 

No makeup. 

Brace yourself, I'm going to show you too. 

This is my healthy, all clean, left eye:

And my half bald right eye: 

I still shudder when I see that. 

If you feel compelled to send condolence flowers, in lieu, send cash and checks to my 

I-need-to-fill-the-void-with-mindless-shopping-including-a-stock hold-of-fake-lashes Fund. 

Why cook when you can go out?

I currently have a person in my life where our friendship blossomed specifically out of our mutual love of going out to eat and a distinct ever-present need for cake. 

Now he grew up around here and knows the ins and outs

 of all the local eateries. 

And boy have we had some delicious food. 

If you're planning a trip to the Seattle Metro area, eat here:

El Gaucho

eat the chocolate bourbon cake.

Pearl

eat the friend cheese curds. 

John Howie Steak

eat the volacno cake.

Buddha Ruska

eat the crispy garlic chicken.

But don't eat the heat-up-yourself-lava-cakes from the frozen section at QFC, not so good.

Martha Martha Martha.

So every morning at work I open the reception desk. I sit there for about an hour every day until the actual receptionist gets in (apparently making her work the full 10 hours reception is open is cruel).

It is not the most titillating place to be at 7:30 am. 

I started the habit a couple weeks ago to write a daily email to my two besties, Monica and Caitlin. 

It began because the story I had to tell them on that particular day would have taken about a month and a half to type out in a text message. 

Since then it's become a daily ritual.

They're essentially my diary. 

It's great to have a diary that not only responds to you,
 but it has two points of view.

They got so into, they each send me an angry or disappointed (those are worse) message when they don't get their email promptly that morning. 

Anyway, this morning, after a response from diary Monica, I thought to myself, man I would love to be Martha Stewart. I want her life. Minus the jail part, which diary Monica made sure to point out to me. 

I like throwing parties, cooking things, crafting, decorating and gardening, why can't I get paid to tell people how to do it all? I especially love telling people how to do things. It would be awesome. 

When I need a recipe, I go to Martha.

When I need a party decor idea, I go to Martha

When I need crafting supplies, I go to Martha.

For now, I'll just fork over my money to Martha every time I go to Micheal's. 

BBall Baked Goods.

As the self-appointed, team-appreciated ward church ball team mom, I bake a lot of goods.

And I'd thought I'd share what I've done. 

By the way, I always take orange slices for a during game snack, but I spice it up by taking Cara Cara oranges. They are deliciouser. 

After the first week of traditional rice krispie treats, I started taking requests. 

First off was Rocky Road Brownies.

With this recipe you really want to make sure the marshmallows get a little toasty brown, that way they are gooey all the way through. And I used chopped walnuts, I think they go best with brownies. But only on half in case one of the boys could die from nuts.

Next was chocolate covered fruit. One of the team members works at the Seattle Chocolate factory and he gave me some chocolate to use. I melted down peanut butter filled bars and dipped bite size banana pieces and then popped them in the freezer. Ooo those were good. I also dipped strawberries in semi-sweet chocolate for good measure. 

Week four, the request was salted caramel frosting, on anything. So I found the following recipes and made up a concoction. 

Caramel Buttercream. and the Caramel sauce from this recipe. 

And here's what I did: made the caramel sauce, it was surprisingly easy and supes delicious; things get that way when there's a whole stick of butter in 'em. Next I cooked up some devil's food cupcakes. After they cooled completely, I cut little cones out of the top-along the same line as cutting the top of a jack-o-lantern. I drizzled some caramel inside and put the cone back. Then, I made the buttercream. It didn't come out with a very good texture. I don't really know what I did wrong, but I'm positive it's my fault and not Martha's. So instead of frosting the cupcakes, I smeared some of the "buttercream" on like a glaze, sprinkled some coarse sea salt on top, and put a mini rolo on top of that. I call them Rolo cupcakes and they may be the best thing I've ever made. 

Fifth week the request was scotcheroos, which I have never made before. I found this recipe on the Karo Syrup website which means it's probably the healthiest thing ever. 

They turned out great. And the requester literally took an armful of them home. They aren't my favorite, butterscotch has never been at the top of my list. And mixing the rice krispies with the peanut butter syrup is sooo much harder than regular rice krispies. Good Luck.

And now for possibly the last week, unless we win (it's the tournament now). I wanted to make cupcakes. And since I didn't get any requests from any players, I'm fulfilling my own request. I'm making snickerdoodle cupcakes.

They're baking right now and smelling delicious. Cross your fingers that's how my frosting turns out like this. Frosting consistency seems to be my downfall.