Stare at the word CAKE for a long time and let me know if it starts looking weird to you....
7:15 p.m. - 2003-04-28
I'm baking my cake, and the damn thing is burning on top.
I, being the type of person who has baked approximately one other cake in her entire life, flip out. I call my mother.
"My cake is burning! On top. What do I do?"
"It needs to be on the middle rack. Is it on the middle rack?"
"I don't know. I'm not in the kitchen. I don't think so, though."
"Put it on the middle rack."
So, off to the kitchen I go to move my cake around. The fucker is ON the middle rack. *freak*
The phone rang four times before she answered it.
"It's on the middle rack. What do I do?"
"I don't know, honey! Turn the heat down or something. We're trying to watch a movie, okay?"
In other words, it's your cake, you big twenty-two year old baby. Negotiate this obstacle by yourself. Your father and I are enjoying our childlessness and watching a freakin' movie, for god's sake.
Yeah, well, thanks mom. Where were you when I was in high school? Back then I would have given my left tit for parents that basically told me to fuck off and do my own thing. Now, when I really need advice about things like cakes, you're nowhere to be found.
I turned the heat down, anyway. It can't hurt.
Yay. It's fine. I'm going to watch t.v. while it cools, then I'll frost and enjoy some fattening yumminess. Mmmmm....caaaaaakeeeee.