Wake Me Up Before You Go-go

The end of the semester is just days away, and things are starting to fly by really fast. I should be doing a thousand other things right now, but I am updating my blog with pictures from the 80's prom we had last weekend. That's right, 80's proms have made their way to Lubbock, and this one was a big hit with the members of my branch, whether they remembered the 80's or not. Here's a shot of me with Ashley, who remembers more 80's and 90's trivia than anyone I know.

She's also one of the greatest dressers I know, both in her regular life and in her pretend life. Look closely at the details, like her earrings and the scarf in her hair. Also, she is wearing socks and high heels. You may be wondering about my costume, as it looks more medieval than Reagan-era. The look I was going for was Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles. Unfortunately, no one in the branch besides Ashley had ever seen that movie.

I am not normally much of a dancer (in public, I mean. In my car, or with Sammie in the living room, I'm a maniac). However, this was an occasion that definitely called for careless disregard of public opinion as I found myself dancing with Rudy to Beat It.  Apparently, he watched the video enough to memorize it, so I followed his lead as we started out on opposite sides of the room and came toward each other in a menacing fashion. What Rudy lacked in costume, he made up for in choreography.

Halfway through the night, my bridesmaid's dress started to get really hot, so I changed. Yes, I realize it was sort of bizarre that I brought a second outfit to the dance in anticipation of getting too hot, but it was not my first church dance. Pinned to my shoulder is a corsage I made in an attempt to hang on to the skills I learned from my floral design class. It was not a great attempt.

However, it was a great night. To finish off this post, I would like to list off a few of my favorite things from the 80's:

• Perms. Why did I frequently have a perm in the 80's? These days, I go out of my way to make my hair NOT curl.
• Debbie Gibson. If my heart could write songs, they'd sound like her.
• Cartoon bad guys. Murky Dismal. Gargamel. The Peculiar Purple Pieman of Porcupine Peak. They had style. I feel only slightly duped to realize that cartoons in the 80's were merely a giant marketing ploy to get parents to buy toys.
• Leggings. 
• Michael J. Fox. Marty McFly and Alex P. Keaton. Classic.

One more thing that I liked about the 80's was that I spent none of them feeling as tired and stressed out as I do right at this moment. I miss that.

NEW POST IN JANUARY!

I don't like that blogger dates my posts from when I start them, rather than when I finish them. I started one in January, but finished it today. It's got pictures of me in my prom dress, if you care enough to find it.

Identity Crisis

Am I a doctor?

According to my degree plan, I'm not even close at this point. However, I don't know that that's really the question I'm asking.

As a therapist, I get paid (now) to make judgment calls on other people. While I try not to say things to people that make them gasp and go, "Yes, that's EXACTLY what I'm feeling!" like I'm some kind of mindreader, I do find that I have pretty good instincts about people. And I have started to notice that, among my own kind, there is a phenomenon I like to call "Doctor Envy." A recent trend in my profession backs this up, I believe. We call it medical family therapy, and, while it means different things in different settings, it often refers to doing family therapy with people who are simultaneously being seen for serious medical issues, such as chronic diseases, children in intensive care units, or infertility. This means that therapists, who do NOT go to medical school, do not put their hands in cadavers, do not do grueling internships or residencies, and do not get paid large salaries when it is all over, get to wander around the hospital wearing a badge and talking to people about what is wrong with them. Like a doctor would. And some of us get PhD's, so they have to call us doctor.

The funny thing is, my profession grew out of a reaction against the way doctors (psychiatrists who, according to most of the medical community, are not really doctors either) treated patients with mental health issues (meaning schizophrenia). So, for a long time, even though MFT founders were trying to create something very different from the medical profession, they were all trained as doctors, so they still thought like doctors (patients, treatment, diagnoses, etc.). Recently, there has been a postmodern movement to see the clients as collaborators in the therapeutic process, and to step down from the expert role. And while I think the majority of therapists I know espouse those ideals, and believe that their clients come in with strengths and collaborate on their treatment, I think we all want to feel special.

What's the point of all this? I just started my new job at the Employee Assistance Program at Texas Tech. Actually, this job is at the Texas Tech Health Sciences Center, which means that, if you REALLY want to get technical, I am working at the hospital. I mean, the building I work in is huge, and the hospital is on the very east end of the building behind some heavy metal double doors, whereas I am on the very west end of the building, but still. Many of my clients work at the Health Sciences Center, as well as at the hospital. Here are some other things that make me wonder if I am beginning to think like a doctor:

• I now have a pager, which the receptionists (who wear scrubs) in the psychiatric unit (the word "unit" isn't helping my identity crisis) page me on when I have a client.

• Occasionally, I am "on call" which means that if a client has an emergency, I have to deal with it.

• I have a parking sticker, which allows me to park in the same parking lot as Layne, an actual doctor. I kind of hope that bugs him.

• Today, I had an urge to wear a surgical mask and goggles to protect my mouth and nose from dust blowing past me at 40 miles an hour.

All of these, individually, do not mean much. Actually, they probably don't mean much together, either. However, it has made me think a lot about what I do, and why I do it. I became a therapist because I wanted to help people have better relationships. I did not become a doctor because I get queasy at the sight of blood. And needles. And tissues. And I'm pretty sure I would never want to see fat or bones, either. I love my job. I get to spend an hour a week with people who allow me into their lives. Doctors don't get that. But did I become a therapist because I couldn't be a doctor? I don't know. I'll be thinking about it while I am buying scrubs and a white lab coat, which, I have decided I need to start wearing.                

Blogging Blahs

I have no fewer than five unfinished blog posts in my drafts folder. There's one about a trip I took to D.C. in February, one about the murder mystery dinner my branch did in January, one about how much I love Seattle, one about cupcakes, and one about my trip to Georgia. I have very good reasons for not finishing these posts. They mostly center around boredom and a lack of pictures, or a sudden realization that there are some of my thoughts that really aren't that interesting to other people. And other things, like my dissertation proposal.

But, in a nutshell, here's an update from my life:

• I got a new job with the Texas Tech Employee Assistance Program, which means, for the first time in four years of doing therapy, I will actually be getting paid for it.
• I learned that, when I blog about someone in my branch, other people from my branch happen to read it. I won't do that anymore.
• I have a month left of school. Woo-hoo! 

That's about all I have to say right now. Hopefully, this weekend, in between writing the methods section for my dissertation and a couple of branch activities, I will have time to finish some of these posts.

Blogging about my love life

When I started this blog, I made a vow that I was not going to be one of those people who rants about her love life. And I still do not plan to be that person. However, something happened to me yesterday that was so funny I felt I had to share it.

So there's a guy in my branch who, on top of being tall, dark, and handsome, also has a pretty amazing Southern drawl (he's not from Texas. Not that I haven't met Texans with pronounced accents, but this guy's accent tops them all). He is beloved by both men and women alike. He lives with his brother, who is married and has a family. This becomes important later. He also happens to be on the older end of the branch spectrum (he's about to get booted out, in other words), and he's known to be something of a flirt. So, yesterday, after Sunday School, as I am sitting with Stephanie and Layne, he comes up to tell Layne about a woman he'd like to set Layne up with (a subject for another post). At some point during this conversation, the topic veers, and he and I have the following exchange:

Guy (for the sake of anonymity, this is what we'll call him. The name he goes by isn't much better): Speaking of that, when are we going out?

Me: Well...

Guy: Probably when I call you, huh?

Me: Yeah, that's sort of a rule of mine.

Layne: (aside, grateful to have the focus off him) You don't just go to places and wait for guys to show up?

Me: No.

Guy: 'Cause my brother and them like you.

Me: (confused) And how do your 'brother and them' know me?

Guy: They know the girls I talk about. You know, everybody thinks I'm this big flirt, but I've only got a few girls that I'm really interested in. I've always got to keep that fire stoking. If things don't pan out with the girl I'm talking to who lives in Dallas, I've always got to keep the fire stoking.

And with that, he walked away. So, let's review what we learned from this little exchange, which is as close to word-for-word as I could get it:

• The only men who ever hit on me are either drunk or so cocky that they find it perfectly acceptable to have an exchange like the one noted above in front of people who will inevitably mock and ridicule them, which was exactly what happened when he left.


• He finds me desireable on some level,

BUT

• I am not his first choice.

I don't really know what to do with this episode, except post it on my blog. Thank goodness for blogs. It's like having one conversation simultaneously with seven people in different locations across the country.

Ain't it funny how you always find just what you need?

I normally don't approve of the word "ain't" period, but it is a line from a favorite Tim McGraw song that often seems to fit in my life.

Do you ever have those moments when you are in desperate need of something, and someone you know fills that need without ever realizing they've done it? It's happened to me more times than I can count, and I bring it up here because it just happened again. So, here, on this blog, I wanted to take a second and thank all of the people in my life, both those who read this blog and those who don't, who have been answers to prayers they couldn't have known I was praying.

• Thanks for reminding me what's important. Sometimes I forget.
• Thanks for being silly with me when I needed to be silly.
• Thanks for joining with me in hating whatever guy I was currently hating, or getting excited with me over whatever guy I was currently excited over.
• Thanks for talking to me late into the night when I didn't want to be alone.
• Thanks for inviting me over for dinner and letting me play with your children
• Thanks for visiting me in Lubbock.
• Thanks for letting me come to visit you.
• Thanks for being my therapist, boundaries be danged.
• Thanks for being a part of making me feel like I belong in Texas.
• Thanks for the spontaneous phone calls, Dad.
• Thanks for priesthood blessings at inconvenient times.
• Thanks for well-timed phone calls, texts, e-mails, letters, and visits.
• Thanks for pushing me to do the things I know I should do.

In short, I feel pretty blessed to have the people in my life that I do. Thanks, guys. And I can't believe I have become this sappy in a blog post. Don't judge me.

Not another blog about cupcakes

Has anyone else been alarmed at the sudden trendiness of cupcakes? They are all over the place. Martha Stewart Living's February issue had a big section on cupcakes, from peanut butter cupcakes to banana cupcakes to coconut cream cupcakes, and all kinds of frosting and decorating ideas. Here alone are four sites that have had postings about cupcakes that have made me want to bake cupcakes:

Pioneer Woman-Now, to be fair, Pioneer Woman is about much, much more than cupcakes, but from the way she raves about cupcakes, it is pretty obvious she's on the cupcake bandwagon.

Bakerella-While it is a baking site, she seems to devote more time to cupcakes than just about anything. Also, she really likes making candy that looks like, but isn't, a cupcake.

Cake Wrecks-Yes, even Cake Wrecks keeps talking about cupcakes. Of course, it's in a very entertaining, mocking way.

All Things Cupcake-This one, like its name, is not just about cupcakes themselves, but also about cupcake stationery, cupcake tattoos, cupcake hair ornament, and cupcake learning toys. I have added a link, lest you think I am making these things up.

Cupcakes Take the Cake-Very similar to the above one. They post links to cupcake stores all across the world, along with pictures of the cupcakes they sell...

This brings me to the second point of this blog: cupcake stores--that is, bakeries that sell only cupcakes, have become quite popular recently. When I was in D.C., there were two or three on the street between our hotel and AAMFT headquarters. Vegas has several, and now, Lubbock has one. It is located in a strip mall, and it is called Peace O' Cake (yes, it really is). Like many Lubbock food establishments, it is only open from Tuesday to Saturday. Business starts at 10 a.m. and finishes when the last cupcake has sold. The inside of the shop is painted a very trendy green with white accents (always a recipe for success). They sell about five flavors a day, both as regular-sized cupcakes and as minis, and they often have names like "What's Up, Doc?" for carrot cake, and "Billy Idol White Wedding." After hearing people rave about these cupcakes, I have now paid two visits to the store to see what all the fuss was about.

I don't know about the rest of you, but, growing up, I couldn't think of a worse dessert on the planet than a store-bought cupcake. They were always covered with twice as much buttercream as was necessary for a good cake-to-icing ratio, and the buttercream was usually airbrushed, which, in the early 90's, was a cool look, but did not serve to give the dessert a "homemade" feel. Today, in a singles' branch that has contrived get-togethers called "Mix and Munch," a package of store-bought cupcakes showing up is a clear indication that some girl has just completely given up on trying to lure men in with her baking skills. So, while I like cupcakes as much as anyone, I am skeptical of cupcake stores.

Yesterday, I purchased three mini cupcakes and one regular cupcake from the aforementioned store. Although, to be perfectly frank, the regular cupcake was more like a blueberry muffin wearing purple buttercream. That said, it was pretty good. The buttercream was sweet, but not so sweet that it made my teeth hurt. The three minis were not as good-they seemed tough, like they had been mixed too thoroughly or cooked too long. Also, on the sign, they were advertising "Lemon Confetti" and "Billy Idol White Wedding." However, the lemon one had no confetti in it. There was a confetti one, however, that had a vanilla base, but didn't seem fitting to be called "White Wedding." I'm still a little confused by that one.

In short, I think the cupcakes are good. However, they are not worth the price, and they don't taste that different from the ones you make from a mix. 

I have spent some time over the last few weeks thinking about what it would be like to scrap my PhD and start my own cupcake business. At the very least, I have had an itch to make cupcakes.

I started with a recipe for strawberry cupcakes I found in Martha Stewart Living. I am a little ashamed to say I bought that magazine, but I did. This is a link to the recipe, in case you think you can do better. 

Here is a picture of my partially filled cupcake papers and the batter bowl on my kitchen counter. Bakerella I am not.

Here's a picture of my first attempt at frosting, using the recipe Martha suggested. Not only was the recipe terrible, but the picture I took of the frosting, to illustrate how terrible it was, came out bad. I'm not Pioneer Woman, either.

My second attempt consisted of adding strawberry puree to my favorite cream cheese recipe. As you can see from the picture, the results were smooth, if slightly runny (I hate that word). However, the butter or the powdered sugar must have been stale because it tasted funny. As did the cupcakes. All of this did not stop me from putting them in a cute box, which may or may not have been slightly used.

The discouragement from that first attempt has kept me from making any of the other Martha Stewart cupcakes, for now.

However, I have found another use for my cupcake pans that makes me happy. Cup pies. 

Have I mentioned that I loved the show Pushing Daisies? I did. I could do an entire post on shows I loved that got cancelled. Maybe, some day, I will. But it was from Pushing Daisies that I got the inspiration to make pies in cupcake tins. If I were Bakerella or Pioneer Woman, instead of the pathetic person that I am, I would post a recipe. Maybe I still will, but don't count on it.

Basically, what I do is buy Pillsbury pie crust dough. A box of two crusts makes about a dozen cup pies, if you are just using one crust. Fewer if you make a top crust. I cut the crust using a small bowl as my cutter (it's about 4 inches in diameter). Then I grease the cupcake pan. It takes a little bit of work to get the dough into the the cupcake pan, but I usually have enough to make a small edge around the crust. I only fill every other hole, so that the crusts don't run into one another. For strawberry, chocolate, or banana cream, I bake the shells first and fill them later. To keep them from shrinking, I put a foil ball (a small one, not like Pee Wee Herman's foil ball) inside, and a little ring of foil around the edge. I bake them for about 10 minutes at whatever heat the box says. As soon as they are cool enough to touch, I pull the shells out of the pan.

Here's a shot of some strawberry cup pies, and a chocolate cream (sans cream) cup pie. I used cook-and-serve chocolate pudding for the chocolate filling, and the Better Homes and Gardens strawberry glaze recipe over strawberry chunks for the strawberry pie.

I had to take pies to a Pi Day party (on March 14), so I got fancy and made these. I used the Better Homes and Gardens raspberry pie recipe, only I substituted blackberries, and I brushed the latticework with an egg rinse and sprinkled it with decorative sugar. I was too chicken to take the pies out of the pan, so I served them like this. They were a hit!

My mind is now reeling with ideas of other things I can make in cupcake pans. Any suggestions?