179/365 - Beauty is not just skin, er...frosting deep.

It seems the going rage for cakes these days is fondant....extravagant, brightly colored creations that far elude my skill level.  I did give some thought to trying it out this past weekend, but I figured I wouldn't want to run the risk of reneging on my promise to bring a cake to the baby shower for my friend Jessi.  Besides, I'm not all that fond of how fondant tastes.  {hee hee}

Choosing what I was going to do turned out to be an elaborate process in and of itself.  I spent far too many hours looking at YouTube videos on cake decorating techniques online these past few days.  There are entire blogs devoted to cake decorating.  I had no idea.

I ultimately decided to focus on the cake itself, because inner decadent goodness will forgive any outside flaws as far as I'm concerned.  I chose homemade dark chocolate cake...four layers separated by chocolate raspberry ganache.  True confession: the raspberries were thrown in after failed attempts to smooth out my lumpy ganache.  At least now the lumps have some purpose, and besides, how can you go wrong with Ghiradelli chocolate, raspberries and heavy whipping cream?

The cake baking/layering process took up a good portion of my day yesterday.  I thought I would be frosting this cake late into the night, but thanks to some expert videos I found and a facebook poll determining the merits of ruffles vs. roses, the outside turned out to be a piece of cake.  (Ba dum, chhhhhh!)

Seriously, folks, I know I impressed a lot of people, but the frosting was the easy part:

I, for one, can't wait to see how it tastes...

178/365 - Navel gazer no longer

A birthday present to my newly single and somewhat thinner self several years ago, my belly button piercing was a whimsical symbol of my newfound personal freedom.  It also became a touchstone for my personal fitness, though even with a regular ab workout and low-carb diet, I've always been self-conscious about displaying it in public.  Still, I liked having it as a reminder of my youthful, some might say "willful" spirit.

This past weekend, I was asked to remove all of my jewelry, belly button ring included, for a fairly routine medical procedure.  Standing in the changing room after the exam, I had the opportunity to take a good long look at myself in the mirror without any adornments.  No belly button ring.  No Victoria's Secret push-up bra.  No flattering black pants.  Not even a flattering hospital gown.  Normally I would have preferred to get blood drawn over seeing myself naked in a full-length mirror under fluorescent lights, but this time, for whatever reason, I gave myself permission to take a fair and honest look.  And, strangely, I wasn't inclined to criticize.

I saw, in that reflection, a strong body that has borne and nursed my three beautiful children...a body that comes alive dancing and practicing yoga and that communicates love with passion and great expression...a body that has quite elegantly weathered, I humbly say, all that life has thrown my way.  I even looked forgivingly, maybe for the first time, at the soft belly that was no longer trying to belong to a younger, more carefree version of myself.  I liked what I saw, even as I admitted it was far from society's ideal physical form.  I wondered for a moment if it was just a skinny mirror, and then my next thought was, "I am now closer to forty than I am to thirty-nine." 

Rumor has it that everything goes to pot after forty.  I've decided I'm not going to buy into that.  I think most people just freak out about getting older and dying, and they either give up and quicken that process or they fight like the devil trying to defy the inevitable.  Personally, I'd rather glide through my life and however much may be left of it, accepting each stage as gracefully as I possibly can.  I would imagine that forgiveness contributes greatly to graceful ways, no matter what stage of life you're in.  That and an abundance of skinny mirrors.  And less time gazing at one's own navel, adorned or not.

177/365 - Love is....

....listening.

....hearing.

....holding on after the hug is held.

....staying.

....out of your comfort zone.

....better than playing it safe.

....safer when you're willing to grow.

...it just is.

176/365 - Meds required

I said, "Pfffft" three times to three separate people yesterday - in writing at least twice.  Perhaps my brain really is addled, or maybe it's just been clogged with entirely too much from the Data Warehouse.  I'm not sure I trust my P's and Q's, or my PS Query for that matter.  At this point, I'm guessing pretty much Anything Goes....and goes rather, well, through hell and high water.  I'm wondering, Is there a prescription for that?

175/365 - Career Musician

Some people are naturally gifted musicians.  I'm not one of them.  I do consider myself a professional, but I'm far from one of the best players getting work out there.  I established my fairly successful, albeit modest career as a classical musician with a great amount of passion and good old fashioned hard work.

It took a lot of years of frustration and self-criticism to sort out that performing just isn't my forte, but in the process, I've come to acknowledge the countless opportunities I had to develop other skills and natural-born talents that I do possess as an arts administrator and teacher.  As I've said before, taking even a small part in enabling a young person to follow her dreams is so much more fulfilling than it ever was pursuing my own - which bears the question of whether being a professional flutist was ever a dream of mine in the first place...

When I was recently invited to audition for a permanent position in one of the area's regional orchestras, I found myself asking myself that question yet again.  As a primarily free-lance musician, the idea of a regular gig playing with many of my colleagues was really appealing.  But I confess I also had the same thought I always have when I've auditioned for every other orchestra job since college: "Maybe I'll finally prove that I can do this."  Not exactly "dream" language, now is it?  But I pulled out the audition excerpts and spent several days whittling away at the notes anyway, and the age-old joy-sucking anxiety and self-doubt came right out with them.  I said to my beau, "I hate playing these excerpts...I hated playing them 20 years ago, and I hate playing them now."

In my job as an admissions counselor for some of the next generation of professional musicians, I frequently tell prospective students who are uncertain about pursuing a career in music, "If you can follow what you're passionate about and figure out what you're good at in the process, you'll find your way to a successful career."  If I take an honest look at that journey, I seem to have done just that.  I really don't need that regular gig to call myself a professional musician.  I already am, and I go to work nearly every day loving every aspect of what I do.  I'd call that success.  You might even say I'm already living my dream, and I'd be inclined to agree.

174/365 - Renewed commitment

My head and heart have been very full lately, which is not too surprising given my lack of writing over the last two-plus weeks.  A couple people asked me recently, "Why do you write?"  My usual response has been something along the lines of, "It really helps me process things."  That's definitely true, but I suppose, in some cases, I also think I have something to say that's worth reading.  Whether it's sorting out a personal conundrum or responding to an issue of greater importance to the world, I seem to be better able to sort out my thoughts and feelings when I put them into written form.  It's high time I get back at it, too, if not for my year-long resolution than for my own good.

Even though I haven't been writing, I have been contemplating a great many topics I might like to write about.  There is, of course, the ongoing political discourse that has infiltrated my daily Facebook and news feeds, fodder I can't ignore much longer.  I've also been revisiting some writing I once did about religion as I have been digging into some great spiritual discussions with my beau and some other friends.  And then there's the recent phenomenon surrounding Fifty Shades of Grey, but I suppose if I want to write about it, I'll have to break down and read it.  That I haven't yet is less of a comment on my sex life than an indication of my taste in literature, but to each his or her own - in the bedroom or the bookstore.

Some juicy topics to explore, that's for sure!  As of today, I'm renewing my daily commitment to write, and I simply ask you - followers, friends, family, the unknown expanse of the Internet - to serve as my witness.  If I'm really ambitious, I may still make it to 365 by the end of the year.