Hello friends and lovers,
I actually have a legitimate excuse for not writing in a while! Well, kinda. Just go with it. I've become a small business owner. Yes, that is correct! I am in the process of setting up shop - a cupcake shop that is! Called Bonnie Cakes. And it's in New Zealand. So if you don't live here you probably won't be able to see it for yourselves. So technically this could be a complete fabrication because, let's get serious, how would you ever find out otherwise? I mean, half the world still thinks Americans walked on the MOON (pause for the uproar....)
So I've been knee deep in all that comes with starting a small business and having no idea what I'm really doing. Good thing I know how to make a decent cupcake!
How did I come up with the idea to open up a cupcake shop in New Zealand, you ask? Well, thinking of this answer got me to realise that the very answer to this question can be the answer for many questions regarding choices I've made in my adult life. The answer being: I was DRUNK. Just so you know, my mom would be MOR-TI-FIEEEEED if she heard this. So please don't tell her I said that.
But it is true.
Alas, one night after a few...er...bottles...of wine (you thought I was going to say glasses weren't you - don't insult me - I am a professional!), the talk turned to cupcakes. And then red velvet - something I consider myself to be well-versed in. And a friend of mine said her brother was getting married and they couldn't find anyone who knew how to make red velvet cupcakes! In my drunkeness I was absolutely (and probably over-dramatically) outraged! Whatever do you MEAN no one makes red velvet cupcakes here? And then somehow I found myself offering to do their wedding cupcakes. Like you do when you're drunk. I had pretty much forgotten about that entire conversation (and of most of the events of the evening, apart from when I yelled at a bouncer at a bar because he wouldn't let our man friends in because they weren't wearing collared shirts...I believe I told him he was provincial...fun angry drunk Bonnie at her best...) - anyway, I forgot all about the red velvet wedding until I get a call from said friend's brother's fiance asking me if I was available on the date of their wedding. Let's get one thing straight: drunk or sober, I am no quitter. Besides, I've catered food before, how much different is it to do cupcakes for a wedding?
You're probably going to think I screwed something up and made a huge mess of their special day. I know, I would probably think that of me too. But I haven't because the wedding isn't for a few months from now. So ha!
But what did seem to happen was a snowballing effect of people finding out about the elusive red velvet cupcake and wanting to try it. So orders started coming in. And people were loving them! So I figured, why not give New Zealand a taste of America in the good ol' Sprinkles fashion and start a cupcake shop??? So that's just what I plan to do.
I guess by being intoxicated I acutally made quite a healthy life decision, whether I knew it at the time or not!
Drunken decisions haven't helped me this much in the past.
I thought I'd illustrate this with a few examples.
* Christmas. I'm 31. Some friends and I go to a winery for dinner and the booze is a -flowin. I spot the most amazing garden on their property with the biggest fricken artichoke plants I have ever seen with the most beautifully ripe artichokes I have ever seen. I need to have an artichoke. I take my butter knife with me and sneak over to the garden (in the dark), hop over the hedge and proceed to saw off an artichoke. I run back and sneak it into my purse. Without getting caught.
* Same night as above, giddy from my ingenious theivery, I decide to jump into the fountain out front. My shoes were surprisingly not ruined. I was also thrown into the trunk of a car, but this was not my choice so I don't count it in this list.
* The Cook Islands. I'm 30. My brother and sister-in-law's wedding. I was surprisingly well behaved until I was notified that we had a huge bar tab that needed to be spent. And I was OFF! A bus came to pick us all up and take us back to our hotels around the island. I spot the most amazing captain's hat under the seat. It has no owner, so I put it on. I let everyone else try it on too. I may (allegedly) have told a boy to "keep it". So apparently he did. Unbeknownst to me, this captain's hat actually belonged to an Air New Zealand pilot who was due to fly out that morning. Apparently he went around each stop the bus driver had made and knocked on doors at 5 am until he found his hat. I got the blame.
* New Zealand, I'm 29. I'm out at a bar with Shane and some of his friends. We have just come from dinner at another winery (I'm seeing a trend here, are you?) - Shane's friend challenges me to a kart wheel competition. Again, I am no quitter. He goes (yes it was a HE who challenged me) and I think I've got this in the bag! I give a little run and begin to proceed with my kart wheel when the heel of my boot makes unusual contact with the slick wooden floor and I completely eat it. I had nerve damage in my hand and it tingled for over a month.
Ok this is getting embarrasing. I'm sure those of you who know me can add some stories. And don't act like you've never done stupid shit like this before. I know the truth!