04/11/06
Wry buns -
Categories: I have been baking lately.
In a fit of madness I bought myself a diet book - this is something I have never done before as 1) I don't really believe in strictly following diets, I'm more of the 'stop putting cake in your mouth and go for a run, you fat twat' school of thought and 2) I never stick to them anyway - I tend to get enraged when they tell me I can't eat things I like. This one was a GI diet book, and when they said I wasn't allowed things like fruit juice or sweetcorn I got in a strop - what kind of diet doesn't let you eat sweetcorn? A crap one, that's what.
Anyway, the upside of this purchasing error was that there are some rather good recipes for sugar-free cakes in the back. Now I realise that 'sugar-free cake' sounds like both an oxymoron an a really bad idea - but they're actually pretty good. Despite having no homemaking skills whatsoever, I managed to make a batch of fruit buns that were actually quite tasty. I then got a bit ambitious and decided to have a go at scones (by 'have a go at' I mean 'try to make' not 'criticise' - that would just be silly) - which, contrary to my expectations, worked rather well.
Well, after this I got a bit cocky and decided that as well as using sweetener instead of sugar, I would try replacing the normal wheat flour with rye flour, for an all-out healthy scone extravaganza. Again, I was kind of expecting it to be a massive failure, but they were pretty damn good. Although they were more like rock buns than scones.
The success of the rye flour buns then led to one of those 'this is the funniest thing ever' moments that you only have when you're just about to fall asleep or are just waking up, where you usually don't bother to write the idea down and just forget about it, but when you do write it down, it turns out it definitely wasn't the funniest joke ever, you'd just temporarily lost your sanity in a moment of sleep deprivation.
Hence the title 'wry buns'.
Yes, it seemed like a good pun at the time. Then I remembered 'good pun' is also an oxymoron.
I like oxymorons.
I don't like morons though. They are a different thing and a lot more prevalent in general life.
I was temping earlier this week. It was possibly the worst job I have ever had to do (and I've cleaned up quite a lot of sick and been paid £2.45 an hour in my time) and involved the hideousness that is DATA ENTRY. Turns out many media types can't be arsed to put their business card details onto their computer, so they save them all up for A THOUSAND YEARS and then get an unsuspecting temping-monkey to break their hands doing it for them.
There were literally thousands of these things - I got repetitive strain injury after just one day, and THEN it turned out they complained to my agency that I was late back from lunch when I wasn't even late! Fortunately I got ill after 2 days and had to take the rest of the week off.
I know that when you're starting out in this industry temping is just something you have to do, and for the most part I don't mind it - reception work is usually quite nice, and I don't mind just typing a few letters and that sort of thing - but data entry is just the worst. And so utterly humiliating. I'm almost 24, I have a degree from Cambridge and I'm spending my days typing names and addresses for £8 an hour. In the meantime my housemate gets paid £25 an hour to do some nondescript job which, from what I can gather, involves showing people how to turn on a computer. It makes me despair. A lot of the time I feel like I have no real qualifications - I'm just getting by day-to-day in the hope that something better will come along.
"I hope that something better, I hope that something better, I hope that something better comes along" - Ralph the dog, the Muppet Movie
On the plus side, I'm doing the 4 Weekly show tomorrow at the Soho Theatre. Exciting!
Notice how I spent 3 paragraphs on the bad part of my week and just a line and a half on the good part. I do try not to focus on negative things, but I find they're funnier to talk about. Especially if you're English; no one wants to hear someone banging on about how great their life is.
Right, have to go. Time for tea.
Ruthie P and her band of merry men x
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