Tonight I will meditate on how to make my quilt top. I may mend it. I may mix it up. I might map a magical modification. I might feel moved to moderate my madness, though, and leave it the hell alone. 10 hours ago
So I finished the hexagon quilt top. I starched and ironed it, and hung it on the wall with pins, and now I’m taking a reeeeeeally good look at it.
I don’t like it.
It’s well-done, but I just don’t like the pattern how I’ve laid out the flowers. It annoys me.
Well, the next one I make will be better. I’ve learned some things. I’ve enjoyed the work, so it isn’t wasted time. But maybe it’s okay for me to think of this one as a scrapped project. Maybe that’ll even be fun. When I stop caring about ruining something I get the freedom to risk doing all kinds of horrible shit to it that I would never dare trying on something “good”. And quite often those risks pay off, and I learn wonderful new techniques.
Hmm… what are some things I’m scared to do to a good quilt? Maybe tea-dying the whole thing to give it an aged look. Or… doing weird embroidery all over it like a crazy quilt. Or painting on it. Or stamping it. Maybe doodle with fabric markers. Or cut the whole thing into pieces (not unpicking it, just cutting) and resew it another way.
I’ll let these
destructive creative ideas simmer and see what speaks to me tomorrow. 11 hours ago
...with a tasteful comment?
20 hours ago
First, date a woman.
Find a can of white paint… 22 hours ago
One thing I’ve noticed, and been constantly amazed by, is people’s ability to not notice their own smell. Whether it be body odor, farts, or heavy perfume, people seem to have no ability to sense when they are smelly. Even something like a fart that you’d think they’d HAVE to know is smelly is something I’ve heard people brag about, as in how nice it is that they can fart and know it doesn’t really smell bad! Meanwhile I was gagging and dying and literally had to leave the room.
I had a boss once who wore so much perfume I would never ever get trapped with anything naughty on my computer, because I could literally smell her coming. I think she got a boxed set of “Emeraude” soap, perfume, body spray, powder, and deodorant, and she wore them all at once, proudly, for a “layered” effect of lasting fragrance. (I saw that written on the box.) I liked her, but got headaches whenever she was near.
I agree that if anyone is going to bring up the subject of smell, it needs to be a superior. This is a painful subject that nobody is going to want to hear from an equal, much less anyone of lesser power. Coming from a boss, the information that one’s odor has become offensive to coworkers on a daily basis would be painful to hear, but something people could handle. It’s a boss’ JOB to say painful things nobody else wants to deal with. That’s why they get paid the big bucks dontchaknow! And it really is the boss’ responsibility to see to it that their work place is not a hostile environment, which dealing with horrific smells certainly would be. 22 hours ago
Well, I have done it! I have finished the hexagon top. At least, I’ve gotten the border on, and it’s at a stage now that makes a very good stopping point. Since I have several weeks left in the month I might decide to go ahead and add those corners like I thought before, to make this thing more of a regular rectangular shape suitable for hanging on a wall.
I’ve also decided I want to add some special hand stitches/embroidery to enhance the flowers. I’m not sure yet whether that can “count” as the quilting of the piece, or whether it needs to be done while it is still just a top. I probably won’t bother embroidering it if I have to mess with a hoop and all. I’m incredibly lazy that way. Even when doing the hand quilting I intend to do, I will not use a hoop or frame, but will use hand basting to hold the thing steady while I work on it.
See those red zigzag stitches? That’s the basting. It does a much better job than safety pins to hold your quilt layers firmly together, yet stays flexible so you can just hand-quilt however you want right there in your lap.
Last time I quilted a hexagon top I used simple straight lines like this:
Which is great, very firm and all, but doesn’t do a lot to enhance the flowery effect of the top I’m making now.
I don’t want something too complex. I don’t want to try to cover every inch with quilting, or make exotic patterns. I just want something kinda folksy and bright that enhances the flowers and leaves and is practical.
If this were a GFG quilt, this would be traditional:
But my quilt isn’t this, and I want to do something more original, maybe more organic. I want it to feel like a bouquet of flowers more than like just a “pattern”.
I dunno. Something will come to me, I’m sure. 23 hours ago
I thought sunchokes and jerusalem artichokes were both names for a type of tuber that is basically the root of a sunflower.
I’ve never tried them, and rarely have seen them in the store. How would you prepare them? 1 day ago
This is a word I’d never heard before. You would be eternally happy here, then! The longest I’ve ever known it not to rain was about four or five weeks one summer.
We do have a large population of Filipinos here. Even in my small town we have several little restaurants that serve lumpia and other specialties. It is sometimes said that one of the defining characteristics of a true northwesterner is we recognize the difference between Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, Thai, and Korean food, because each nationality is represented here and all have their distinctiveness.
(To be quite honest, I cannot claim to have that kind of knowledge myself, because I can hardly afford to eat at restaurants ever. But at least I know they are different cuisines.)
But yes, someday you must visit and enjoy our weather. Someday I’ll have a real home with a spare room to host all my 43T friends who want to wander through. For now, though, I’m still working on the goal of learning to keep my kitchen clean, much less have an entire house capable of making a guest feel comfortable! lol 1 day ago
Poor WQ! If you came to visit me we could walk for half an hour, and find ourselves lost in the middle of a forest that looks like no human has ever set foot there before.
September is my favorite month. It is usually still warm, but after the first rain of the month you can reliably find chanterelle mushrooms in certain places, wherever you find irish moss, evergreen huckleberries, and pine trees growing together.
They come in both orange and white colors, all sizes up to the size of your spread hand, and tend to be well-camouflaged to look like dead leaves so you can only see them if you’re looking in just the right place with your “mushroom hunting” eyes on. It’s a real treat to go collecting and come home with a grocery bag full of them. Then you have the joy (ha!) of cleaning them all. But then you get to cook and eat them, and they are buttery and nutty, and taste like the woodlands and the rain. 1 day ago
I have to agree, my home is especially beautiful. The land is still alive, not totally paved over. (Yet.) Better still, there’s practically nothing dangerous anywhere. No poisonous snakes, hardly any insects that would bother you worse than a mosquito. We do have black bears and cougars sometimes, but they are rare and hardly ever go anywhere near people.
Of course, Seattle is a major city, but it’s an hour away by ferry. The town I live in has about 25,000 people, and I actually live in an apartment complex (not a house) so my neighbors are a lot closer than 50 feet, but we do still happen to be surrounded by trees on all sides so we still have a sense of nature nearby.
Practically my favorite thing in the world is listening to the birds sing in the mornings. My favorite few minutes of the day are when I wake early enough to hear them. I just heard my first springtime bird song yesterday morning, and it was so sweet I had to stop and hold my hands over my heart, and the feeling was exactly like being in love.
I’ve never traveled to the Philippines, but I always hear of it being a paradise. Surely there are many beautiful things you get to enjoy there too! But for a change of pace, Washington State is not a bad choice. Just be sure to come in the summer months, when rain is much less likely. It literally does rain at least 25% of the time the rest of the year here. But for us natives though, even the rain is a gentle friend. Gray yes, making everything kinda perma-damp, yes. But it is what keeps everything so green and it hardly ever rains hard enough to get you really wet. It just sprinkles on your shoulders, and people rarely ever bother to even carry an umbrella. 1 day ago
I can see the similarity in the names jicama and singkamas. I also saw them listed as “Mexican Turnips” when I was looking for a photo of them. So though I’ve never heard of them being called that, obviously somebody does.
Where do you live, if you don’t mind me asking? I mean, in general. I’d like to get a vision of your environment. I live near Seattle. The weather here is often rainy or drizzly. We’re very close to the world’s only temperate rainforest (the Hoh Rainforest). This is what the woods all around my house look like:
I also have the Olympic Mountains nearby, and Puget Sound. When it’s not raining it’s very beautiful around here.
1 day ago
Hmm… looks like a potato, but is sweet and crispy and good eaten raw? Sounds more like what we could call a jicama than a turnip. Is this what you’re thinking of?
If so, then I would have to agree that I’ve never heard of one being cooked. Except maybe as part of a stir-fry. They’re also good in salads, or with dips.
And if so, then hey you’ve still got my type of turnips to discover! :D
Totally different plants. 1 day ago
...trying to complete a degree as a single mother nearing middle age. I have no idea how I found this site. The other site I spent most of my time on was ICanHasCheeseburger.com. Mostly I spent time online trying to rest up between classes, work, and going home to care for my kids.
I always wanted to be a goal-setting type of person, but never was. I liked the idea of having my goals written down somewhere that I could not misplace the list. I was shocked and amazed to find that people actually noticed me and started giving me cheers. I’d felt mostly invisible in life up until then.
Then someone here very special to me shared a very personal story. I remember feeling the tears welling up inside me as I wanted to just reach through the computer and wrap my arms around her and tell her how much I cared and understood and wished I could make it all better and stomp all the hell over the nasty people in her life who deserved stomping. And in my own timid but wordy way I said so to her. And as it turns out, my words mattered to her. And I knew that I had found a friend for life, because we both just understood.
Even though I’ve never met her in person, nor any other friend I’ve made on this site either, some of the most important relationships I’ve ever had have been with people I met here. Some of the best advice I’ve ever gotten has been from people who didn’t even know they were writing to ME at the time. But the things I’ve learned here have changed me dramatically. I’m a different person now than I was those seven years ago. I’m much stronger now, much more confident, and much more sure that my presence in the world not only matters, it makes a real positive difference for many people. And I didn’t ever have to stop being so damaged, imperfect, flawed, or even kinda crazy sometimes for that to be true. I’m a good person even without being perfect.
And I have fun here. I can be imaginative here in ways I can’t anywhere else. I can post pictures on my goals and entries, and they transform the way I feel about what I write. Over the years I’ve learned that plenty more than half the joy of a gift is in the thoughts and wishes behind it. When people share thoughts and wishes, pictures and poems, those things are real even if the physical “gifts” they pretend to be giving are not.
I don’t always have the strength to be so active. But I’m always grateful for what I have had. I still sometimes look back on special goals and responses (especially ones with lots of pictures because that’s what imprints strongly on me) and feel that same rush of connection all over again. And together, we all make an interesting dance.
1 day ago
I have never heard before of eating turnips raw. I can see how lemon would go well with it though. It would brighten up the somewhat bitter notes, and enhance the sweetness.
I’ve never seen turnips that weren’t purple, though. The closest thing I can think of is maybe rutabagas, which are a little stronger flavored than turnips and tend to have yellow flesh rather than white. But they don’t really look like potatoes either. I’m really rather stumped.
Turnip greens are good too. I like them sauteed until they’re tender, usually in a bit of bacon grease with chopped onion added. It is a very hearty green, and adds a lot to any meal. Very good with rice. But since you’re giving up rice maybe barley would be just as good.
Another great way to try turnips or rutabagas, or any other root vegetable is to roast them. That really brings out the best in them! It takes longer, of course, so normally I do it along side some other kind of roast. But if I were giving up meat I think I would go ahead and roast them to get the most out of them.
I really love eating old-fashioned staples like that. It makes me feel connected to my ancestors, even though it’s food my own parents never cooked. I know somebody in my family once used to. This is what everybody used to eat once upon a time. 1 day ago
I don’t know if you’ve ever tried turnips, but I want to recommend them. It’s weird, my whole life I never tasted turnips. My folks just never cooked them, so I never learned to cook them. But not long ago I just decided to give them a shot, and now they are one of my favorite foods!
Maybe I’m lucky to have gotten a crop in at my grocer’s that was extra tender and sweet. I’m sure once before I tried turnips and they seemed weirdly bitter and woody, even though I was careful to choose small ones. The ones I got this time were larger than my fist, but they were very good. I just peeled and roughly chopped them, boiled in broth till tender, then add butter and salt and eat either as chunks or mashed.
They’re very reminiscent in flavor and texture to potatoes, but have a vastly higher nutrition content. I think maybe that’s why I’m enjoying them so much. The taste is close, but different, but I like to believe my body can sense that there are vitamins and special good stuff in the turnips, so it makes me crave more.
If you’re on a vegetable kick, I just thought I’d mention them because who knows? Maybe they managed to be one of those overlooked vegetables in your diet like they were mine. Turnips are humble that way. Sitting patiently on the edges of our world, never making it to the menus of most restaurants, never getting songs sung about them or television commercials or anything. Just quietly waiting to be noticed, and hoping to do their part to help.
2 days ago
I’m not doing so badly today. I woke up from a bad dream with a headache, and it’s only 4:30am. So I took aspirin and caffeine, and that took away my headache and caffeine always makes me feel a bit chipper. Then I made a cup of hot broth to sip while browsing the internet. I don’t like coffee much, so this big mug of hot broth feels like a really good substitute – comforting to hold and sip while waiting for the rest of the house to wake up.
I’ve got breakfast sitting in the kitchen ready to cook as soon as my son wakes up. I’m looking forward to that. I guess I’m up extra-early because last night everyone just konked out extra-early. It happens sometimes. I guess that’s better than us all staying up way too late.
I don’t know what today will bring, but this feels like a pretty good start to the day. I wish for you that you may have something comforting, relaxing, supportive, and nourishing this morning to help you feel ready to face the day.
Sending spiritual hugs your way!
2 days ago
Yes, you do sound like you’re slogging right through it. It really isn’t fun, and I’m so sorry you have to suffer this! I wish I had any kind of real advice how to make depression go away, but obviously I don’t. I just have learned to deal with it, slog through it, and in my case it generally does cycle through eventually. Those moments of coming up for air are what I live for.
I hope the fog lifts for you soon.
2 days ago
I don’t want to be unsupportive, but I am confused. I thought the purpose was to learn to give up something you were used to, not to avoid any foods which might be enjoyable. What about apples next, or other fruit? Or juices? Or what if you start thinking kale is delicious and you want to eat that? If you only eat foods that are yucky, you won’t have much of a diet left, I think. 2 days ago
Today I made it to Pacific Fabrics, and showed off my quilt top. A girl who works there named Jan was all agog over it, and said she always wanted to learn English Paper Piecing. Another worker there whose name I think was Laura said she also enjoys doing EPP, but never before met anyone else who did it. So the three of us decided we will start our own group to get together and sew.
Jan is a knitter, not a sewer. So although she works at a fabric store she has no fabric stash of her own. So to help her get started I assured her I’d be more than happy to bring some of my own stash to share so she can give the method a try without investing too much money to start.
I left my name and number with them, and they said they’ll call me to arrange a meeting time as soon as we can.
Yay! I’m gonna have sewing buddies! :D
2 days ago
I know! I know! I feel bad that I haven’t gotten a picture of it yet. But I PROMISE I will. I really will. But at this point I may as well at least finish putting on the green border so I can show it off looking sort of “done-ish”.
I’ll also be sure to post a few close-ups of the back to show off my stitchery that I’m so proud of.
And thank you for divorce congratulations! It is all so ridiculously overdue. It feels wonderful to get it actually going now! 3 days ago
Today I went to the lawyer again, and finished up some paperwork. He will be served by Monday. My divorce is finally happening!
Because the trip to the lawyer’s office takes a lot of time on the bus, not to mention a lot of time waiting around for the bus, for the appointment, and then for the bus again, I decided to bring my hexagon quilt top with me to see how much I could get done in these strange circumstances.
I was surprised to be able to sew quite well, even on a moving bus. It didn’t seem to affect my stitch length at all. I guess my fingers are just really used to doing what they’re doing! It doesn’t sound like much, but I got about fourteen hexagons made and attached during these couple of bumpy, windy, awkward hours.
I also got the bonus of getting to show my work off to many strangers. Lots of people ooohed and aaahed over it. Everyone thought it looked cool. The ones who knew a tiny bit about sewing were actually blown away! It was cool. I felt like a rock star. :D 3 days ago
... that the flavor of a long-forgotten dessert could bring back memories like that! I’ve often noticed how certain smells instantly transport me back to places in my history when I smelled them before. It’s interesting to think that foods can do the same thing. 3 days ago
I don’t usually suffer from recurring dreams, because usually I’m able to change some aspect of them and find a different outcome.
What I’ve found helpful in battling angst and pain caused by childhood trauma is to imagine how differently I would handle it now, if I were in the same situation. Or I picture how even as a child I might have handled things differently, had I known then what I know now. Or I picture how the me of now could handle things differently if she went back in time and observed the things happening to the child-me of then. Mostly these all refer to me taking control of the situation by fighting back, running away, phoning the police, or even committing bloody suicide in a very public way, with a damning note explaining exactly what happened and why I thought this was my only way out.
My mother phoned a few days ago to ask whether I’d be allowing my son to visit this summer. I was happy to tell her he couldn’t, because we intend to get him into summer school to put him ahead for next year and allow him to take some advanced elective classes. My mother refuses to face the truth of what happened to me as a child, and continues to act as if it is all a dream that I concocted as an adult…for what purpose I have NO idea. Why would a healthy family produce a daughter so hell-bent on causing unwarranted pain for her parents by making up such horrible stories about her treatment as a child? But in my mom’s mind that is the only acceptable explanation. She and my father were perfect parents. I’m just strangely skewed in my perception of events. I was a happy child, but somehow have gone rather crazy now and believe things that simply did not happen.
The ironic thing is that this means my parents believe I am the one who is somewhat/somehow dangerous for my kids, while naturally I believe it is they who are not to be trusted. My parents believe my rejection of their religion is proof enough that I am heartless and callously willing to condemn my children to the fires of Hell by not teaching them the right way to think about salvation.
I suppose I should spend a bit more time meditating on various fantasies of vengeance and/or superhero protection, putting right the stories that once went wrong. At least I know my own kids are safe. I’ve always monitored them closely to be sure my parents (especially my dad) couldn’t/didn’t hurt them. At this time in our lives it may be that we are all able to more or less put my parents behind us, and no longer feel obligated to allow them even to have access for any reason. It isn’t much in the way of vengeance or justice for what happened to me, but it is a small correction. Being forced, in the past, to put up with the pretense that everything with my parents was fine was just torture. Now at least I can acknowledge that things aren’t fine. They may not be able to deal with that, but at least I can, and my children also are old enough to understand things from my perspective too. 3 days ago
There is something in what you say that seems to speak to me.
In the bathroom I saw mostly hands stacked up. In the packaging I saw a brain, a heart, and kidneys. It never occurred to me to think of the significance of these particular body parts and what they might signify. The brain was also ground up. That might signify my trouble with migraines.
The children in my dream seemed quite helpless and innocent. I remember feeling so angry at the adults who should have protected them instead either using them, or allowing them to be used. That might refer to my anger at mistreatment I suffered as a child, when I was helpless to defend myself. Sometimes adults would say they were concerned for me, but nobody ever did anything to protect me.
In real life I would not feel negatively towards anyone who claimed to be a witch. I understand Wicca well enough to know it isn’t a bad or violent religion in any way. My dream-witches, though, refer to the wickedest version of fairy tale villains. I don’t think it refers specifically to women, though it may refer to any evil power that is overwhelmingly stronger than me and utterly remorseless in its vile hunger.
It may be that my dream only refers to my anger at being mistreated as a child, and remembering my own helplessness, and outrage at the unfairness of those in power taking me to pieces and being utterly heartless, cold, and cruel about it. I suppose I did recently think about some hurtful childhood incidents, though that was days ago and I didn’t connect it to these nightmares.
The fact that as an adult in my dream I tried to prosecute, but was unable to successfully collect or turn in evidence may be referring to my frustration at knowing the suffering I went through as a child will never be really vindicated. My parents will never suffer for what they did. They will never be held accountable, nor will they even feel guilt. It is unfair and hurtful to think about, but it is the way it is.
Thank you for helping me interpret my dream. It makes more sense to me now. 3 days ago
For whatever it’s worth, I did look up the doll in the picture above. It turns out there’s a whole YouTube video about how to make that particular cake. And it IS a whole doll, jammed into a hole in a stacked and shaped cake! It’s actually very clever. She used drinking straws stuck through the layers of cake to keep them upright and not let them slide sideways with all the frosting in between. That might be a useful tip for me if I ever want to try making a very tall stacked layer cake.
About the store-window presents: just out of curiosity, who do you think the presents might have been for? If they sat in a store window, do you think they were presents for the store employees, or someone else in particular? 3 days ago
For the past few nights I’ve had bad dreams. Normally my dreams are weird, and that’s fine. Often I have lucid dreams, and if I know a dream is becoming a nightmare I can either change it or wake myself up. But lately my dreams have taken a new tack and I don’t know what to do about it.
I always think my dreams mean something. Generally they mean something really mundane, which boils down to “this is the way your life is right now, and this is what you’re afraid of”. But I don’t understand these two dreams. I’d like to share some parts of them, to get others’ reactions. But they are rather horrible. Please do not read further if it will disturb you. But if you do read, please give me your impression of what you think such images might be trying to communicate, if they were speaking to you.
First nightmare: I am in the house I grew up in. I am in the garage, where my father keeps all his tools for woodworking and cars and stuff. It smells like car grease and oil. A man rides up on a motorcycle that I’ve never seen before, but I somehow know immediately he has a gun and will likely kill us all. But he’s acting nice for now, and asks to see my father. I act nice and say I’ll go get him. I’m about 16. I go call my father and try to explain that a scary man just came up, but the dream ends before I can say anything. That is very weird because normally things get pretty gruesome before I start feeling scared, and in this dream I woke suddenly with that heart-clutching feeling even though nothing in particular happened.
Last night a much more revolting dream happened. I dreamed I was at a very large school with thousands of students. While using the bathroom I found a stall that had severed body parts stacked neatly in it, as though it were standard procedure for a certain number of kids to be dismembered and disposed of there. Yet at that point my dream did not “feel” like a nightmare yet, and I continued sleeping.
It gets worse. Later I dreamed that I was at a place I called home. There were neighbors living on both sides of me, like an apartment. I liked this home, it was beautiful and full of freedom and interesting things and I was happy. Somehow I stumbled into the house of a neighbor and to make a long story short I found that she was a witch who killed, dismembered, and ate children, and the two kids living with her now were about to be killed. I managed to take out a cell phone and take photos of some professionally wrapped meat parts labelled with the child’s name they’d been taken from, that were found in her refrigerator. As I was snapping the photos for evidence, thinking to prosecute her, a child ran by me and I heard a loud noise that told me the witch was coming, and I woke knowing she’d found me and probably killed me, and I would never be able to show that evidence, and I had saved nobody.
These dreams were very disturbing. I don’t normally have such graphically horrible dreams. I don’t watch horror movies. I don’t think nasty thoughts like this. I don’t know where this is coming from.
I got up, took some headache medicine, spent some time browsing the internet to distract myself, then went back to sleep and finished sleeping the rest of the night in relative peace. But I feel very upset that I had those dreams, and I want to know what message may have been intended by dreaming of people, especially kids, being cut up like that. It is too horrible to forget, while simultaneously being too horrible to contemplate. Especially the professional wrapping, like anything you might see in a grocer’s meat case.
I am not a vegetarian. My mother was a meat wrapper, so I’m very familiar with meat cases and I don’t think of them as horrible in any way. It was the violated humanity of those children which was the nightmare.
Please share any thoughts you might have, which might shed a bit of perspective on this terrible night’s sleep for me. What might my subconscious be trying to tell me? 3 days ago
What a rip-off! If I’d gotten such a cake and the doll didn’t have legs, I would feel so cheated! I’m glad I never knew that. But then, as I said before I was the type of kid who always saved plastic cake decorations expecting them to be good for something someday later.
I always thought the whole purpose of the cake was to give a gift of a new doll, with just amazingly snazzy one-day-only clothes on. 5 days ago
But in my mind I always thought they were called princess cakes. Only princesses wear hoop skirts, right? 5 days ago
Finally I am nearly done filling in the edges of this quilt. It now has a nice, regular hexagon shape to it instead of an irregular snowflake edge.
It is about a yard across at its widest point.
The only thing left now is to put a green border all around it, then consider whether to make the whole thing bigger by another round of “something” or whether to leave it and call it good. I suppose at this size it is an appropriate wall hanging, perhaps, or might make a table-topper (under glass).
I suppose I might decide to square it all up somewhat by adding four corners to it. I could figure that out somehow. It would make it easier to hang as a rectangular shape than if it were hexagonal. But the hexagon will make a better table topper. I keep thinking, though, that it might make a really nice medallion quilt, featuring this bit right on that part of the bed where it shows the most, then continuing to add borders and corners and stripes or flowers or whatever I want, until it is a good twin size. I’ve never made anything as big as a twin comforter before. It would be a real accomplishment if I could take it that far. Probably take me at least the rest of this year to complete, though, if I worked on it very steadily. Would it be worth it? Would I love it and use it? Or would it be “just another blanket”? Or worst yet, might I decide the colors are too darn green-and-pink that I can’t live with it? I don’t know. I’ll have to let the ideas simmer a while longer. 5 days ago
When you said “princess cake” I swear I thought you meant one of these, and I had no idea why you’d think that was all so special. Thanks for setting me straight!
I don’t know quite how you make this kind, unless it’s literally jamming a barbie doll down into a bowl-shaped cake. I first heard about them when I was a child, but have actually never seen one in real life. 5 days ago