Thursday, April 14, 2011


Over my thirty one years, I have been known to many as many different things.

No, I am not talking about hats, i.e. being a wife or mother or hairstylist.

I am talking about reputation.

Now, being the daughter of a children's pastor at a church with relatively strict guidelines in regard to behavior, dress, and relationships; there was an automatic reputation my position bestowed on me.  I lived up to it, I think, pretty well for many years.  While the other p.k.'s were off (I'll let someone else fill in the blank here), I followed the narrow line set before me with very little question.  But perhaps I am not talking about moral reputation here (although I should clarify my true morality during these years at some point, as I am not without fault).

What I mean to say is that I am an envelope-pusher; I have an unhealthy obsession with a raised eyebrow.  I push and press on boundaries, shoving whatever appendage I can through fences.  Now, know that this take on life has some consequences, such as being labelled "weird" or "not normal."  These tags can take years for some to get over (Jr. High is a butt), but once you do, the terms almost become endearing.  I choose to replace the words with "colorful" and "refreshing."

The other issue with pressing parameters is that sometimes you go too far, and break them.

Which I hate.  Then "colorful" and "refreshing" become "rebellious" or even "apathetic."  A few months ago, I walked into a group of women, of which 5 were wearing knee-high brown boots.  Jokingly I said, "Ugh!  Why didn't you all call me!  I would have worn mine!"  A few people giggled, but one said something like, "Yeah, but if we told everyone that she had to wear her boots, you wouldn't want to do it." The thing is, this person didn't know me very well, and I was kind of irritated that she would assume I wouldn't want to play along.  What in me does she see that makes her think that way?  I don't like it.  I am working on it.

Generally (as I said), my reputation is color.  I want to believe that I challenge people, even in something as silly as what to wear or how to do their hair.  Or even in macaronage.  

Yes, that is a hoity toity macaron chilling with a working man's Oreo.  How could I do this?  I had leftover Oreo Cream Cheese Frosting from a cake I made over the weekend, and I shoved it in a macaron.  That's how.

As you can see, I have become better at making those tricky little cookies.  I "aged" these egg whites for about 4 days on the countertop.  My first batch was a little sticky on the bottom, but my second was absolutely perfect!  Thank you, Bravetart!

And yes, that is a Chantico mug.  Anyone remember the decadence that was Chantico?  We should make a knock-off recipe for it when it gets cool again, but as you Augustans know, that won't be for a long, long, long time.

Now for a full day of hair, and a cake or two to make.

Weird=Color.  Have a great Thursday, everyone!

Rachel Bee


  1. Oh, I remember Chantico! I also remember Tom saying, "Chantico and a cigarette. What a great way to start the day," as we opened the Calhoun St. store on chilly mornings. I do miss Chantico.

  2. Yum! Don't know about starting my day with it, though!

  3. I agree. Your macarons are looking wonderful! The tops are so smooth and flawless. Yes, I think I can eat a macaron and oreo in the same sitting

  4. hmm... maybe an oreo in a macaron. you'd have to eat it fast, as the oreo would get mushy in the frosting, or is that what you want? yum!