Oh, how I keep failing at this.

Things are going well in Newbury land. I've been sort of lost and confused with my work life and friend unit, but for the first time in my life, I can say that I'm happy. Completley happy. I really credit my amazing husband for that. I also have the best neighbors/best friends on the planet and I'm loving it.

I've been an unhappy person for so long and I didn't even realize it. I think a lot of that had to do with leaving my family and moving to Fayetteville. I did a hell of a lot of growing up there and I wouldn't trade any of it for anything. I did a lot of damage to myself and to others by staying there for so long, but in the end I count myself lucky for being able to pick up and leave in the end. I miss fayetteville often, I miss good coffee from Arsegas,my favorite restaurants (Taste of Thai and Hugos), and my old job at the bakery. There is also really never a day that i don't pine a little bit for Ian Argo and Daniel Field, my two camp brothers. They were such a huge part of my life for so many years and it feels like a big piece of me is missing. I guess I miss a lot about Fayetteville. But I can't go back. My best friend Casey is in the process of moving back from Louisiana and now that she and her husband are going to be so much closer it is so delicious to entertain the idea of Steve and I moving to Fayetteville and being with Casey and Eric all the time. Steve and I both know I would never ask him to do that. I don't belong there and I am such a better wife to him, not having the distractions of being unhappy to contend with everyday.

It has taken me some time to understand where I do actually belong and I know it is here. I know that Fayetteville is not my home and the Cousins Crew is not my home. My husband and the life I have with him, for better or for scatterbrained is the perfect life for me.

I love my vintage g.p.s. knowing, snap brimmed hat wearing better half. I love to smell his scalp when he's sleeping, I love how excited he gets over a fresh pot of hazelnut coffee, I love the smell of gasoline in our garage, the look on his face when I put a new plate of dinner experiments in front of him. I love how kind he is to everyone he loves and how snarky he is under his breath to people he doesn't know.

I am Jessica Claire Newbury and I am blessed. I have amazing friends, a beautiful home, dreams of travel to sweet smelling place, friends that are worth more than their weight In gold and a husband that makes me smile and I approve this message.

Not dead yet..

Still alive. Sorta. More to follow.

Julia Child

I have the house to myself this evening and I am choosing to tell you guys about my slice of pie heaven. My husband LOVES pie. I love sugar and the idea of pie but have never made one before. Today that changed. I made pie for my beloved and it went over amazingly. I was really pleased.

My life is usually a bunch of anxiety and self deprication that is mangled even more by meltdowns and sneeky hate spirals. I have great ambitions and huge plans to make beautiful culinary/crafty experiments. And usually those ambitions are only half realized because the entire time I'm endevoring to get these things done, I hear the whispers of doubt in my ear saying "rush, rush, hurry, hury." And it's not just with food. It's with crafts and skills and reading books and gardeing. Actually it's not really so much with gardening. That is something that I just seem to have engrained in my dna to be good at. But as for food, yikes. MOST of the time it turns out decent. The food is usually tasty and at the very least presentable but when I put the fork to my mouth and masticate my creation, I always wonder, "What else could I have done to make this better?"

Today was not like that. (Now this may seem like a bunch of rambling leading to maybe nothing, but bear with me. I have a conclusion, somewhere.) Last night we watched "Julie and Julia." OH MY GOODNESS!! Julia Child. Sweet french cooking, tall, pearl wearing muse to many. Add another follower to your list. Honestly. I've watched Julia Child cook all of maybe two times while I've been sitting in my underware eating cereal because It was something on television. I didn't know Julia. I had no idea that this person, with a boisterous soul and infectious laughter was such a complete master at food. And not just at food, but at the human condition. Julia was a chef, an authour, a tv personality and my favorite thing of all. Julia was a wife. My favorite side of Julia was her relationship with her husband. She met Paul Child at the age of 34 and was married to him within a year. The two were the absolute perfect picture of an amazing marrige. Paul drove Julia and supported her enough to find the person she wanted to be. He fufilled her life by allowing her to be EXACTLY who she was. Loving, loud, clad in pearls and charming the pants off of everyone in her path. And then there was the FOOD.

My husband is much the same way. On some days he wakes up to a wife that is sweet and lovey dovey. But on other days, my husband wakes up to this monster who can't be loved enough or tamed in anyway. Stephen has the most amazing amounts of tolerance and patience of any person that I have ever met. When he comes to the kitchen and finds me caked in failed Swedish cinnamon rolls, crying on the floor in my underwear again, does he freak out? Does he yell at me for making a mess? Does he chide me for taking this situation far to serious? NO?! Stephen takes my tear streaked face in his hands, kisses my forehead and proceeds to eat my sad, sad cinnamon cookie screw up. Stephen gladly eats every experiment that I place in front of him and he tells me how delicious it is and smiles. Every time. Every time.

When I told Stephen that I wanted to go to culinary school, he encouraged me. And then he took me to Barns and Noble so I could get my own copy of Mastering The Art of French Cooking. I KNOW RIGHT!! Who has a bad ASS husband? ME!!

So with this vote of confidence from my husband, today I baked. And I baked. And I baked. I made my first pie, A Rum, Chocolate and Pecan pie of absolute lovely proportions and I also made a batch of vegan blueberry muffins. Both of which turned out picture perfect. The experience was calm and calming, and I was actually relaxed. I enjoyed baking again and I thank you, Julia Child. The Pie recipe was borrowed from Mrs. Paula Deen and honestly, y'all. You can't go wrong with Paula Deen. I'm just saying, butter makes it better. The muffin recipe, however was MINE!! It was a basic recipe that was altered to what I had in the pantry. And "Why Vegan?" you ask? Yea, I'm not a vegan, nor do I care to be vegan, but I've done a few vegan recipes now and honestly, I find it exciting. How is it possible to make something yummy without using any animal products? That is the whole draw to the recipe! NO butter, NO EGG, NO MILK!! She's gone MAD!!

1 1/2 Cups All Purpose Flour

1/2 Cup Wheat Germ (which kicks sooo much ruuuumppp!!)

1/2 Cup Sugar

4 tsp of baking powder (cause I likes um fluffy!!)

A couple of dashes of cinnamon

1 Cup frozen/thawed blueberries

3/4 cup rice milk

1/2 cup of apple sauce

2 Tablespoons of your choice of jam (I used sand plum)

1 tsp of vanilla

1 Mushed ripe nanna

1/3 cup peanut oil

Combine all dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl. In a second bowl combine all wet ingredients (not the berry's) and whisk till everything is Incorporated. The banana will still be sort of solid. Add the Berry's to the dry ingredients. They will mush up a little and cause the batter to turn a fun purple color. Gingerly add the wet ingredients to the dry and stir till well Incorporated. Spoon the batter into a greased (and I added cupcake liners as well) muffin tin and fill about 3/4 of the way full. Bake for 20-30 minutes in a 400 degree oven or until the muffins are firm to touch.

Julia, I salute you. I can't wait to get elbow deep in your cookbook. Thanks for the food. Thanks for the guidance and thanks for the laughter. Much love to you Julia.

I Feel Like A Tragic, FAILED bar mat. But I did make cupcakes.

FIRST WEEKEND OFF SINCE OCTOBER MO-FOS!!

Last night, the husband unit and I went to a local watering hole and spent some time with old friends. It was much needed and soooo well enjoyed. The husband unit has had the same core group of friends since he was a little dude. Those guys are this insane little unit and will probably continue to be friends until they kick the bucket. We had a great time. It's a lot of fun going out with them and honestly getting to see the other wives and lady friends. We were super silly last night, lots of dancing and lots of *cough* drinking alcoholic beverages.We got married last December and it was such a small deal that most of the guys weren't there, which we are STILL GETTING SHIT FOR!!! I get it though. But really dudes, shut up. We haven't really seen them since BEFORE the wedding, so yea. LAST NIGHT WAS GREAT.

I'm going to be honest, I'm not good at drinking. I can't handle my booze and I allllllwayyyys get some sort of death feeling hangover. I know I'm not a skilled drinker and yet, I think I got drunk last night. I'm blaming you, strongbow. This is your fault. You are a delicious bastard and I shake my hateful and recovering fist at you. But here's the thing, I'M NOT EVEN A LITTLE HUNGOVER!! WIN!! There was a triumphant scream of jubilation this morning when I woke up and was able to function without sunglasses and a bucket strapped to my chin. She grows up and she grows up. Three TALL 6 point beers and a well shot and I WALKED out of that bar on my own. EAT IT!! I'm A BIG GIRL and me and my rainbow chucks will fight you. Well, maybe not. I'm sorry. Wanna hug?

Anyways. This is nothing but rambling that is going to bore you away from giving a crap about cupcakes, so back to business.

Today's recipe...... Dude, it's just vanilla cuppies with chocolate buttercream frosting. I had a simple craving and so I made a staple. Simple and delish. The twist. I had green food coloring, so they are lime green cuppies with avocado looking tasty buttercream. I'm going to shave them up a little and turn them into peas. Gangsta. Peas.

White Cuppie

3 Cups all purpose flour

2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoons salt

2/3 cups unsalted butter, softened

1 3/4 cup sugar

2 Eggs

1 1/4 cup whole milk

Prep

1. Preheat the oven to 350. Prepare cake tins.

2. Sift flour, salt, baking powder in a medium bowl.

3. In a separate bowl cream the butter, and gradually add the sugar. Beat (with hand mixer) till FLUFFY!

4. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing after each egg.

5. Measure out milk and vanilla to milk.

6. Add 1/4 of flour to butter mix, add about a quarter of the milk to the mixture and mix. Alternate dry and wet while mixing until the mixture is smooth.

7. Add batter into tins and bake 15-20 minutes or until the little dudes spring back when you touch um.

8. Let them guys cool and frost.

Don't they make you want to scream? They are SO GREEN!! AGGH!! I love it!!

And because I think this is turning into a foodie blog until The garden happens when the warm times come back, we went to Flat Tire Burgers last night and they have the SICKEST burgers. Husband had "The Butchers Wife," and saved the rest of it (CAUSE ITS FRIGGIN HUGE) for his fully sauced wife when she stumbled into the house. This burger is amazing. Rye bread (win), Swiss cheese, mustard, pastrami and salami and TWO DAMN PATTIES!! TWO! TWO PATTIES. That burger is a bitch slap to the tum tum. I had a ja-lapeno burger and it was good. Nice sauce and good spicy lovely, gooey, yum. TRUE story. Burgers. I love burgers.

OH FRICK! I forgot to mention the most glorious part of this whole experience from last night. I GOT PUCKED ON! Some drunk floozy (NOT ME!) totally puke sprayed the planet last night. I'm up in the cluuub trying to get my dance on to a 90's tribute (?) band that's covering some crazy NWA stuff (which was awesome.) and this broadzilla comes barreling through the crowd hitting chicks with projectile vomit. It was super bad. So ya. I'm kinda out there today. This probably is a terrible post.

No followers, what's up glorified journal diary thing?

Stephen (mi esposa) is snoozing. As I mentioned yesterday in my pathetic attempt of snark-tastic witticism is that he and I work nights. We work in a factory here where we live in OKC and its, a job. We make great money, have wonderful benefits and even get to work with people that stimulate our brains on multiple levels. He is a supervisor and a big wig in one building and I am a pee on/nobody in a building down the street. I really have zero complaints about being a nobody at my job though. Well. I have one complaint...ok TWO. 1.) WE WORK SIX DAYS A WEEK! And if you've ever worked six days a week at a job for more than a few months, you know that shit gets wicked old. 2.) I AM ALLERGIC TO MY MACHINE!!! Don't believe me? Take a look at this. Are you amazed? Something in the chemical solvent they use in a parts washer at work makes my face a balloon. Es muy TRISTE. I don't know why I'm typing in sporadic bouts of Spanish. But yea, work. It happens.

This nastiness is mostly cleared up, which I am greatfull for. There are still small amounts of hives on random places, but alas I think I will live to see another day. And now things that are randomly interesting to me. We went to cuppies and joe with a really nice couple that Stephen and I know from work, and when I say that they are a nice couple, I mean it. They are so fantastic. The "Bang-a-rang" cuppie and the "Razzmataz" are my favorite, but I think I may have the "Mary Poppins" on my next trip to cuppies and joe.

Before our date today, I dove head first into the new cook book that came to my home via the interwebs. "Eat Me" by Kenny Shopsin, a foul mouthed and terribly cranky cook in Manhatten. I started off with an adaptation of his "Cheesy Stake." Which turned out amazing, but in the process of cooking the damn meal, I sorta set the kitchen on fire. My first kitchen fire was SWEEET! We don't have a great house, it's small and falling apart in places, but it's our and I love it. I am really happy that somehow through the shock of billowing five foot flames that streamed upward from my range that I somehow snapped out of it and turned the burner that was seconds away from scorching our entire house into oblivion into the "off" position.

Stephen and I are planning a trip to Manhattan very soon with the hopes of going into the cranky cooks restaurant to eat or hopefully be thrown out. I'm really ok with either option. If any of this strikes you as odd, check out the documentary "I Like Killing Flies" and form your own opinion of this guy and his food styling.

I'm really getting jazzed about the notion of having an outlet for my random blurbs. I hope I gain a little finesse with words and am able to share some interesting things and recipes. TA TA!!

Icing equals epic fail

Today was intended to be my debut to the blog world. I had high hopes of beautiful confection success and bragging about just how bad ass it feels to be in my particular shoes at this point.

I had everything stacked in my favor. We (I'll get to the "we" part soon.) had a fantastic post work breakfast at BigTruckTacos with Mexican beer. The husband and I arrived home to our warm house with new black out curtains (we both work nights and have been plagued by sun while we try to sleep). So the stage was set for success and then somehow I turned into this crazy helamonster thing that screamed nastiness at my poor defenseless husband.

The husband figure had no choice but to turn into a pile of goo and sadness as I explored options to cover my beautiful cupcake creations with something that resembled icing. The icing looked more like concentrated eye crusties than something edible. The husband figure was smart to retreat into the living room to escape my fury. The cupcakes were very good, moist and buttery, I just for the life of me could not understand my failure with the icing. I wanted to make everything so perfect, with airy and thick beautiful icing and was just so disgusted with my best effort at being thoughtful coming to reality in such a sad thin and runny state.

The lessons learned here are plentiful. I have no secret incite into baking. I know that I enjoy it and that in turn I feel a great deal of satisfaction from looking at a finished product. My lessons learned are ones that have been discovered In the past and are waiting around to be relearned again when I get pissy and impatient.
1.) DO NOT RUSH. If you do not have time to cut loose and bake, then do not get started. You will run yourself out of time and end up with ruined icing on the wall and a sobbing husband curled up in a corner wondering what just happened.
2.) Keep back up butter handy at all times.
3.) invest in proper baking equipment. It's pricy but soo worth it.
4.) Breath

So all in all, my cupcakes were wonderful. Everyone at work was super thrilled that someone took time out their day to think of them, and not one person turned their nose up at my less than perfect icing. As it turns out, I fretted over nothing, worried Stephen (that's my husband person) over something that didn't matter and melted myself down quicker than a snowflake In hell just because of my own foolish expectations of perfection.

More to follow. Hello world! I come to eat, drink and be merry! Sod off if you don't like it.