Playdoh, for one. I was a big fan of the clay donut. Ask my older sister, and she'll even tell you- I used to try and eat them, along with my mom's lipstick, chapstick, crayons and hand soap. I guess as soon as I learned to walk, I also started eating everything I put in my mouth, and as most people know... Kids put everything in their mouths.

Later in life, I learned what was proper to eat and what was not, and I honed my donut making skills through arts and crafts.

My very first papier mache project was a giant Garfield-esque donut, complete with pink plaster icing, and real candy sprinkles. I also learned fairly quickly that when you start making giant food products in middle school art class, kids are gonna start making fun of any sort of weight problem you might have, and I became "fatty Mc-donut girl" to all the bullies at View Ridge Middle School.



I took solace in knowing my true motivation behind making my herculean ode to the almighty pink frosted donut- I had a bit of an obsession with Garfield the cat, and it just seemed like something everyone needed to have. I needed a big papier mache pink frosted donut, so I made one. its not like anyone else made anything useful, I think 5 of the 6 boys in the class made papier mache weapons, all of which ended up looking like giant penises. I was a quiet girl, so I never said anything... but I thought it.

The older I got, the more and more my obsession with the donut grew.



In highschool, I made a donut wand. It was a big clay donut atop a length of dowel. As tassles, I Made miniature donut "beads" and miniature Coffee mug "beads" which I hung from lengths of ribbon. All painted, it was truely a sight to behold. I gave it to my best friend at the time, though looking back, I always wished I had kept it for myself.

Later, in art class, I created abstract and realistic paintings and drawings of the pink frosted donut. I started drawing cartoons, a style in which I still draw.


(One of the few donut drawings I have from way back in the MSpaint days)

As time went on, I knew what had to be done. I was getting older, so it seems the best job for me to apply for would be one doing what else, but...

Making donuts.



I applied for and took a position as your friendly neighbourhood donut girl at a local Winchell's donuts.

This job didn't last long, only about two months, as the shop was closing. I guess donuts weren't so popular anymore, The Atkins diet rolled through town, leaving "Low carb" superstores and Vitamin supplement depots in its wake.

I didn't lose faith. I knew that someday.. me and my donut would be together again.

A few years later, I had taken a job at a grocery store bakery. I really didn't start out with a very important "bakery" job. I was the person that cleaned up after all the bakers, did a little baking during the day, and then made everything spotless for the people that worked the morning shift, doing all the cool stuff. As time progressed, I worked my way up (at least when it came to shift start time) and I was asked if I wanted to take the lead donut baker position.

I even made a livejournal Icon displaying my title-


(yep, I've been on LJ forever.)

I was probably more excited about that then any normal person would have been. I had possibly the worst schedule ever, working 1am until 10am, it was a thankless, sweaty, and very very isolated job. I had my donut machine over in the very far far corner of the bakery. The only time I ever saw anyone, was when the people who unloaded the trucks came through to deliver our freight. I started to go a little batty, singing to myself, talking to myself.. 

I loved my job though. Once I got used to it, I asked my boss if I could wear a headphone, so I could listen to music, and she said that would be fine. I had full creative freedom. I was free to decorate the donuts how I pleased, so long as they looked appetizing.

I went crazy. There were pink frosted donuts, chocolate donuts with teal coloured zig zags, daisies on maple bars, flowers on the lemon filled bismarks. Smiley faces on the bavarians. Sprinkles on everything. My boss was so happy, because donut sales were going through the roof. The first thing people saw when they walked in the door and turned towards the bakery, was this brightly coloured barrage of sweetness. We actually had to hire a second person so we could keep up with demand.

Every day, my co-workers throughout the store would call me the donut lady. I'd walk in and my boss would say "time to make the donuts" like in the dunkin donuts commercial. I worked hard, I smiled through the day.. I was happy.

But happiness is often short lived, especially when it comes to big corporations. One day, doing what I do best, "the big guy" head of the bakery department for the entire company, came through our department. Where he had been prepared to thank us for our hard work, and give us a pat on the back for the increase in sales, as soon as he saw the donut case, he turned, told me to take all of the donuts out of the case,  and to make new ones that "Didn't look so stupid".

Everyone was shocked. I actually started crying. This was where things went sour for me, in both my professional and personal life. Within a week, I had suffered a total nervous breakdown, lost my boyfriend, been kicked out of my living situation, quit my job and moved in with my parents. I spent about three days, fully awake, unable to stop crying. Once the tears dried up, I was still crying, only I'd run dry. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I watched every movie my parents owned, and seemed to spend all my free time at the doctors office, where they prescribed me every drug imaginable for both my insomnia and depression.

... no, I don't blame it on the donuts. I'm drawing a parallel.

 It just seemed odd how it all ran together like that. It was the week after Thanksgiving, and I felt like everything I had been thankful for was ripped away, and I had to start over.

But life is funny like that. Donuts, are funny like that. I mean, what exactly IS a donut, anyways, but a bit of fried dough with a hole in it. A missing piece. The only thing that really makes it appealing is the sweet sugary coating we put on it.
The pink frosting. The sprinkles.

Without that, its just a boring bit of dough.. With a hole in it.

Life is kinda boring, without all that fun stuff. The 'perfect' job. Creative freedom, the boyfriend, the happy home.  I'd stopped admiring the donut for its beauty, taken a bite and found myself lost in the hole, where the sweet stuff drips off and onto the plate below.



Luckily, it didn't take me too long to get back up onto the donut again. A dear friend stepped in and offered me a place to live, I was able to use my "mental situation" as a bargaining tool to get a better position in the bakery, where I ended up working my way up to lead cake decorator, and after a little while, I started dating again. And yeah,  that was sort of hit and miss at first, but after a while, I met my husband..



Before I left that company, I always thought it was funny, how sales fell abruptly after I stopped making the donuts. After a while, they restored the donut maker's creative freedom, but it never was the same. I filled in a few times for the new donut maker, but I wasn't ever able to get back into it the way I was before.



I'd moved on.