Airbrushing Test

Friday.  (a.k.a.. test day)  For our proficiency we had to cover two styrofoam cakes in fondant.  Then we had to airbrush one to look like wood flooring, and the other to demonstrate the other skills we learned about airbrushing.  We started with a demo showing us how to cover a styrofoam cake in fondant and then we were set free to get to work.  I stared at the clock... ok by 4 pm I need to start my wood flooring cake, then by 5 pm I need to get started on my second cake.

I got going on my wood flooring cake and I was having trouble adjusting to the new gun.  Yesterday, if you barely pulled back on my gun's lever paint would come rushing out, but this new gun you had to pull back halfway.  You HAD to stop halfway, or suddenly the paint would gush out.  Six unwanted dark lines later I figured this out, and got the flow of the new gun.  I was so grateful that our proficiency was wood flooring, because the more rugged it looked the better.  I kept my eye on the clock, it was almost five so I needed to wrap this sucker up and be done.

I cleaned the brown paint out of my gun and set up my cutting board to cut out some stencils.  My instructor came by and asked me, "Emily where is the paint cap for your gun?"  I glanced over at my gun, naked of it's precious paint cap.  Background info.... half of the guns had broken during the week, so my instructor had woken up extra early that morning to drive out to the company and personally fix each one.  So being careless with the gun was like spitting in his face.  Ok back to the story.... "Um, I'm not sure I'll find it."  He gave me that look that instructors give you when they want to hit you in the face but it's illegal.  I kept going on my stencil, I had a schedule to keep to, but I was panicking because I had no idea where that freakin cap could be!

He came back later and I still had no idea where it was, he started telling me how expensive those guns are and how misplacing a cap would make one useless.  I felt so horrible, if I could say sorry in every language known to man I would have.  I looked at the clock and it was nearing 6 pm.  I made a ghetto cap out of plastic wrap, and started on my second cake, determined to finish.  I was super flustered, so I over-sprayed my stencil, and was barely mentally present as I quickly sprayed on my dots.  My friend later found my cap in the dish room and it wasn't a big deal.  But I couldn't shake the feeling.  I think my instructor could tell my spirits were crushed, because he was super gentle about any criticism of my cakes, making them sound more like suggestions.  The only thing I was proud of was holding it together the rest of class.  I kept my composure all the way till I dropped down in my seat on the train.  Then I stared out the window and cried like a teenage girl, grateful to be wearing a hat that shielded my face.  It sucks pissing off your instructor, especially when they are a professional you admire.  It's like a country diehard pissing off Garth Brooks.  But one thing is for sure, these pathetic tear-filled Fridays have got to stop.

Don't feel bad for me for a second though.... I woke up this morning to a GORGEOUS Saturday morning, and I then made the responsible adult decision to eat pizza for breakfast.  Afterwards, I curled up back in bed and watched some of the first season of "How I met your mother", while my paint stained uniforms soaked in the laundry.  Now to top off this lovely Saturday, I'm going out with some of the best girls in Chicago.  Talk to you on Monday! Ciao.