Kilt It Ded

This morning, I went into work and felt like all the stupid people decided to email me about things.  Really, it was just a repeat lady, but it felt like more.  One of my immediate reactions was that I wanted to bake something.  Because, well, who doesn't like baking? 

I decided to make Pear Coffee Cake.  Which turned into Pear-Cherry-Pecan Coffee Cake.  Hey, the recipe called for dates, which I just wasn't into.  And I couldn't find hazelnuts, which is what I really wanted.

~Random tangent: Why is it that if Oregon has the biggest crop of hazelnuts in the US, I couldn't find any at the store?  That seems weird.~

Back on track.  As I'm making my delicious cake, I'm using my mixer to cream things and mix things and whatever.  I add an egg, and mix.  Add another, and mix.  Add a third, and mix.  As I turned the mixer off the third time, I notice it's starting to smoke.  Poor pathetic mixer.  What do I do?  Add the vanilla and mix.  Except that the mixer doesn't really want to mix.  I try turning it up.  Mistake.

Now, it makes a really weird whirring sound, smoke more, and the sparks.  And then the whirring sound was no more.

I kilt my mixer.  Kilt it ded.  Sigh.  Good thing I'm getting married and can register for a new one!