Well, folks, I woke up this morning and was no longer 30. Which is cool, because now that I'm 31, it means I'm one year closer to 32. I've always felt that 32 was going to be a strangely magical year. I'm not sure why - I don't remember being 2 and being 12 and 22 both kinda blew . . . but something about 32 feels good, guys. I'll let you know how it plays out.
In honour of my birthday (and because I'm really hungry. 'cause I'm waiting for Jeba, whose birthday is also today, to call and tell me where we're having co-birthday brunch), I thought I'd spend a little time reminiscing. About the great cakes I have known.
The Flower Cake: My mom made me a cake in the shape of a flower. It looked like one of those '70's cartoon flower power flowers with a round centre and big fat petals. I believe the icing was green and yellow and I loved it. Not only was it delicious, but the fact that it was a CAKE? In the shape of a FLOWER? BLEW MY FUCKING MIND. I was five.
The Graffiti Cake: I think this was actually my friend Juwi's birthday in junior high. Her mom baked a cake in a large rectangular pan, iced it with vanilla icing and then gave us all a bunch of different coloured icings and cake decorating apparatus and told us to go nuts. We did. That cake was a mess - slanderous "J + A = 4ever" type messages, sheep, stick drawings of people we hated (it WAS junior high, after all). It was awesome. And then, instead of cutting pieces of the take, we each took a fork and dug in. We all agreed later that it was "a very primal experience".
The Garrison Keillor Quote Cake: In my teenage attempt to buck trends, I informed my parents that I did not want "Happy Birthday, Roro" on my 17th birthday ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. They were cool with it. "How about 'Eat Me, Bob'?" my dad suggested. I was instantly taken with it. As the cake orderer, however, my mother was unwilling to call the nice Korean lady at the Dairy Queen and tell her to put "Eat Me, Bob" on a birthday cake. "What ELSE would you like on your cake?" she asked me. I had just finished reading WLT: A Radio Romance and chose the first quote from the book that came to mind. WLT was pretty funny - but it did not in any way match the enjoyment I got from listening to my mother explain to the nice Korean lady at Dairy Queen that her daughter wanted a cake that said "Smells Like Death on a Bun."
The 18th Birthday Cake: For my 18th birthday, my cake said "Eat Me, Bob".
The Cheese Cake: On my 26th birthday, I was heavily into the protein diet. You're not really allowed sugar on this diet. I was, in fact, on such a roll with it that I informed my roommate Jesk that I did not want a cake for my birthday, as it might throw me off my insane diet plan. Jesk is a respectful lass, but does not believe in fucking with tradition. She decided that I must have a cake. And when I got home that day, she had put together a cake - out of cheese. By which I mean she had bought brie, gouda, cheddar and that foil-wrapped cow cheese, arranged it into a cake shape and stuck some sparklers in it. I laughed at this cake until tears ran down my cheeks. And then I ate a lot of cheese.
The Baskin-Robbins ice cream cake is my cake o' choice these days. Dense - delicious - delightful. I have a feeling I may be experiencing one later this evening, when a certain girlfriend comes home from work. I don't want to put any pressure on you, Katr - but a cake with a Brokeback Valley theme would certainly make an impression. 'Cause nothing gets this birthday girl going like soft mounds. Uh . . . of ice cream.
