All 3 entries tagged Cake
December 06, 2005
A terrible thing happened today.
No, not that. That was amazing. Even though it wasn't one of our novelty spectaculars, the sheer weight of chocolate in that cake was a wonder to behold.
It's more what that cake represents. Officially, after that mountain of chocolate had a knife sunk into it, I became the Last Twenty Year Old in the house. Everyone else has now risen to that higher plane of being that is twenty-one, and left me behind with the babysitter. They can drink in America, and teach somebody to drive. (The fact that we don't live in America and I have the only valid driving licence in the house is beside the point. It's the principle of the thing.)
And, in principle, I am now the proper baby of the house. When we pose for photographs in our graduation gowns, I will still have the smooth baby face of a twenty-year-old, whilst all about me the haggard twenty-one-ers show the lines and wrinkles of their maturity. And when I go to thirtieth birthday parties, I'll be the most annoying guest, as my mere presence will remind everyone of their woefully lost youth.
Though please don't stop inviting me to the parties. Anything but that.
P.S. Happy Birthday Steve!
October 23, 2005
People have to stop having 21st birthday parties. If they don't, my life will become nothing more than planning the next cake to outdo the last.
And this is no way to live life, I tell you. I must stop trying to render the world in sponge, and go outside beyond margarine and greaseproof paper. Ah well, 'tomorrow is another day'... as Gone With The Wind would have it (though I doubt Scarlett O'Hara ever had this problem. Mind you, I've never had to worry about keeping a large Southern estate from marauding Yankees either, so I suppose we're even.).
October 02, 2005
Read five Shakespeare plays?
Found part-time employment in order to save me from the vicious clutches of my overdraft?
Sorted out that whole business about telling the university I still exist and I'm studying certain modules?
All wrong. Layla and I built a house.
Okay, a cake house. But it's still pretty impressive, for your common or garden sponge. Admittedly, the second storey was a bit dodgy, we had problems getting the chimney straight, and there was some sort of subsistence problem going on that we cleverly disguised by shoring it up with chocolate fingers and relocating it to the freezer for a bit, but that's nothing more serious than the hazards of living in an average student house. In fact, this house is probably better built than ours, with a red front door, a solid roof, diamond paned windows, and flowers round a fetching porch structure that I am assured is south facing. Perfect for a young family or mature professionals, this house needs viewing to appreciate its full potential.
I'd be accepting offers over £100,000, except for the fact that owing to the carnage caused by a 21st birthday tea party, this house sadly is no more.
However, its tragic demise was greatly enjoyed by all, for which we must offer up our gratitude. (You may deduce from that last sentence that I did manage to get through my Jane Austen reading.)