Boy, do I have some Tales to Tell...
Sunday, December 21, 2008
 
Well, the holidays are almost done. And I am coping quite well. Thanks.

Normally, I don't think much about the month of January. There is this one thing that always happens for me in that month. After the fifth one, I basically barely acknowledged it. I'm not sure why. One day, I will spend a bit trying to figure out why I really don't think of my day of birth any more than I think of any other day.

Last year, was an interesting year because I was in the middle of a big meeting when my co-workers walked into the room with a buche de noel, while singing happy birthday. I actually loved it. Especially since I love buche de noel. It was great. But that was all I did in terms of any celebration.

For 2009, the man asked me if I wanted to do something special. Mostly, we do dinner. I told him I would think about it. I thought about what the best birthdays were for me. I thought about what made me feel happy during all my birthdays. And it occured to me, besides the great buche de noel previously mentioned, my other wonderful birthday was the fifth one.

My mom's friend, who was an amazing baker, baked me a cake and created a clown head out of cake and icing. As a child, I was floored. I didn't want to cut it but my mother told me that everyone, all 35 kids there, wanted a piece. So, we cut it and I remember thinking how great it was to have a delicious cake made for me. I didn't care that all these people attended. I was just happy that someone made me a delicious cake.

And so, this January, I told the husband that I wanted an amazing cake. That's it. Nothing more. I may cook brunch for a few very close friends. And make the cake the centerpiece of the day. But I want an amazing cake. I just have to figure out where I am going to order it from. I've gotten some suggestions. I will be trying some samples. But I want awesomely, fantastically, delicious cake with some tantalizingly amazing frosting.

That should make it a good birthday. Later.
 
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Eating up the City before it eats me up. I'm a freelance cook who spends his free time working out, cooking for "my man", and wondering why the Right is so concerned about my bedroom.

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