Let's see. Where does one begin?
Cake was something that I never saw coming. I was minding my own business. Sulking about pathetically in an unfulfilled life. I didn't go looking for this, it came...like a snake, startling you with its appearance. It crept up and enraptured my broken and battered heart. And again, I fell in love. Quite contrary to my blatant disregard for l-o-v-e, I went with the program. Fresh out of Heartbreak Hotel, I took a cake class at one of those arts & crafts stores to take my mind off of the break-up scene and the disappointment. I made a cake. And, it somehow made my frown turn upside down. And that's all I really wanted. To feel alive again. To have something to look forward to and ease the chaos that was going on between my heart and mind. Cake took my mind on a much needed sabbatical and like all forms of artistic expression I've practiced, it gave me peace. The kind of peace you don't ever want to lose.
Now a lot of crumbs, some buttercream, and a few fondant figures later, I'm happier than I ever was before. Thoughts of attracting some striking lad, doesn't fill my head or make my heart skip a beat. Cake does. And I'm not ashamed nor do I feel doomed for old-maid status because of it. I'm such a romantic. Maybe my poetic, how do I love thee let me count the ways is outdated. But at the moment, my heart is in a healthy, monogamous relationship with cake. Take a number. Or better yet, eat some cake, while you wait. Because this is the only part of my life, where you can have your cake, all the cake you want, and eat it too.
