Done With Cake
I don’t like cake.
I don’t know why or how, but I have been eating cake for almost five decades. Birthday cakes, cakes for baby showers, graduations, weddings, special occasions. And cupcakes — so many cupcakes — big and small, because someone sends them to the office or they’re pretty or they feel festive.
I feel like a party-pooper saying this, but it’s too sweet, I don’t like the texture and don’t get why every special event calls for cake. Why isn’t it cheese? Or pâté? Or a platter of fruit? Grilled corn on a stick can be pretty festive… I even saw a beautiful mountain of sushi on Facebook arranged in a three-tiered “cake.”
I woke up one day months ago and realized I don’t want a cake for my 50th birthday or ever, really. I also realized I have shoveled in thousands of calories I did not enjoy one bit because that’s what one does.
Guess what? I’m done playing along with the cake or anything else I don’t enjoy one hundred percent.
You celebratory people can keep your simultaneously moist and dry glutenous vehicle for too much sugar and fat. I’m taking a stand — I’m not eating or doing anything I don’t totally enjoy. Life is too short.
Now “Cake by the Ocean,” on the other hand, that, I could enjoy…