If you’ve never been to the site for cake wrecks (http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/) you really must go. Some of the most hideous looking disasters you ever saw. The beauty in cake wrecks is that someone set out to make a perfectly lovely cake and somewhere it went bad. I’ve always felt true beauty is in the flawed (see my earlier blog on beauty).
My friends decided this was the theme of my most recent birthday cake and they did an awesome job. Just look for the worst pre-made cake at the grocery store, add some “meaningful” dollar store items and viola! This was seriously the best cake I’ve ever been given.
Birthdays are more often than not disappointing, however. I don’t mean to sound like an ungrateful bitch, but if anyone knows me, they understand I am not about perfection. I would much prefer a homemade cake that is sliding just a bit to one side and has cake crumbs in the frosting than a perfect store-bought one. When my family gives me clothing it is generally very nice, but never something I would actually wear, generally because it either (a) has a picture or words printed on the front; (b) is not my laid-back style of comfort; or (c) is totally inappropriate. My husband’s aunt actually gave me underwear one year! I understand that I should be grateful I got a gift at all, and I try very hard to be gracious about anything that is given to me. I’m just saying that….
When you’re talking about gifts, it truly is the thought that counts. My friend Laurel gave me a homemade CD with music from one of my favorite artists. My friends Meg and Joan both gave me items scented like cinnamon, which has to do with a part of my nickname. Wine, vodka..heck, any alcohol is appropriate. I like to drink plus it’s a bonus that I might be able to forget I’m turning another year older!
The worst/best gift I got this year was from my son, who for the 2nd time gave me the world’s worst pajama bottoms. He knows I love to lounge around the house in my pjs. I swear these things are made from burlap. They are itchy and weigh five pounds. A thing of beauty I’ll never wear but will always cherish.
Holiday Chicken Salad
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