Self-inflicted Birthday Party

Monday is my 50th Birthday.  I had never had a party in my life, and decided to throw myself a birthday party.  I had my friend Andrew do the invitations, and had it catered, with servers.  The evening was beautiful, and that part went off smoothly.  I also ordered myself a cake from an organic bakery in Chicago called The Bleeding Heart Bakery.

That was my mistake.

There were many red flags.  I should have known when they were flaky about even getting the order placed.  Or perhaps when I personally drove down, and they gave me a young woman who had worked there a week to place the order, and she had to write it over 3 times.  But I kept saying, it would be so good.  It was suppose to be a 2 tier cake with fondit on top,  covered in fondit circles.  This is kind of their personal trademark, so I thought that it should not be a problem.  I called the day before the party to see if it was processed—yes.  I called when my husband and daughter were on their way down to pick it up.  As they put the phone down, I heard “Oh no”.  When the young woman came back to the phone, I asked what the problem was and she said oh nothing, everything is fine.  I said that it did not sound fine, but was assured that it was something else.  When my husband showed up, they told him that they forgot to do something and gave him $35 back (only a fraction of the cost mind you).  He brought home a cake that was fit for a 5 year old girl with pink and purple daisies on it (and some big blobs that we called a rock garden), the tier off to the side and almost falling off, and the butter cream frosting over-whipped and broken.  I called the bakery 4 times, no manager or owner would return my call—said that they would call me on Sunday.  The party was on Saturday.  I even offered to have my husband return the cake, and I would take 2 from the case, and they said no that they would not do that.  It became the big joke of the party with everyone traipsing down to the basement to see how ugly it was, and laughing.

Andrew to the rescue again, I asked him to see if he could fix it.  He went to my wild flower garden, and vegetable garden, and covered it with flowers.  It proved to be a good cover up for the cake, even though everyone said that you could see how ugly it was if you looked.  Everyone laughed, but I haven’t been able to get over it or get over being mad at my husband.

As a child, in a family of 10 kids, my birthday was the day after an older sister’s.  My biggest memory growing up (and supported by photos), is of me having to have my birthday cake on my sister’s birthday.  She got the big cake, and I got the small one with left-over batter.  My mom said that she didn’t want cake 2 days in a row.  So, cakes have always been a sore spot, and this year proved no exception.

I think that I will move to pies.

And I am done throwing myself parties, I will take a trip to Paris next time.