All of a sudden, everyone’s getting married. I suppose this is what happens when people turn twenty-five, decide they should start acting like grown-ups and supernatural powers turn the on the baby-button.
Still, the whole business of “I do” gets me feeling a tad blue. Not that I don’t want to get married. I do. Very much. I’m not immune or above my peers’ domestic desires. I like white dresses, I like babies, and I like the idea of a lifetime companion for forever and eternity, etc., etc, blah, blah, blah.
The crux of the issue is that the topic of weddings is beginning to dominate my daily conversation. Where career goals and dreams of travel once stood, tacky bridesmaids dresses and stumbling vows remain. I fear the lists of baby names are soon to follow, along with home mortgages and potty training.
As a diversion tactic, I turn the talk to cake. In my world, weddings and career can be conveniently condensed into one. When friends make their jubilant announcements, I express congratulations and promptly turn discussion to dessert. An avoidance tactic? I really like sundae bars, don’t you? Or, once I saw this beautiful cake on Martha Stewart, but I think those Swiss dots are incredibly over-done, don’t you think?
Cake flavors, toppers, decorations, fondant, or no fondant….these are my important questions. It is my realm. And I love it.
I am making my first “official” wedding cake in just a few weeks. I’ve covered cakes in fondant for class and frosted cakes for fun, but this cake is starting to feel like the opening night of a performance. Gum-paste flowers are under construction, the logistics of how I’ll ship 14 inch pans and turn-tables are under consideration, and Katie, my sister-friend and co-conspirator in all things, is booking a ticket to come along for the ride as the Official Cake Cheerleader (OCC). She will make positive affirmations as I precariously load each tier into a car and cautiously drive across town. And I will be eternally grateful.
So, for now, I am focusing on cake, unabashedly avoiding life’s bigger questions and contemplating the possibility of rolling out fondant on my parents’ new dining room table.