Catching the California Wave

I would first like to note that instead of calling the eight other people living in our small apartment complex my “roomies”, I will be given each of them, and all of the other people in my life, a pseudonym.

I am writing this post at 1:16 AM, the day before Easter. This will be the first Easter that my daughter, who I will call Americus (the name I chose before her birth, causing a minor family intervention) would be away from family. Neither of us are big Easter girls, so we were not terribly affected.

One of the roomies, who I will call Dash, recently found a new job and I promised to have a courtyard pizza party to celebrate. I soon learned that everyone’s parents in this complex must have had the same idea sometime in July, because most of its inhabitants all had April birthdays, Americus included.

So, somehow this morphed into a Easter, birthday, and a new job celebration.

Natasha, the only other female roomie in the complex other than Americus and myself, asked me to get the cake,

In my PG-rated mind, I environed a beautiful little Easter cake with vanilla and lemon layers. I’d write, “Happy Birthday: Dash, Americus, Natasha, and Cleave; Congratulations on the new job, Americus and Dash; and finally, Happy Easter”.

I was actually wake-dreaming about the cake and wondering how to get all of that on there. I’d just make my own banner, I thought, in my half-awake, half-asleep state.

I reached for my phone as it binged around midnight.

“I’m going to get the best vegan birthday cake for us girls,” she wrote, “but I kind of promised Cleave a birthday cake shaped like a penis.”

Jesus.

“Where am I supposed to find a birthday cake the day before Easter shaped like a penis?” I typed with blurry eyes.

“I don’t know, Google?”

So, now unable to sleep, I began looking for bakeries in my Southern California area that carried penis cakes the day before a major holiday.

Fearful of what my targeted ads might contain and realizing that a last-minute penis Easter cake would be north of $200, I Googled “penis mold”, hoping to find a cake mold shaped like a phallus.

I cannot even begin to tell you what happens when you Google “penis mold”. Let’s skip this part of the story.

Out of desperation, I went to the Walmart site at 1:00 AM. While I did not find a penis mold, I did find the above cake mold. With some skilled knifing work, I THINK I can shape it into a phallus.

Sadly, the oven in my little studio is also broken. And, no, the irony has not escaped me.

I am hoping that by quickly writing this post I can try to sleep, so pardon its hasty nature. My task for tomorrow is to buy a penis mold for our happy birthday, happy new job, happy Easter cake for Cleave.

I have no idea what kind of frosting to buy. Let’s not even go there, it is Easter, after all.

Edited: It’s now 2;00 AM but I think I finally have an idea involving a sheet cake, some Easter grass, and a sharp knife that just might work. I hope I can sleep now.