on birthday cake and me being a whiny bitch

so i made myself a birthday cake.

this is kind of a big deal to me, because i never get birthday cake, ever. except for two occasions: 1) my 33rd birthday, where my lovely and fantastic sister-in-law threw me a surprise party and made me a yummy chocolate and raspberry concoction; 2) the second time was this past weekend, when the boy surprised me by picking up an ice cream cake; i'm sure he was tired of me whining about not ever getting a birthday cake, and for that i apologize. i didn't mean to be whiny.

although, having said that, i'm going to get whiny here for a minute. every year for the past 25 years i tell people i'm going to make myself a birthday cake (and not to sound egotistical either, but it's a given that i make good cake). and every year, people always tell me, "You can't make your own birthday cake! it's your birthday, let someone else do it!". so i don't make one. and then my birthday comes around, and no cake. and i haven't had a birthday cake since i was 10 (except for those two aforementioned occasions).

so this year, i said Fuck It and decided to make my own cake regardless of what people say, and i bought all the makings for it; and then the boy surprised me by giving me an ice cream cake. he's good, my boy. didn't i stop whining? you're the greatest.

so we ate ice cream cake on sunday, and it was good. then on monday, after the festivities and gift opening of the weekend were over, i proceeded to make cake anyway because, why not? i already had the stuff for it.

the cake:

4 chocolate layers. each layer topped with ganache, then the whole thing covered in chocolate-cashew mousse. sides were coated with mini chocolate chips, the top lined with a ring of cashews.

the picture is fuzzy because i was well on my way to white wine stupor by the time i took it.

after we indulged in it, i insisted that the boy bring it to work with him yesterday because i don't need things like that lying around the house with their wee voices penetrating my inner ear, begging me to eat them. however, i really could have used a huge slice for dinner last night. i had some car troubles (took me a whole hour to start the car in the stupid parking lot at work sitting there sweating my ass off and getting eaten alive by mosquitos; you gotta love the South). by the time i got home, i wanted some instant gratification, and cake would have done the trick. it's probably for the best that it wasn't sitting there on the counter waiting for me to plunge head first into it. because i totally would have done that, you know, planted my whole face in it, only coming up for air every once in a while.

people at the boy's work destroyed it, of course.


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