A recap:
It's our glass houses, our floorplans, our gods, our cake. It's our real cake, our metaphorical cake, it's the vanilla and chocolate and yellow cakes that we have or have not or eat them or discard them. And what the fuck? where is all this goddamned cake and what the fuck does it look like? And why am I constantly longing after the preservative-filled-pre-packaged-twinkie-type cakes offered this world, and why am I satisfied with eating only this one crappy variety? I want Tiramiseau. I want German Chocolate. I may not even have to eat it, but one day goddamnit I'll at least recognize it. May cake help us all.

Just to tease you all a nit with a little bit of NYCD goodness, here's an excerpt from "Merry Christmas", one of the brand spankin' new NYCD essays. Enjoy.

--Basically, I think most of that crap is bullshit—the spirit and the scrooginess, all of the good will and commercialism, the religious hoo-ha, gift cards, and all of that woe-is-me-pity-party holiday suicide crap and I guess that’s why I don’t really celebrate Christmas anymore. I do admit though, that I miss the smell of pine in the living room, miss the idea that people are forced to spend time with me and smile.
Even in my non-celebratory state, I usually receive a few gifts around Christmas. These are usually the result of some secret Santa co-worker or a close friend that couldn’t resist some ridiculous gag gift that will customarily make us laugh; these gifts always remind me of a store bought cupcake adorned with one skinny pastel candle you might give an aquaintance on their birthday—something you might get and have rather received nothing at all than to admit that all these years, all of this holy stoic silent reverence comes down to one crooked candle, some amount of buttercream frosting; some haphazardly purchased gift wrapped in last weeks discarded funny papers bearing a name, maybe your name. My name.

I have been thinking lately that maybe this is wrong--maybe those cupcakes are good--maybe they're exactly what we all need. To think--that all this cake we've (I've) been so desperately seeking are dressed up as storebought sugariness, maybe we all just need to bite in to this personal sized pastry to find out what's inside. Maybe like Alice, when we hear the words "eat me" when the candle is blown out, when the little pastel droplets of wax are groomed from the frosting, we will eat it and grow to be what we previously thought impossible.

Or maybe I'll just write a poem for Mark.

We tend to create signposts from calendars,
but generally we fail to see
the sugary glee and lavender innocence,
the anthropomorphized smiles
of the whiskered ginger kittens
adorning the opposite page.

Addendum to New Years Resolution List:

6. I will buy a calendar with kittens on it.


Nick said...

If only you'd told me sooner. I just set fire to a kitten calendar and shoved it down the garbage disposal. Ba-hum-bug.

charles.bukowski.costanza said...

sugary glee and lavender = god goodness.

christmas this year was big for me. ..i got one present, i don't mean that, but i mean going to the overflowers-crowded-into-the-annex-room xmas eve service, and the singers there sang songs that were orignal soul numbers written by one of the girls in the choir, and one was fromt the point of view of one of the shepherds, and if you were here right now i would sing it for you and make you promise to love the whole world forever.

Thaozee said...

I received a dodgy old wall plaque thing of the movie "Speed" with that Keanu Reeves fellow. There's is even a fake message on it saying that I'm "...the bomb on his bus...", signed with a dodgy signature. Fucken bliss.

Happy New Year Miranda

Milkshake said...

I love you all.
For Reals.