And then in true Angst fashion, you laugh about it and make a joke, because to do otherwise would be….too depressing for words and I’m through that stage. Acceptance, Grief, Bargaining…Humorous Self-depreciation? Making fun of thyself…best for thyself. (This brings Jim Gaffigan to mind when he talks about the gym….“I want to look at myself while I work on myself. I should make a recording so I can listen to myself while I look at myself while I work on myself as I leaf through my Self magazine and read about how myself can improve myself. Maybe I’ll go to my Facebook page a look at photos of myself and read what myself has written about myself.” )
SELF SELF SELF!!! SELF-CENTERED!!! Ahhhh!!! You don’t want to hear about me?! But I’m SELF-OBSESSED. No, yes? Just a few more seconds…hold on to your butts! You’ll like it because you’ll get to see me get cake on my face. And who doesn’t like to see someone else get cake smeared everywhere when it’s not even their birthday. Like a large 2 year old, let loose on a personal birthday cake.
Lynyrd Skynyrd said it best….
“Well I can jump in a rosebush and come out smelling like sh$&!”
So the Universe and I had a conversation.
Universe: “Hello Victoria”
Me: “Hey Universe. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately and I’ve really been talking you up on the blog, giving you some serious props. People might be reading about you. There is a slight chance after all. Isn’t that exciting! Don’t you think you could maybe do something nice for me for a change?? Like give me exactly what I want when I want it? Like…right now??!!”
Universe: “True, true, you’ve been talking me up….but that second part…no. No. No. Sorry honey. That’s not how it works. Would you like a piece of cake?”
Me: (huh??? WTF??? Also thinking to myself (who else would I be thinking to???) that the universe sounds charitable and like a good host (or hostess…cakes)) “Sure, I’ll try a piece. Serve it up!”
[Universe gets out the fancy cake knife and plates, cuts a hefty piece with lots of frosting and hands me cake. I take a questioning bite.]
Me: “Very good cake Universe, what it is?” [I savor said cake, tastes like chocolate and peanut butter, my favorite but with a hint of something else…hmmm…]
Universe: “It’s failure. Doesn’t it taste good?”
Me: “Yes, it’s delicious. I’d call it ‘decadently real'”
Me: “Of course, yes, please, you know me Universe. Glutton for Failure cake in the morning.”
[Universe hands me cake, I cram it in my mouth, hands double fisted with gooey delicious cake.]
Or as Moss would say from the IT Crowd (hilarious freaking show. Go watch all the seasons on Netflix….RIGHT NOW!!)
“Ah, well prepare to put mustard on those words for you will soon be consuming them along with this slice of humble pie that comes direct from the oven of shame set at gas mark egg on your face. I sort of forgot what I was talking about.”
And on that note….enjoy the cake! My diet consists consistently of The Universe’s Failure Cake in all it’s delightful flavors. I’ve become accustomed to a diet of deliciously delicate failure. Light, fluffy, sugary-sweet, truly decadent failure. YUM!!
Also I just want my own way, all the time, so clearly that leads to massive universal (universe-wide) cake-level failure (it’s a three layer cake crumbling like an exploding building after the demolition crew has done their worst! WHOOP!). And pity parties. Those too. And thus, I have indulged again in the delicious and undeniable desire to stuff myself full of failure cake [stomach ache commences]. Just like this last time….
Truthfully nothing new has happened, there are no new failures, I just enjoy writing about old ones because they are SO inspiring and rousing and stimulating (I’m salivating!) and this post was too good for the trash heap. It’s more suited for the compost bin or the recyclables, like coffee grounds. So I’ve kept it around (although in the landfill it also would have kept quite nicely for YEARS!). Wasn’t this post just a peach?!
Me: [after exhausting an entire failure cake, face covered in delicate chocolate crumbs and smeared with peanut butter colored frosting, stomach growling with desperate hunger] “Universe do you have some peach cobbler?” [Maybe I’m just hungry and not into failure? Perhaps?]
Me: “UNIVERSE!!! Bring me the petit fours! Eclairs! Boston cream pie! Baked Alaska! White Trash in a trash bag! Dump Cake! Monkey Bread! Whoopie Pies! SPOTTED DICK!! (You Brits!) All laced with the sweet sweet essence of failure! NOW!! The glutton has spoken!” (HAHAHAHA arggggggghhhh!!)