none the wiser

Every year I decide that this is the year I won't plan anything for my birthday. And every year I cave at the last minute.

This year, like every other year, I planned to do nothing. Enquiries about my birthday plans had been lukewarm save for one. I had planned to go for a drink and a nice dinner by myself, not to avoid anyone but just to take in the experience quietly without the pressure of organising. It's a lot of work to make people celebrate a day that's only of importance to one person.

My friend was having none of that, though, and took me to Chambar, encouraging just another glass of the yummy beer as he picked up the check. We had to talk over the Madonna crowd and, had we planned for 30 minutes later, would have missed the ruckus and broken glass. It was the sort of experience I had hoped I could watch during my solo dinner, but it was much more fun to talk in hushed tones about people wearing too many sequins and not enough good taste.

The battle with Hallowe'en has reached a truce. I no longer try to compete with a synthetic holiday that people would rather celebrate than the late night hour I was born. I thank my mother that she managed to birth me less than an hour before Hallowe'en; this way I can support that it's tacky to wear a costume on the wrong day. Those that think it's fun to have a Hallowe'en themed birthday every year of your life should try it sometime. It isn't fun to be the busker outside the circus.

And so I celebrate my birthday today.

Plans to bake six desserts for who knows how many people have been tested. At 9pm I discovered that, when my oven was replaced, I forgot about the baking paraphernalia in the drawer. A frantic call to my landlord resulted in nothing but him blacklisting me as crazy (probably). Three of my desserts relied heavily on those pans/tins (and by relied heavily, what I mean to say is relied entirely). I couldn't make dinner until midnight and didn't eat until 2am. I realised that the showstopping cake I wanted to make required a candy thermometer because of the necessary precision of temperature for the icing; I lack a candy thermometer. I ran out of flour at 3am, suspending production until the shops open this morning. Anxiety about the day's schedule woke me up at 6:30. We'll just see what happens at this point. It might come down to throwing a carton of whipping cream, the bag of icing sugar and frozen berries into the middle of the table and hiding in my closet, between the shoes and the luggage.

I'm sure things will go fine; I'm just a drama queen. A worst-case scenario kind of girl.

The shops should be open now. Time to buy bakeware and flour. I wonder if they have candy thermometers at IGA...