And who was notably excluded from this affair?  Me.  Why?  Because it’s a SMOKE BREAK.  So yeah, me and my pristine lungs are sitting alone at Table 7 eating our feelings, which are, yes–wedding cake.  (Ever get the feeling you’ve picked the wrong poison?)

[Which reminds me--if you haven't viewed this little gem from the pre-"Jersey Shore" days, you should check it out.  It has been a major source of inspiration for my work.  And uh... lifestyle.]

(The intro got a little bit cut off, but it was something to the effect of, “I just got back from the gym, and boy are my arms tired!”)

Dear readers, xmas is upon us, and my gingerbread heart is heavy.  And not just because we overdid it with the rainbow M&M roof decorations.  No, it’s just that each year, as everyone scrambles at the last minute to buy the perfect thing for every single person on their list, I can’t help but feel a little empty inside.

If “A Charlie Brown Christmas” or the greeting cards my mom sends me are any indication, xmas is supposed to be about peace, love, and Jesus; instead, it’s about iPads.  Although I’m sure there’s some sort of Bible app available.  But that’s besides the point!  Frenzied, mindless consumerism pervades every aspect of this modern life.  It’s depressing, you guys.

That being said, I sure love getting presents.  And you love me.  And wait, isn’t love one of those xmas things?  (Linus: “DUH.”)  And so… what better way to prove your love this wondrous xmas season than by buying me shit?  You guys, I think my heart just grew three sizes.  Which could be cause for concern since I don’t have health insurance.  Is xmas spirit a pre-existing condition?  (Linus: “Obvs.”)

Now hold on just a minute; put that fruitcake down.  Remember, in order to select the perfect present, you’re going to have to ask yourself two things: not only, “What will Val say about this gift?”, but also, “What will this gift say to Val?”  Because when you get down to it, subtext is critical.  Lesbians love subtext.  Serena and Blair, anyone?  Fried Green Tomatoes?  It’s all about the undertones, people.  You give us a peach, we’ll take… OK never mind, you get the point.

So this could be the perfect opportunity for you to convey a heartfelt sentiment that’s been on your mind all year, but that you’ve have a hard time putting into words.  Or you might just end up giving me the wrong idea.  Either way, awkwardness and regret are lurking behind every Yule log, under every mistletoe.  Isn’t xmas magical?

But don’t panic!  I am here to help.  To put your mind at ease I have compiled this handy holiday gift guide for the lump in your life, including a breakdown of the hidden message behind each gift and a list of the person(s) best suited to give it.  I put eight items on here because it’s vaguely Chanukah-sounding, and I’m still holding out for those gold coins.  (Could be a great stocking stuffer from the Jewish friend who wants to say, “Your blog is the shit!”  Just sayin.)

1. Magical Cupcake and Unicorn Pocket Mirror

($7.00, CakeSpy Shop)

What it says: “I’m aware that the only thing with which you are more obsessed than unicorns is your hair; somehow I find this more cute than obnoxious.”

Recommended for: Those of you who don’t live in Seattle and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with me busting this thing out to obsessively fix my hair in the middle of dinner, during a meaningful conversation, while operating a motor vehicle, etc.

2. Tequila

(Price varies, local liquor store)

What it says:  ”I want to take advantage of you, but without having to work too terribly hard for it.”

Recommended for:  Females.  Attractive or *ahem* otherwise.

3. Ugly SmartWool Socks

($18.95, REI)

What it says: “The thought of your feet being warm warms my heart.  Also, you will forever have the fashion sense of a dorky sixth-grader, at least in my mind.”

Recommended for: My mom.

4. Side Table

($34.99, Ikea)

What it says: “I enjoy coming over for drinks, but milk crates are not furniture.”

Recommended for:  Frequent guests to my apartment.

5. Basic necessities of life–including, but not limited to, bread, toothpaste, laundry detergent, and toilet paper

(Price varies, local grocery store)

What it says:  ”I want to help you maintain the appearance of being the mature, fully functioning adult that your age implies, but that you will never be so long as you continue to spend such a disproportionate amount of your meager income on drink specials and and high-end hair styling products.”

Recommended for:  Fiscally responsible adults.

6. “Daria: The Complete Animated Series [DVD]“

($49.49, Amazon.com)

What it says: “I totally, like… get you.”

Recommended for: My soulmate.

7. Nice (I think?  Can someone confirm?) Shoes

($28.00, Urban Outfitters)

What it says: “I only say this because I care, but FYI–for some occasions in life, Vans may not be your best footwear option.”

Recommended for: Gay male friends; anyone planning to invite me to their New Year’s Eve party, wedding, etc.

8. Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions

($11.53, Amazon.com)

What it says: “This is an intervention.”

Recommended for: Friends and family members who will be spending a significant amount of time in my presence during the holiday–or any other–season.

OK, people (and by “people” I mean the three of you who googled “snooki hair bump” to find this blog), it’s xmastime, and that can mean only one thing: my gay little heart is bursting with a whole gingerbread house full of red and green (and the rest of Roy G. Biv) feelings.  Let’s eat.

First and foremost: regret (DUH), for having blogged with such pathetic infrequency this year.  All I can say about that is, my baddd yo.  And while I could take this opportunity to unleash an interminable litany of excuses that would really get your eyes rolling, I will spare you all but the most impressive-sounding one: I’m writing… *dramatic pause*… a novel.  Yes, a novel.  But PLEASE HOLD YOUR QUESTIONS TILL THE END, we have a lot of material to get through today, and you guuuuys my fingers are already feeling fatigued because blogging takes a lot more effort than updating one’s Facebook status.  (Did I mention that the only thing I love more than making excuses is complaining?  What?  You already knew that?  K, moving along.)

My other main feeling of the moment is irritation because, as I’ve already proven conclusively, xmas is so f-ing annoying.  The only things I like about this over-hyped consumerist spectacle of a holiday are 1) xmas lights; and 2) the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, who I’ve seen live in concert because they are AWESOME.  (LASERS.  I rest my case.)

Other than that, xmas basically ruins everything.  For example, did any of you catch “A Very Glee Christmas” the other night?  Worst.  Episode.  EVER!  Too earnest, not that gay, not at all hilarious, crappy song selection.  They could have at least thrown “All I Want for Christmas is You” in there.  Oh well, at least Sue Sylvester got that *SPOILER ALERT* fur-trimmed track jacket.

If you haven’t seen it yet, don’t bother.  Just watch this on repeat for 45 minutes instead:

Anyway.  In the interest of being condescendingly inclusive, I should note that it has recently come to my attention that xmas is not the only December religious celebration of concern.  Any of you guys familiar with Hanukkah?  Chanukah?  Hanuka?  I’m not going to pretend to know how to spell it.  But I am going to pretend to know what it is: a celebration of olive oil, which already deserved its own holiday for being such a great source of omega-3s, but really clinched it by lighting up a lamp in a temple for a bunch of days during cold, dark, Ancient Hebrew Times.  Hence, latkes.  And matzo (matzah?) ball soup, which in this case I can neither spell nor explain, despite having eaten some.

(C)han(n)uk(k)a(h) is eight days long, and I think it’s either over or still going on, if it has in fact started–I’ll have to look that up on Wikipedia and get back to you.  So to the Jews, Happy (C)ha… OK, I am NOT typing that whole thing out again.  But you get the idea.  And one of you better hook me up with some of those chocolate gold coins for that shout-out.

So think of this post as my early xmas gift to you guys.  (Mainly because I’m too broke to actually buy you anything.)  Actually, it’s more of a Chanukah-type deal, because I’ll be writing multiple posts, but you won’t know how many or exactly when until your Jewish friend posts something about it on Facebook.

In conclusion, I’m back.  And better than ever (or at least better than anything else on your Google Reader.  Or at least anything on your Jewish friend’s Facebook wall.)  And we have much to discuss–the novel, the Jerz, my hair– so let’s light the menorah, pop some caffeine pills, and get quackin’.

Fig. 1: Spotted.

A cupcake!  Which is… not exactly an uncommon sight in Seattle.  But this wasn’t just any cupcake–I knew this cupcake.  Where had I seen this guy before?  Wait, was it–yeah!  The blogosphere!  (Yes, this is what my inner monologue really sounds like.)  And in one of those disorienting moments in which teh internetz and reality collide (kind of like the first time I met Colin), I began to piece it all together as rapidly as my still un-caffeinated brain would allow (which is to say, slowly): this cupcake was none other than Cuppie–the mascot of CakeSpy–meaning that this store was the CakeSpy Shop, meaning that I was currently standing right smack in front of the physical manifestation of one of my favorite blogs.  Omgz!

Now you may well be wondering how I have room in my Google Reader–which, as you can imagine, is packed with feeds that help me track Lindsay Lohan’s every move–for a blog concerning baked goods in Seattle.  But as it turns out, dear readers, CakeSpy aligns more closely with my interests than you might think.

We all know how much I love rainbows, unicorns, and fattening treats, preferably at the same time–like this, this, or this.  Well so does Jessie Oleson, the writer/illustrator/baker extraordinaire (and fellow New Jersey native!) behind CakeSpy.  Her blog posts and artistic creations deftly incorporate all of the above (see Fig. 2) in a manner both whimsical and hilarious.  I mean, how many other food blogs do you know of that manage to throw in Kegel references?  Suddenly I DO find myself caring about the history of sweet noodle pudding (it paved the way for the Bundt pan, you guys!).

Fig. 2: The trifecta.

I first started reading CakeSpy (thanks to Wix, via Erin) while living in Boulder; soon Erin, Cambell and I were regularly emailing each other posts on topics that were almost frighteningly relevant to our own lives (moustache cupcakes, New Jersey bakeries, and cupcake gentrification, to name a few).  And CakeSpy definitely helped inspire the legendary Denver Cupcake Tour (followed by the Great Sugar Coma and Slight Weight Gain) of 2009.

I have to admit that I had gotten a bit behind on my blog-reading since moving to Seattle, so I was only vaguely aware that Jessie was in the process of purchasing the art gallery that would soon become CakeSpy’s Capitol Hill home.  CakeSpy was my f-ing neighbor and I didn’t even know it!  Whooops.  Therefore I was both dumbfounded and delighted as I stepped into the shop, blinking at the walls full of cupcake art and shelves lined with cupcake paraphernalia (I don’t even HAVE business cards, yet somehow I need this).

After picking up and examining every single item (by the way, one should never visit CakeSpy on an empty stomach–I think I almost ate a cupcake-printed oven mitt), I excitedly and awkwardly introduced myself to Jessie, and then proceeded to barf the above story all over the place (luckily the decor in there is already pretty rainbow-looking).  I can’t even imagine how ridiculous I must have sounded (“I’m from Jersey too!  But I started reading your blog in Boulder, and then I moved here…. and my friend Amy reads it too, and so does my other friend Campbell–oh man, one time he made these really good chocolate stout cupcakes… OH and I have this gay blog!  And…”), but Jessie managed to take it in stride (perhaps I wasn’t the only crazed CakeSpy reader to stumble in that day?).

As we were talking, Jessie picked up her paintbrush and continued to work on a mural–a historically accurate depiction of “The Battle of Baker’s Hill”, that epic showdown between Cake and Pie (see Fig. 3).  (If you squint, you can see “VAL” spelled out in the grass… JK.)  Now those are some SASSY baked goods.  At CakeSpy, cupcakes have brass knuckles and pie cuts YOU.  Cutely!  In conclusion, this was one of the most whimsical Saturday afternoons ever.

Fig. 3: Operation Dessert Storm.

It was awesome to get to meet Jessie and and learn about how CakeSpy evolved from a humble blog into the mini-empire of rainbows and cupcakery that it is today (aka… The Dream).  (I’m still working on my empire of regret, think I could open a gallery for that?  Oh wait… that’s my Facebook photos.)  And despite being such an accomplished blogger/artist/Capitol Hill Person of Note, Jessie was incredibly gracious and down-to-earth–personally, I would start acting like an asshole if I got profiled in The Stranger.  Or… linked to in CakeSpy.   JK you guys!  I’ll be tolerable!  (But not likeable!  Unless you like surly.  Which you do!)

This Saturday is CakeSpy’s grand opening gala, which will include cupcakes, live music, and me acting really cool again (“…and I met Campbell in Boulder, but he’s from Jersey too!  Oh and this one time we made peanut brittle…”).  Campbell, Amy, Shelley–I think you guys should fly in for this!  Or would that make the internet explode?  Or maybe just me?  Either way the night would end with rainbow explosions, cupcakes splattered everywhere, and everyone regretting knowing me.  It would be like an Ah, Regret installation at the CakeSpy gallery.  Hmm… I’m going to write a proposal for that.  On this!  You can catch me in The Stranger, yo !!