I Cooked And Baked And Blew Up Balloons But There Won’t Be A Party, It Was All For Nothing, No One Is Coming

 

It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to.

Does anyone want a Milk Chocolate Cumberland Sausage bun? I have 24. I made two batches this morning. And I made two batches of Dark Chocolate Cumberland Sausage buns too (80% cocoa solids), in case little Emily and Lottie felt they were too old for Milk Chocolate Cumberland Sausage buns. They’re nice, I put Cadbury’s Chocolate Buttons on top.

I also made a Cumberland Sausage trifle (like a traditional sponge trifle but without the sponge – I used Cumberland sausages instead). And I made a cake that DOESN’T have Cumberland sausages in it, it’s an Opium & Laudanum Sandwich cake that I made for Branwell because when little Emily told him about the party he got excited and said he wanted to come, and that’s what I’m going to eat all by myself, I’m going to scran the whole fucking lot of it, my Opium & Laudanum Sandwich cake with FRESH CREAM AND JAM.

Tonight, Matthew, I’m going to be THOMAS DE QUINCEY.

They all said they wanted to come. I expected Lottie to decline but she surprised me and said yes.

I surprised myself by even considering having a jolly-up, by even allowing the idea inside my head when Judith put it there. What type of She-Hermit has a PARTY?

A RECOVERING type of She-Hermit has a party and that’s what I went to bed thinking, maybe this is the first step on the road to recovery for me, maybe this party is the start of getting my life back again.

I should have known though, shouldn’t I? Fool, fool, fool. Fucking stupid simple gullible fucking fool.

 

You’re too late for a bun. I smashed them up with my brick during my shaping session. You can lick the chocolate buttercream out of my hair if you want to though, before it dries up.

 

I don’t know what to do with all these balloons. They’ll hurt my ears if I pop them. I can’t open the back door to set them free in case little Emily and Branwell are still outside, waiting for a chance to get in. She’s mad at me, foaming. Raging.

 

The phone won’t shut up either. Ring fucking ring fucking ring fucking ring, as soon as it stops it starts again, RING RING RING RING RING RING RING  

 

LEAVE ME ALONE, LOTTIE

LEAVE ME ALONE

LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can’t stop crying

but it’s MY party

and I’ll cry if I want to.

 

 

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35 Comments

  1. clownonfire

     /  March 17, 2012

    Dear Dotty,
    [Speechless]
    Love,
    CoF

    Reply
  2. This made me cry Dotty. It’s a real bad Saturday… dead frog over at CoF’s place and now this?? Do you mind sharing the Milk Chocolate Cumberland Sausage bun recipe?

    Reply
    • Dear Anette,
      Sad Saturday. Yes it is.
      Love Dotty xxx
      P.S. the recipe is — some packet bun mix, some Cumberland sausages (chopped), some milk chocolate. Mix them, bake them, eat them (or smash them up with a brick, it’s up to you).

      Reply
      • Oh dear Dotty. Thank you so much. I will bake and eat. If Saturday continues it’s vertical trip, buns might get hammered. I only have to bricks. Thanks.

      • Dear Anette,
        They do taste nice, but not with hair in them.
        Love Dotty xxx

      • Dotty, I’m sure they taste nice. Thanks for the tip, I will leave cat in engine room while baking. ♥

  3. Grumpy

     /  March 17, 2012

    Dear Dotty,
    Although I pressed the ‘like’ button, I ‘don’t like’ to see you upset.
    Grumpy x

    Reply
  4. Fault, schmault! I cannot count the number of times I planned something, and then just decided against it. I think your Cumberland Sausage Trifle sounds lovely — I hope you use good, heavy, full-fat whipping cream, instead of that half-fat crap.

    I really am sorry to see you distressed, Dotty, and I have to admit, since it was my idea in the first place, that I blame Lottie. and Scotty. Ha — you thought I was going to say myself, didn’t you? Dry your tears, honey, and knock the crumbs out of your hair. Put on some Dean Martin, and settle in to your very own party. Who needs them? And if Emily wants to share in the goodies, she is going to have to get off her tiny little high-horse and act like a friend again. The opium & laudanum cake will help you sleep, and when you get up in the morning — well, your head may hurt a little from the brick shaping, but you will be a wiser woman even than you are today.

    I love you, Dotty. Doo-be-doo-be-doooooooo,

    Judith

    Reply
    • Dear Judith,
      You’re right (you’re always right, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you to put me right) – it IS Lottie and Scotty’s fault, if they hadn’t been doing everything they’ve been doing lately I’d be okay.
      The trifle is on the telly. I’ll have to wash it off so I can watch Casualty tonight.
      They can all fuck off, I’m going to eat what’s left.
      Love Dotty xxx

      Reply
  5. Dear Dotty,

    That’s the spirit! Enjoy! Oh, and I think you ought to do a cookbook — maybe “The She-Hermit’s Guide to Everything Cumberland Sausage” or something like that. Think of the good you would do for the world by clueing them in to the marvelous versatility of Cumberland Sausages!

    I wouldn’t say I’m always right. Rather, I’m on about the same level — mental, in other words, and so I get you!

    Love,

    Judith

    Reply
    • Dear Judith,
      I don’t think I could do a book about Cumberland sausages, it would be bigger than THE TIMES ATLAS OF WORLD HISTORY. And that’s BIG.
      Love Dotty xxx
      P.S. I think you’re always right.

      Reply
  6. Dorothy

     /  March 17, 2012

    Dear Dotty,
    You’re a lucky she-hermit to have such a smart friend as Judith. Enjoy the show and put this awful tragedy behind you.
    Dot

    Reply
  7. Dear Dotty,

    It must have been going around today – because I will tell you I was a crying awful mess. All sniveling to a friend of mine about how sad I am…

    The howler gave me a knowing little stare, told me that I was depressed – and I had been for a few weeks. He then told me to try taking better care of myself and to take a nap… (I think it was because he wanted a nap though… and he was sick of my noise… because he promptly flopped down on the sofa and started snoring)

    The jerk.

    -the howler and me

    Reply
    • Dear the howler and me,
      It has been a really SAD SATURDAY today.
      I don’t think the howler was sick of your noise, I think he was demonstrating what you needed to do – flop and snore. Oh, and maybe he was imitating YOUR snores.
      Love Dotty xxx

      Reply
  8. They aren’t the helium balloons again, are they — I get so tired of you complaining of a headache after you inhale them all.

    Reply
    • Dear Gobby,
      But they’re good. I can talk to myself in my own voice and I can also talk to myself in a SQUEAKY VOICE WITH AN AMERICAN ACCENT that I pretend is YOU.
      Love Dotty xxx

      Reply
  9. Dear Dotty,
    Comfort and love to you,
    Veggiewitch

    Reply
  10. If you’ll be De Quincey, I’ll be Coleridge.

    Reply
  11. I can empathize. I bought a “Host a Murder” kit, back when they used to sell them…and then realized that I didn’t know 10 friends to invite. I didn’t even -have- 10 friends. Meh. And it was such a nice one. Elvis inspired. 50′s rock singer dies mysteriously, everyone at the party is a subject, except one, who is the murderer. Everyone comes in appropriate costume, gets a character card to role play and wanders doing so. The cards say how that character feels about the other characters, for roleplay realism, but also for clues to the murder. Sorry…still a little bitter…but doesn’t that sound fun?

    Meh. Maybe someday I’ll host one on the intar-webs and you can all come!

    *hugs*

    KC

    Reply
    • Dear KC,

      Parties are for wannabes and show offs anyway. They can stick them where the KC and the Sun don’t shine. ;-)

      Love Dotty xxx

      Reply
      • *snort-giggles* Yeah, what you said! *hugs, hard*

        btw, that’s -twice- you’ve made Dutch blush. At this point she’s gonna haveta change out her plaid for a dress! (Ouch! Dammit, you know I was just ragging on you…why you always gotta Gibb-slap me?)

        And that’s the most positive poem I’ve ever seen Janey write…so that’s something too. ;)

        KC & Co.

      • Dear KC,
        :-)

        Love Dotty xxx

  12. chocolate sausage buns are either the grossest thing ever, or the best idea ever. I can’t tell which.

    Reply

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