December 30 is Grass Phobia Girl’s birthday, and this year, it was her golden birthday – being that she turned 30 on the 30th. Her younger sister was determined to create a birthday bash that would knock her socks off, and last through the entire New Year’s weekend. I partook only in the actual birthday part of the festivities, since I am no longer 30, and cannot party for multiple days as easily as I might once have been able to. Grass Phobia Girl and her friends are known to be some serious lovers of fun, all things inappropriate, excessive celebration, and lots and lots of alcohol. And cupcakes. Let me explain.
Grass Phobia Girl’s sister works in an admirable sector of the non-profit world, focused on bringing educational and job opportunities to those whose tough lives have made it difficult for them to figure out how to accomplish those things after high school – if they made it through high school, to begin with. On the side, though, she has a cupcake making business, and bakes some killer desserts. Often, Grass Phobia Girl is roped into helping with the baking, the decorating, and even the delivery and set up of creative cupcake displays.
Little sister recently set up a fake job, which was part of the overall birthday surprise scheme. It just so happened that she landed a job to make cupcakes for a couple in a nearby town that was heading off for their honeymoon in Paris. So, the theme of the cupcakes was French – Bon Voyage. The cakes themselves were dark, baked with Guinness, and the frosting made with Bailey’s Irish Creme. Fondant decorations included the French flag and little baby croissants. The party was scheduled for the 30th. Little did she know, Grass Phobia Girl was decorating cupcakes dedicated to the loss of her youth.
Meanwhile, little sister sent invitations to the rest of us – these brilliant cards and balloon you see here. We were to send photos of ourselves indicating whether we would attend the party or not, with the use of the balloon as a key prop. There were some real zingers sent in.
When we arrived at the party location, it turned out to be a huge empty house on the island of Alameda. Little sister arranged for food, lots and lots of alcohol, a photographer that took pictures prom-style while attendees adorned themselves in feather boas with elbow length black gloves, and wielded a baguette in ways no baker ever intended. The empty living room turned into a dance floor, and the kitchen was a help-yourself bar with more jugs of alcohol than I could count, and a fridge full of mixers for the the wimps that couldn’t just suck down the liquor straight. A couple kegs outside invited a keg-stand competition, which I’ve never actually seen before, but became a willing party to – it was my job to hold up the legs of the person competing with Grass Phobia Girl. We won.
Grass Phobia Girl arrived with boyfriend and little sister, to a house full of screaming friends and family who’d already been drinking for an hour or two. She was truly shocked – friends had flown in from around the country, and she really had bought the whole cupcake catering story. Little sister and some friends made a movie – a dark and ridiculous film noir style flick, in which the detective goes on a dangerous investigation to try to determine what happened to Grass Phobia Girl’s youth. The film includes lots of cigarette smoking, lewd references, a car accident, implied affairs, and in the end, a shocking murder. Little sister is the one doing the murdering – she murders in order to get big sister to stop hanging out with other people and spend more time at home watching TV – their biggest shared passion.