Miss H and I

No cake in my house shall ever go to waste, so long as I have breath in my body.

Sometimes I worry like I’m going to end up like Miss Havisham. Do you remember her? She a pivotal character in Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations. An eccentric to say the least. Well in case you haven’t read the book, as a young woman, she fell in love with a man, and was left at the altar on her wedding day. On that fateful moment, she stops all the clocks in her sprawling mansion, and her heart turns to stone. It becomes the defining moment of her life, and she never recovers from the trauma. Filled with rage, sadness, shock, and embarrassment, she becomes a mad and bitter recluse. The towering wedding cake is left to decompose in it’s gigantic rotting splendor, and till the day she dies,  Miss Havisham never takes off her yellowing wedding dress or removes the dead bridal flowers that decorate her hair. In that fateful moment, she begins her descent into deeply broken, possibly insane woman, overcome with bitterness.

I have moments where I think I’m becoming her. Why?

For starters, I am most definitely becoming an eccentric (though I have to say, I like it).

I was also once asked for my hand in marriage only to be dismissed and forgotten. It hurt like hell.

Sometimes I feel this bitterness growing inside of me. I have moments when I feel so angry.  I try to ignore it, but there are days when I can feel that seed growing. That seed is comprised of hurt and fear. I see so many women in my situation who have really become sour. I desperately do not want to become that sort of person … but oh how easy it is for that brave face to slip on a bad day.

Happily, with the passing of time, I realize that Miss H and I are not the same at all. I am becoming stronger. I’m growing into the woman I’m supposed to be. That makes me feel proud. No, I won’t become the next Miss Havisham. Why?

Well let’s get one thing straight, there would NEVER be a rotting wedding cake in my house. I’d surely have eaten the whole thing all by myself… just for spite (and tastiness). As I wouldn’t be getting married, it’s totally okay if I got fat. Besides, I love cake. I’m pretty sure my cake would be custom made mille crepes monolith from Lady M in NYC. Have you ever tasted it? Deviiiiiiine. Surely I couldn’t let all that deliciousness go to waste. Those cakes are f’ing expensive! Heartbroken? Yes. Crazy enough not to eat yummy overpriced cake? Hell no, that’s what I live for dont’cha know! That’s why God invented elasticated sweat pants.

Who needs a thigh gap when you can have this?

I wouldn’t wear my wedding gown forever. I have to admit, when I first got dumped, I wouldn’t change my clothes for days and days. Maybe I shouldn’t admit this, but I am not a pretty crier. No sweet little tears. No indeed. Truth be told there there was plenty of snot too. It would get all over my clothes. I wore it like a kind of badge of honor. But eventually, it had to be changed. I couldn’t stand my own self after a while. I was getting kinda crusty.

Another difference is that I don’t actually WANT to wallow in my misery and aloneness.  Miss Havisham made it her art form and her life’s work. I force myself to meet new people and to do things that enrich me. There are times when that it is a real effort. They say that “happiness is a choice.” From the bottom of my heart, I want to experience what it feels like to be truly happy. I am working on it, but it surprisingly hard to do despite how simple it sounds. It involves changing the way you think. It is about being vigilant with yourself when you know you are slipping.  I am a work in progress.

I could never stay home all day. My little excursions are what I live for. I love going on trips to the museum, trying a cool new restaurant, or a new experience. I’ve had a lot of new experiences lately (but a lady never tells LOL). Well sometimes she does, but maybe I’ll save that for another post.

Speaking of fun excursions, I am soooo super excited about an upcoming adventure with a very dear friend. Moi is going to New Orleans!!! I’m going to teach the locals how to  inhale beignets like a boss. Watch this space. Shenanigans are a’comming! Feelings… pah. Time to brush that shit off, walk outside, and live.



  1. How nice to hear of someone who is NOT a pretty crier. There is snot and noise and blotches involved with me. Goodness how attractive.
    And yay for cake. And laughter. Sometimes tears are the toxins which need to be expelled, but there is always cake. And chocolate. And art. And literature…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m not sure exactly what I want to say except I love this post and it made me feel great 😘 Who needs a thigh gap, indeed? Very witty and the Scarface meme has me actually LAUGHING OUT LOUD – not just lol’ing.

    You are the anti-Miss Havisham.

    Very cool you get to go to New Orleans. Have fun!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. For the record, I’m not a pretty crier either. My eyelids swell up like my eyes have been punched and stay that way until the next day. No silent, dainty crying for me 😭

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Blubbering fool of a not pretty crier over here. OY I turn in to quite the mess. I think eccentricity can make us infinitely more interesting but yeah, no wasting cake in my house either!!!

    Oh, and btw, we are going to make Al Pacino look like an amateur. Bring on the beignets!!! ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I soooo get the “Snot running down your face” crier. It’s not pretty…but it’s vital and freeing!
    Every time I read your words, I feel your strength and power coming thru my own computer.
    Haven’t I told you that before?


    Liked by 1 person

  5. I don’t even see you locking yourself away, dedicating your life to preserving your pain. You have too many things that you enjoy and feel passionate about! It’s just not YOU.

    BTW, this post deserves a like for that heavenly picture of the crepe cake, if nothing else. And that comes from someone who is most definitely a pie person :).

    Liked by 1 person

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