I went as king cake.

So on Friday, I had a cake party (aka “the cakening”). The story as to why this happened is long and boring (short version: I like actualizing stupid jokes!), but the results were adorable, as my friends were game enough to actually come to my apartment dressed as cakes. My friends are delightful.

Costumes included a pancake (a girl with a pan), a poundcake (with a scale), a golf-based Portal reference, an Occupy Cake protestor sporting a “down with cake/up with crepes” sandwich board, a pair of birthday cakes (birthday banners, balloons, and a glitter hat the remnants of which I cannot for the life of me vacuum out of the apartment carpet), two carrot cakes, two cupcakes, and (the most surprising duo of all) two beefcakes. My favorite costume was a girl who came dressed as a bun(d)t cake in a baseball uniform and a bat, mostly because another attendee noticed that she could also play the costume as “cake batter.”

Basically I really like puns. And my friends.

You would think that the rest of the weekend would have been a letdown after such an ultimately pun-filled experience, but you’d be (thankfully) wrong. I spent Saturday doing two of my favorite things: envying other peoples’ interior decorating sense and admiring dogs at a neighborhood festival.

Despite Saturday’s rain, folks were out in force at the Reynoldstown Wheelbarrow Festival, because Atlantans love nothing more than access to funnel cakes and the ability to walk around with our dogs in public spaces.

During my three-hour volunteer span, I saw a Burnese mountain dog (it’s like a bear on a leash!), a Saint Bernard, a well-behaved standard poodle, a dachshund, something that might have been a rat terrier, and approximately 80 mid-sized lab mixes (catchphrase: “I am a dog and everything is wonderful!”). There are worse ways to spend an afternoon.

Saturday night involved a trip to a houseparty with a skate ramp at it. I like to think that this is because I’m a hip young thing who knows about the hot local house parties, but I went because I know that host’s girlfriend. Whatever. (We’re ignoring the part where I bailed on the party at like 11:30 because I wanted to go to bed. I am an old person.)

All in all, a totally satisfying weekend. Now to catch up on the terrifying mountains of homework that appear to have manifested while I was off having fun. Huzzah!