So the non-main point of this post is that I'm 18 now, and can thus--um-- vote? And smoke, if I wanted to (I have asthma. I don't.), or sign forms for myself without my parents signing for me. Signing forms vicariously is not really a birthday sort of activity, though. (Okay, I have figured out a legitimately awesome thing about turning 18--I can now view LJ posts marked as possibly containing explicit content! Rock.)
The main point of this post is that I decided to make myself a cake.
What kind of cake, you ask?
An ice cream cake.
And here's where I out myself as having lots and lots of food allergies, because it was not just any ice cream cake, it had to be a gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free, soy-free ice cream cake. Oh, and because I don't do anything by halves, I decided that it would be homemade ice cream substitute.
Since this is a nonlinear narrative, here's a picture of the finished cake:

( Long post is long. Also, has pictures. ) I am calling this one a win.
More photos here.
The main point of this post is that I decided to make myself a cake.
What kind of cake, you ask?
An ice cream cake.
And here's where I out myself as having lots and lots of food allergies, because it was not just any ice cream cake, it had to be a gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free, soy-free ice cream cake. Oh, and because I don't do anything by halves, I decided that it would be homemade ice cream substitute.
Since this is a nonlinear narrative, here's a picture of the finished cake:

( Long post is long. Also, has pictures. ) I am calling this one a win.
More photos here.