I wanted to write something about the sexual assault allegations against Brett Kavanaugh and Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s courageous testimony in front of the Senate and how we treat victims of sexual assault and how men still act like they don’t understand why victims don’t come forward, but I feel emotionally drained just thinking about all of it. I’m even winded after writing that sentence. Plus there have been so many great articles written in the past week explaining and analyzing this entire situation. I would just be reiterating the same thing all these incredible female writers have been tirelessly writing, and not just this week but for years trying to explain to people—mainly men, over and over again why women do not immediately come forward after they are sexually assaulted. For example, in Ford’s case after she came forward with her allegations she was immediately sent death threats and had to move out of her house. Not to mention there is a large portion of the population, including almost all Republicans and the President, who are calling her a liar. I wanted to write about how Ford deciding to testify is an inspiring, patriotic act, and the fact that she even has to do it is unforgivable. I also wanted to write about how men now think they are an endangered species. I have read numerous tweets from white men saying, “It’s a dangerous time to be a man,” which has only led me to yell back at my phone. I am in disbelief, in awe even, that men truly believe they are the victims in all this crime. It has been a dangerous time for women since the dawn of time. You are worried about losing your jobs, we are worried about losing our lives. But the other aspect of all this, which is why I didn’t want to write about this, is because I’ve unfortunately realized that certain men really do not care. Senate Republicans do not care. They will not let the FBI investigate and they might even believe Ford is telling the truth but they will still vote Kavanaugh in because they do not care.
I wanted to write about all of this but I baked a cake instead. A lot of people have said that cooking and baking helps them relieve stress, so I thought I would try my hand at it. I don’t cook or bake ever. I only know how to boil water for pasta plus I am really good at working a microwave and ordering Chinese food, so why would I ever need to operate a stove? But my best friend’s birthday is on Sunday, so I thought why don’t I try to bake a cake. And it’s a surprise so if I fail miserably and it doesn’t rise (is that what cakes do?) then no one will have to know. Plus the process of baking should keep me occupied enough to stop thinking about how a man who has most likely sexually assaulted someone will be confirmed to rule on the highest court in our country and his first order of business will probably be to overturn Roe V. Wade, and hopefully after I bake this cake I’ll be too tired to think about it when I go to bed.
I woke up that Thursday morning, the morning of the hearing, and realized I had no baking tools because I do not bake. So I walked down to a store in my neighborhood that has literally everything you could need and is also definitely breaking some kind of fire hazard protocols and I bought a mixing bowl and a cake pan. While I searched the store, I listened to Ford’s opening statement and thought to myself she’s so fucking brave, while also thinking, is this a pan to bake cakes in? Or is it for pies? Later as I waited for the (delayed) train on my way to class, the Senate had asked Ford what she remembers most about the night she was assaulted and she recalled it was the boys’ “uproarious laughter.” “Indelible in the hippocampus is the laughter. The uproarious laughter between the two, and they’re having fun at my expense,” Ford said. “I was underneath one of them, while the two laughed. Two friends having a really good time with one another.” It felt like those words had echoed through the subway station or maybe they were just echoing in my head, but I felt it in my chest and at the pit of my stomach and I tried to fight back tears (not that anyone in New York would be bewildered to see anyone crying in a subway station) so I started to make a list in my head of all the ingredients I would need but the only thing I could think of was eggs. Eggs. Do they sell small cartons of eggs? Because I won’t need a full carton of eggs and I don’t want to waste them.
It was 10 PM at the grocery store when I grabbed all my ingredients as told to me by the Pillsbury Doughboy cake mix box. 1 cup of water, 3 eggs, and ½ cup of oil. Do I need vegetable or canola? Does it matter? I went with vegetable because it sounded healthier. I also picked up cage-free eggs- not that I would truly know if these chickens were free of cages or not. Admittedly, I was not going to research it beforehand, but I trusted whatever brand of eggs was trying to sell to me.
I read that the Senate Judiciary Committee was going ahead with the Supreme Court confirmations tomorrow, Friday the 28th and just knew that Kavanaugh would be confirmed. But I didn’t have time to brood on that – I had a cake to bake! And so I put all my ingredients into my new shiny mixing bowl, poured myself a glass of red wine, and put on some Frank Sinatra. The directions said to stir with a mixer for 2 minutes, but I don’t own one of them because as you know, I don’t bake. So I stirred by hand, a lot longer than 2 minutes, and my hand hurt immensely. But it looked like how batter is supposed to look, so I threw it in the pan and shoved it in the oven (which I remembered to preheat) and set a timer.
During this free time, I can’t say I didn’t immediately jump on Twitter to see if there was any more news (there wasn’t). So I would have to wait until 9:30 tomorrow morning to find out the results (which I kind of already knew). All I can say is that it just sucks. It sucks because I can’t do anything about it. It sucks because the moral compass of our country is broken and shattered and buried deep, deep into the ground probably somewhere in the woods of Wisconsin. It sucks because it’s so obvious what the right thing is and yet the evil will win again. I have no control. It all sucks and it’s not fair and I’m tired.
The timer went off and I was petrified I burnt the cake. The directions said if you poke the toothpick and it comes out clean, it’s done. Why do these directions assume I own all these things- I don’t own any toothpicks. So I shoved a fork in there and I was impressed when it came out clean. So I guess my cake was done. And it looked good! It wasn’t burnt or still wet and when I poked at it, it was firm and how a cake should be. I cannot believe I baked a cake and it turned out alright.
At this exact moment, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow morning, and by the time this article gets published we will and who knows what will happen between this time and then or what will happen in the next year or so, but for right now I baked a cake. A cake that people will eat tomorrow and either spit out or say “hey this isn’t too bad of a cake,” but it doesn’t matter because I baked a cake. Now I just have to get it out of the pan.