>Ordering the cake:

“Hello, Local Bakery, how may I help you?”

“I’d like to order a graduation cake — a half sheet.”

“A half sheet serves about 30. Does that sound right?”

“Yes.” We’d invited about 50, but we figured maybe half would show.

“And what kind would you like?”

“Marble, please.” Family tradition: we almost always get marble cake for special occasions.

“Graduation cakes usually say ‘Congratulations, 2010, the graduate’s name, and the school.’ What is the graduate’s name, please?”

Now it gets challenging.

“We’re actually celebrating three graduations together.” I spell the names for her.

“And the school or schools? Are they all, um, in town?”

“Well, no. One is a local high school, one is University of Wisconsin Whitewater, and the other is graduating from UW-Madison with her Masters degree.”

“Oh. Okay, we’ll just leave the school off. Now, colors. Do any of the schools share a color in common? Blue? Red? White?” I could tell she was searching now.

“Two out of three share red and white. How’s that?”

“Okay, we’ll use red and white in the frosting. And the third?”

“Purple.”

Pause.

“Purple and …. white?” I could tell she was hoping it wasn’t an ugly combination such as Viking purple and gold.

“Yes, purple and white.” She didn’t sigh with relief, but I heard it in her voice.

“Okay, then I’ll make a note to work in white, red, and purple in the frosting.”

We went over the details and arranged for the pick-up time.

Good thing the cake doesn’t need to include our anniversary (last Wednesday) and my brother’s birthday (last Tuesday) on top of the rest. We could have had pictures for the brand new babies who will be here, too — okay, enough already. A cake is a cake is a cake! Now I’d better start gathering the cloth napkins and making potato salad and setting up the condiments for the burgers and….

>She’s the evil character: the one the audience loves to hate.
She’s the one determined to force the others to fail.
She is so self-centered that even her thoughts and journals reflect her nastiness.

She’s played brilliantly by Jane Lynch on the Fox show Glee.

Yes, I’m a Gleek. I watch Glee, record it to enjoy again later, and tweet/ plurk/ share my reactions with other Gleeks online and in person. I watched the Glee cast on Oprah, enjoying their personal take on the characters they play. All are wonderful, talented musicians and actors. But as I’m cheering on the New Directions (the show choir/ glee club featured in the show’s name), I’m laughing uncontrollably at their nemesis, the cheerleading coach.

Glee is a classic situation of jocks vs. artists. The football team welcomes a gay student because he can kick; he teaches them to dance. The cheerleaders (Cheerios!) in the choir are caught in a loyalty tug-of-war because their coach (the aforementioned Sue Sylvester) hates their glee club director so badly she’s determined to cause the ensemble’s failure. The principal is caught in a bind; he supports the Glee Club, but evil Sue blackmails him (unbelievably and hysterically) into keeping her on staff despite her transgressions and favoring her Cheerios’ budget.

So how can she be funny? Pay attention when Sue speaks. In fact, turn on the closed captioning. Her lines contain such surprising, creative, and outrageous statements, you’ll want to hear them twice. Complaining to the Cheerios that their performance was substandard, she cries through the bullhorn, “You think that was hard? I just passed a gallstone! Now that was hard!”

Wait until she confides in Kurt and Mercedes about her hair hang-ups and throws “napalm” into the conversation without a blink.

I can’t wait to see more. But Ms. Sylvester, don’t count out the musicians. Still waters run deep, especially in artists. They may be geeks and nerds, but their talents are strong and motivation stronger. Together with Spanish teacher & Glee Club director Will Schuester, the New Directions will pull through.

While hilarity and great tunes ensue, of course.