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March 18, 2008
Stuffed Cake likes to throw her weight around. She has a way of walking through doors, left hip, swivel, right hip, fill the doorway, and then roll through, that clears a path in the room for her. Even people who are not looking in her direction unconsciously move aside to let her through. She is heavy, even for her size, her narrow heels leaving dents in thinner grades of tile and linoleum. At the church coffee hour she holds the place of honor at the desert table, always admired, but unaccountably untouched, carefully re-wrapped and stored for the next function.