aeternamque:

I haunt various tags about it sometimes and it just…flabbergasts me that this thing is still alive after 5 years. Before you get all puffed up, I was the one who made the offering in question. 

I did the Spongecake. I’ve been told Spongecake is my legacy and honestly it seems that way. Just some weird thing that the community still likes and celebrates, which is great.

It’s just horribly confusing to me, really, given it’s been so long and the internet usually buries things like this pretty quickly. 

I guess I’ll give you some more background on the offering itself and the circumstances around it. 

So, 2012 was just not a good year for us financially. We were living off of food donated from various food pantries, because my mother was supporting my brother and I on less than minimum wage in Southern California. 

I got used to eating very little to make things stretch, or just not caring about what I ate, so long as there was SOMETHING. 

My parents’ divorce had been finalized that year, or nearly was. The child support my father paid was abysmal; he always paid it but it was nowhere near enough. After months of feeding her youngest kids on fast food (enough that my brother and I started to get sick a lot, like puking and so on) she had begged him for more money to feed his kids. 

He said no. So, food pantry stuff and fast food were staples. 

We had one meal a day and the rest was snacks. 

The sponge cakes themselves, therefore, were a rarity. Something that was a Want rather than a Need. So was the whipped cream and strawberries – we didn’t have a tone of fresh fruit for a while. 

I wanted to eat all of them, fuck yeah I did, I have a sweet tooth the size of fucking Jupiter. But I decided to make an offering instead, and you all saw the picture, saw the original post on a blog that no longer exists (I’m sad about that, actually).

But I never went into food related issues surrounding the offering. 

No I didn’t make it from scratch and no it wasn’t the best quality but we almost never had things like that around. The sponge cakes were never seen again after that. 

The offering was made of rare, precious deeply loved things. Things I wanted, on instinct to hoard for myself. I was hungry. Trying not to be, but I was. 

I couldn’t think of anything that might mean more to Loki, aside from the fact that it’s, well, cake. Come on. He loves His cake. 

I never expected the blow up and I certainly never expected people to still be finding some kind of meaning in it now, but here’s a little more info on Sponge Cake Day, the stuff the posts from heathen and lokean blogs don’t know, because I never mentioned it until now.