It's okay, you can breathe again. Yes, Coffee Jones, my intrepid "crone-of-honor" talked me off the cake tier, so to speak. She mounted many sensible arguments why it would be a BAD idea for me to make my own wedding cake, including stress, scheduling conflicts during the pleasantly social weekend we have planned before the wedding, and how no one would care but me. (To her credit, she did not suggest this was a bad idea because either a) the cake would be a disaster if I did it, or b) there would be no cake at all, just some crumbs and chunks left over after I'd taken a chain saw to it in frustration. She's so loving, my crone!)
The winning ("icing on the cake") argument was this: It would be like having the bride step aside and sing at her own wedding. No matter how pretty her voice is, that's just wrong. (I actually saw something like this, but it was the groom and he played the guitar. Still wrong though.) Mind you, I worry I won't have a cake I personally care to eat, so the deal I've struck with Coffee is this: no matter what I arrange or do, no one will know but her and she'll know only if she turns to me during the cake-eating segment of our reception and says, "Well?" and I respond either "Mmm-hmmm," or "Unh-hunh." How subtle is that?
For the rest of you, you'll just have to wait for the post-wedding blog report next spring.