I would like to thank everyone who made my birthday so lovely, for ignoring my variety of attempts to downplay my day. It usually surprises people that I don't make a big deal out of my birthday, since I talk a lot (perhaps you noticed) and I like to tell everyone everything that's going on (perhaps you noticed). I just don't like to throw out my princess day to everyone, everywhere,** because I don't want anyone to feel like they have to make a big deal out of me, just because I said so. However, it is perfectly acceptable for me to rub the tiara of my Annual Princess Day all over Lawyer Boy, because he signed up for a lifetime of my ridiculous antics when he said I do. And no, I did not make him. I just told him what to wear and where to wear it and what to say and when to say it, is all.
LB had gotten me my big birthday present, a pink vintage bicycle, a few months ago. I wanted a bike so I could show the whole Greater Richmond Metropolitan Area what an unrepentant dork I am by riding my bike to the grocery store, shiny purple helmet complementing the shiny pink paint on my trusty steed. However, the bike didn't come with a basket, so until this morning, when I unwrapped my present, I looked like this gentleman, trying to cart all my necessities back from Kroger:
Clearly my hair has more volume than his, but the idea is the same. Now I have a basket, which magically compresses my 14 refrigerator boxes full of strawberries and organic milk into a compact load. I feel so much safer traveling now!Thanks to the firm-wide birthday list, my coworkers knew it was my birthday, and they came out in full force. Particular thanks are in order to Ghost Baker's mom, for the cupcake-art birthday card, Sharon for the alarmingly abundant amount of fresh-baked doughnuts, and Melissa for the pan of gooey, underbaked brownies. (Please note that Melissa is apparently my only friend who is not a hyperlink.) I would also like to thank my boss for walking into my office at 9am and groaning his way through "Happy Birthday," in its entirety, by way of celebration. That is far and away a much better present than letting me leave an hour (or seven) early on my princess day. Totes.
Mom and Dad came over to hug me in celebration of the fact that they spawned me, and to give me my present, which I will tell you about tomorrow, when it will make much more sense. Suffice to say that it is a further extension of my personal rampant dorkery. While they were here we drank wine, stood in my backyard, and freely donated our blood to the local mosquito population. We're so kind.
My birthday dinner was crunchy beef tacos, which LB was more than happy to produce as a surprise for me. I've eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world, I make up my own recipes, and I've even single-handedly catered several events, but few things make me happier than the results of an Old El Paso Taco Dinner Kit. I can't explain it; it's just happiness in a crispy browned shell. Add to that a glass of wine, a cup of ice cream, and the man I love, and that's a recipe for birthday bliss.
I will fill you in on more birthday festivities tomorrow, after the big family celebration at my grandmother's. For now I am too sleepy and happily relaxed to do much more than curl up with the cat, the man, and a glass of Zinfandel. Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who made my birthday so wonderful.
And for those of you who haven't yet found a way to celebrate me--now is an excellent time to start. You still have a few hours till midnight.
*Sidebar to 540-956-2345: You never returned my voicemail.
**Apparently I had forgotten that Facebook reminds everyone, including the unborn and the socially dysfunctional, of the anniversary of my debut.
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