In which there’s a party.
My friend Embo had a birthday yesterday. We took balloons and cupcakes to the bar and got drunk.
It was fun. Pictures are here.
In which I bought treeware.
For my birthday, I quit smoking.
On my lunch hour, instead of smoking I went into the bookstore and bought myself The Eyre Affair, a book I’ve been meaning to read since it came out eight years ago.
I mean, what the hell, right? It is my birthday, after all, and at least in this format G’ma can read it when I’m done.
Then, still wanting something – namely nicotine, which I was not having – I went into Starbucks for a hot chocolate. And they gave it to me for free, since it’s my birthday! Cool, huh?
In other super awesome news, dad’s taking me (and my brother) out for a birthday dinner to T. Mac’s after work tonight. How lucky am I?
In which I am TOTALLY not worthy!
Kaje and I had Big Plans for last night. We were going to make epic tostadas with all the fixings! and watch two (or even three!) entire episodes of Doctor Who. But someone – either Netflix or the post office – screwed up royally, and the disc I was expecting to find in my mail box was received back by Netflix instead.
In a fit of disappointment, we went to Kelly’s in Milton-Freewater and consoled ourselves with cocktails and a big ol’ pile of fried food. (And some green beans!)
When I got home after our excursion, I found a box on the stairs to my room. I carried it up, tossed it on my bed, and got out of my coat and scarf. Then I sat on my bed to examine this unanticipated package.
It was from NLW… and… you’re totally not gonna believe this…
IT HAD A CUNNING JAYNE HAT* IN IT!!!
The card says, “Happy belated birthday! I still don’t think it’s fun to give the presents when people expect them.” Naturally, even though it was midnight at her house, I texted her AND sent her a picture immediately. Because, I mean, hell: she sent me a Jayne Hat and I totally *heart* her.
* Fans of Joss Whedon’s Firefly are rabid, and there are lots of freaks out there running around in Jayne hats.
And here’s Baldwin singing the Hero song.
In which I’ll be in Vegas in twenty-four hours!
I’m certain I’m over-packing because it’s in the 70’s here. It’ll be in the 90’s in Vegas; of course we’ll probably spend a lot of time indoors and that’ll be air-conditioned, but I brought pants and long-sleeved shirts and in spite of the sun dresses I packed will probably end up buying a tank top somewhere anyway.
All of my shoes suck. I am so serious. I don’t own even a single pair of cute shoes. I might have to fix that in Vegas. Since I don’t really gamble I’ll need to blow my cash somehow. Wouldn’t want to come home with money, now would I?
Facebook fucking rules. Through it, I got Adam and Mona’s numbers – even texted with them both last night! – and Mr. Appel’s as well, and will hopefully be seeing some of the old Fairfield contingent during my stay there.
Monday is my 40th birthday. My life will be roughly half over, but I expect to be having an auspiciously hella good time when that little landmark is passed. (Teh BF says he bought me a present, but won’t tell me what it is and says I can’t have it ’til we get back.) I want to go out for sushi. Yum, sushi!
We’ll be packing my laptop along, so there will be updates on both our sites; hopefully the trip doesn’t finish loosening the panel ribbon from the motherboard and find me hauling around a useless bit of electronics. Even if the worst happens there’s Twitter and Flickr so you’ll know where I am.
I am so excited I could freakin’ pop, I tell you! Whoohoo! Vegas!
In which there’s a box in my box!
Yesterday on my lunch break I went to the post office to check my post office box, and there was a ticket that said, ‘Parcel too large for box.’
I stood in line and the hawt red-headed postal guy took the ticket and in return gave me a box from Amazon.com. I came back to the office and busted into the package, and it was this:
Diamond Dogs! Bowie! From Southern Expressions, who is SUPERIOR IN ALL WAYS! (Well, except for the way in which he lives somewhere warm so there’s no need for me to knit him a hat. I’ve been trying to think of something to knit him for a couple of years, but knit things and warm climates don’t really go together.)
Thank you, Brad! *smooch*