No, fuck that. I did deserve it. And my wonderful friends deserved a night of drunken revelrie as well.
Photographic proof of our night. LOTS o' pictures.
Flowers from my husband before he got the hell outta' Dodge.

I made some pretty cupcakes:

Enough?

It started off innocently enough:
"Hmmm...do I start with bourbon or wine?"





Present from Travis. He thought I needed a new gym bag. Inside the gym bag were colorful cigarettes and vaginal wipes. I love him.

My husband HATES celery. Hates it with a burning passion. This one is for him.

Who's a Pretty Barbie Birthday Princess? I AM! Thanks to Meghan.

Things went downhill (in a good way) quickly. Soon we were drunk.
Apparently I thought something we really fucking hilarious. I wish I could remember what it was.


No pillow fights, but Rachel got smoochy.





Phil is mysterious.

My dogs wanted us to shut the fuck up and go to bed.

But I made Ichabod play some Wii.

Full contact Wii.


Me. 3AM drunk in three parts.



34 is gonna' be a good year.

