Showing posts with label pillow fight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pillow fight. Show all posts

Monday, January 21, 2008

Best.Birthday.Ever.

I had far too much fun at my slumber party. Probably more fun than a grown woman should legally be allowed to have.

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.
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I made some pretty cupcakes:
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Enough?
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It started off innocently enough:
"Hmmm...do I start with bourbon or wine?"
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Present from Travis. He thought I needed a new gym bag. Inside the gym bag were colorful cigarettes and vaginal wipes. I love him.

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My husband HATES celery. Hates it with a burning passion. This one is for him.
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Who's a Pretty Barbie Birthday Princess? I AM! Thanks to Meghan.
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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.
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No pillow fights, but Rachel got smoochy.
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Phil is mysterious.
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My dogs wanted us to shut the fuck up and go to bed.
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But I made Ichabod play some Wii.
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Full contact Wii.
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Me. 3AM drunk in three parts.

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34 is gonna' be a good year.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

I haven't written much this week...


It's been a slow week around here. And that's OK. That's great, actually.


There's something to be said for quiet.


AND...today is my birthday. I'm 34. How did that happen?


I was at the grocery store getting a few things, including beer, and the cashier asked for my ID. I happily handed it over to her and after she checked the birthday, she gave me a most incredulous look.


"I know," I said, "I can't believe it either."


I'd LIKE to assume she didn't think I looked my true age, but my response was more of a "Holy shit, am I really creeping up on 40?!".


Never fear, gentle readers. I refuse to act my age (whatever acting 34 means...).


Tonight I am celebrating my birthday in a way I haven't in 22 years.


I am having a slumber party. Insert filthy sexual innuendo here. (No, really. Please do. I like that sort of thing).


I was cutting my friend Meghan's hair about a month ago and she asked me what I had planned for my birthday, then suggested I have a slumber party. At first I laughed, but the more I thought about it the more it sounded like a perfect idea.


We had so much liquor left over from the NYE party that I didn't have to get more than a couple of six packs and a few mixers. I've invited my Girls and my Gays, and the party is ON.


Come Sunday (or Monday, depending on my hangover status), I'll be sure to post the photographic evidence of my welcoming of a new chronological age.





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I like stuff and things. I've been married for close to 14 years and have two miniature versions of myself running around (and it frightens me most of the time). I have never been nor will I ever be a vegetarian.