The Birthday

So, the dreaded birthday came and went and I didn't have any major breakdowns. I claimed to boycott it until I woke up on Friday, October 12 and ran out to the living room to rip open my presents like a 13 year old boy (ah, only one of the numerous ways in which I am like a 13 year old boy, truly).

I could not have asked for a sweeter Craptastic birthday. The night before the big day, E picked me up from work in a white stretch limousine. There were hits of the 80s. And twinkly lights. And champagne. It was prom all over again, which rocked, since I never went to to the prom. And never rode in a limo.


On Friday, my work friends took me to my favorite Turkish restaurant for lunch. My co-workers (my co-workers!!) threw me a surprise party with a gigantic cookie-cake emblazoned with red and yellow frosting. I cannot overemphasize the bizarre wonderfulness of this - I work with corporate lawyers, people. I was completely surprised and kind of embarrassed for the stuffy old partners eating their frosting covered chocolate chip cookies with plastic forks.

But damn it was cute.

Then E and I went to the Berkshires with my brother and his lovely girlfriend. Our arrival was met with a "balloon-kitchen surprise party," which was as merry as its name implies. The lovely girlfriend had created a poster that will go down in history as the best poster ever created. I'll post a picture of it. And you will gasp for the cuteness of it.

As birthdays tend to do, mine extended into Saturday. The weather could not have been more Northeasternly Fall gorgeous. And. Saturday morning, I walked outside to get some firewood and was met with the glorious sight in the above picture.

An original. 1981. Schwinn Stingray.

A gift from my awesome family. (The only thing that made this present more perfect was the image of my 6'2" brother riding it over the Williamsburg bridge - his only means of getting it home).

Dope.