8 Day Celebration!

Last Friday I started off what may be my longest birthday celebration in all of my 36 years.  We went out, in style, with a group of friends to a Forever 27 Tribute show.  The bands featured all paid tribute to a singer who died when they were 27…Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix and Jim Morrison.

Me and “Jim” or as Ryan and I called him, “Lil Jim”.  I think I could have fit him my purse and took him home.

I got to play the role of groupie that night with my friend, Patty too.

I wanted to stand on the other side of the sign for the picture, but I was afraid of getting kicked out.

After a day of recovery, I celebrated my actual birthday.  It was fairly low key, as I tend to like to lay around and relax on my birthday.  I allow myself the same thing as I allow my children on their birthdays – I get to eat whatever I want all day long.  That’s really not any different from any other day, but I try not to eat a brunch of corned beef hash and eggs and then turn around and eat fried chicken later that day.

I took a couple of days off and then went in with both guns blazing for a pirate themed karaoke night last night.  Apparently, when you frequent a bar every Wednesday night for months on end, they decorate and reserve a couple of tables for you and your friends, give you free drinks and tolerate all of your shenanigans.

Aaaaaarrrrrrrrg!  Eva, Jessica, Patty and me.

And if you are really lucky, you get homemade s’mores cupcakes.

Megan makes delicious cupcakes…these had a layer of graham cracker on the bottom.

I’m taking another couple of days to recover before I finally end my 8 day celebration on Saturday with one last night out with my boob group friends.  I have never stretched out a birthday for longer than a day or two and the unfortunate thing is that I should have been having these week long fiestas about 15 years ago when recovery days were more of an inconvenient break in fun, rather than mandatory days of rest.

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday To Me!

One of my favorite sites to send ecards through is someecards.com.  It’s actually the only site I use to send ecards.  There are cards for absolutely every holiday, no matter how seemingly insignificant, as well as about any possible scenario that a person could experience.

I found one for myself.The runner up, or silver medalist, if you will, was this one.Let me clarify.  I don’t usually send FB birthday greetings to people unless I have something other to say than “Happy Birthday”.  If I can find a good ecard that I think is appropriate, then yes, I will post that on your wall.  But I used to think it would be a little insignificant to just say “Happy Birthday”.  Then for some reason, this year my thoughts on this changed.  I read every single post on my FB page and found myself thinking, Oh that was nice of so and so to wish me a happy birthday.  We all like to have other think about us, right?  I’m still going to try and find a fitting ecard, but if I can’t find one, I’m going to wish you a happy birthday anyway.

Now for the card that my dad sent me.  It was from my mom and dad actually, but my mom wanted it known that she didn’t pick it out – not that I really considered that notion.  My dad told me he was crying in the card aisle, actually doubled over with tears streaming down his face.

If you are a new follower, you can check out the cards I made for my dad’s last two birthdays here and here.  Before I show you what he sent me, he claims he doesn’t have access to children like I do, but he does have access to old people and Hey, I guess they’re right. Senior citizens, although slow and dangerous behind the wheel, can still serve a purpose. (That’s from Dumb and Dumber – if you didn’t know.)

Here were the birthday wishes I got from my parents:

 

 

Spa Day!

Each year my friend, Rochelle (b-day 7/1) and I (b-day 7/29) schedule a spa day to celebrate our July birthdays.  Massages, facials, manis, pedis and the occasional waxing are scheduled and then followed with a lunch and drinks to repollute our bodies with all of the toxins that were steamed, scrubbed and scraped off.

This year, I wanted to try a microdermabrasion treatment.  I have gotten facials in the past, but now that I’m closer to 40 than I am to 30, I thought I better up the power and take off a couple of layers of skin from my face.  Before the esthetician started the procedure, she warned me that it wasn’t a relaxing procedure.  I assured her that it was OK because I had a massage scheduled right after.  She made a couple of other somewhat discouraging comments and I started to think I may have made a horrible mistake.

Looking back on it, I told her that I was turning 36 in a week and I wanted her to make me look 26.  I was kidding, but maybe she didn’t get my joke and didn’t want me to have too high of expectations.  Well, the joke’s on her because I can see a HUGE difference!  I highly recommend microdermabrasion and I’ll definitely be doing another in the future.  I told her she completely undersold the treatment and there were actually parts of it that were relaxing.

I asked Ryan if he could tell the difference and like a good husband, he said, “Yeah.”  But he had a weird smile on his face and I know that smile means I’m only saying that because that is what you want me to say and I don’t want to be a dick.  I kept pushing and then he said, “Do you have make-up on?”  I told him I didn’t.  He replied, “Your face looks like it does when you have make-up on.”  Sah-weeet!

After my microdermabrasion, I relaxed while Rochelle finished up her massage since we were using the same masseuse.  Last year, the masseuse that did our massages was not good.  Before he started the massage he said if he did anything I didn’t like to tell him.  Well, that’s great, but I’m supposed to be relaxing and possibly drifting off to sleep – not telling you that I don’t like the karate chopping motion you are doing on my back.  Yes, he actually did the chopping.

Rochelle walked out after her massage and had an “Oh. My. God.”  look on her face.  In the good way.  She said the massage was fabulous.  I was getting pretty excited since I get a massage oh, let’s see…once a year.

Well, Rochelle was right.  It was one of the best massages I have ever had.  I’m pretty sure I walked out after with the same expression on my face that Rochelle had.  There was just enough pressure and the right areas were focused on more than others.  The best part was when she was massaging my hands.  Yes, my hands.  I could have laid there forever with her kneading my palms.

Once all of our treatments were finished, we headed over to a nearby pub close to the beach to rehydrate.  Ryan and the kids were supposed to meet us for a late lunch, but no kids were allowed in the bar so we had to pack it up and head to another place.

We ended up eating huge burritos, chimichangas and the biggest tostada I have ever seen.  It was a nice way to wind down after a morning of relaxation.  My car was still at Rochelle’s house so I sent Ryan and the kids on their way and went to pick up my car.

I was driving my 2001 Civic – a car that I rarely drive anymore, but it’s so much fun to drive.  It has a manual transmission so I feel like I’m driving a race car, especially after hauling around in a big SUV all the time.  I’m low to the ground and I can dart in and out of traffic.  Right now the air conditioning doesn’t blow any cold air so I was driving with the windows down.  If anyone was heading north on the 15 this afternoon and you heard someone screeching out the lyrics to Purple Rain…that was me.

I was happily driving along, had a fully belly, my muscles were all nice and relaxed.  I was feeling good.  And then, the text message:

That lady is still in your spot.  If she is still there when u get here, she left a note to call her to move it.  Rory puked on the drive home…Kamryn and I were both gagging.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuudddddddggggge.

Ryan told a woman who was waiting for a visitor’s spot that she could park in one of our spots for a couple of hours before he left.  When I got home, her car was still there.  I called the number on the windshield and she came right out, told me how nice my husband was for letting her park there and then moved her car.

Once I got inside, Rory ran to tell me he threw up.  Ryan said he was waiting for me to get home before he cleaned it up, but I knew if he did it and then I went out and smelled puke the next time I got in the car, I was going to be pissed so I did it myself.  Now if it still smells like puke, I only have myself to blame.  It wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be, but my relaxation buzz was starting to wear off.

A little while later, Kamryn came out of the bathroom and told me that Rory peed on her leg.  He was sidling right along next to her and when I asked him why he did that he said, in Rory speak, “A-cause I haffa go pee and Sissy on dere.”  Translation:  I had to pee and thought it would be funny to pee on my sister instead of going to the other bathroom to relieve myself.  Kamryn declared that it itched and was hot.  Uh, yeah…it’s urine, go wash it off.

Not long after the peeing incident, Rory spit on his sister.  Ryan escorted him to his room where he stayed for a whole 2 minutes before coming out, administered his apologetic hug to his sister and I talked to him about the rights and wrongs of spitting.

And finally, once again, Rory has been sent to his room for not listening.

Rory = 4

Relaxation = -1,845,295

UPDATE:

Being a pain in the butt really wears a boy out.