I have made it through my 32nd (ugh) birthday. I had great expectations the entire weekend would be suck-tacular, but I was pleasantly surprised.
Friday gave me a great shopping spree. I bought 2 shirts, a couple of tank tops (for my collection, I think that's 45. I have a disease.)
Saturday was spent at the local arts festival. I ate a hot dog, mini donuts and bought a cool pair of agate earrings. While Janny and Ky looked for purses, I could be found petting every stray dog wandering the street and ogling over every baby. (Do you know how many babies are out there? It's an epidemic, I'm positive.) We stalked a really hot guy we knew in elementary school and otherwise had a blast. I followed the festival with a nice supper out with The Guy who promptly fell asleep by 8:15. (He was on an all day flight from South Carolina, so I guess I can forgive it.)
Sunday - my actual birthday - got me lunch at my favourite restaurant, ice cream at my favourite Milky Way and a three hour nap. Awesome. (That was just a birthday break from the diet - it doesn't count.) Then, my friend's boyfriend (from out of town) dropped by to give me a present they had found for me. After I posted this embarrassing story, they scoured the Earth to find me a replacement. Imagine my surprise when I opened the bag to find "Scott II" waiting for me. I promised my friend I would start to practice my make out techniques once again. Then it was supper with the sisters and hanging out with The Guy before heading to work nights. That's right. I have to work nights on my birthday. The injustice of it all is not lost on me.
But, I made it. I had an awesome time and I'm only a little bit older. However, The Guy now has 25 days left where he can tell everyone he's dating someone 2 years older than him. He'd better enjoy it now.