Monday, September 13, 2004

What I Learned On My Birthday

Well, another birthday, another sweet romantic mushy card from Sweetie Pie. Which once again makes me feel bad that six days ago, I got him a birthday card with a fart joke it it. It was pretty funny, in my defense.

Anyway, looking back on my birthday, and already seriously missing being 28 when I hated being 28 for 365 days, I realize that I've learned a few things this Saturday. And here they are in no particular order.

Lesson #1: I may have Tourette's Syndrome. The good thing about mine is that it only shows itself when I'm very annoyed, aggravated, irked, or pissed off. Which of course, between all of these words, they describe my state of mind about 80 percent of the times. See, on Saturday I went to a bridal shower for a cousin of Sweetie Pie's. I didn't really want to go, which right there makes me sound evil, because the father of this cousin has literally been trying to destroy Sweetie Pie and his dad's company. If this were a movie, he'd be the evil guy who ends up falling of a building at the end of the movie and the audience cheers. But anyway, it's not his daughter's fault that that's her dad, and for Sweetie Pie's grandmother, who's in her late 70s and just wants peace in the family, I decided to go. The woman buys me nice jewelry for Christmas every year, it's the least I can do!

Anyway, I get there with Sweetie Pie's sister right on time (I know, that never happens with me, right?) and we're told by the other guests there that the bride-to-be hasn't arrived yet. Hasn't arrived? At my shower I was ordered to be there half an hour before it started to greet all of my guests. The bride-to-be/spawn of Satan finally shows up almost 40 minutes late for her own shower. Then, there were probably 25-30 people there and hardly any food. I was starving. No breakfast, shower started at 11, we finally got to eat close to noon, I'm ready to eat, right? Well, there's hardly any food! Only four individual items of food cut into very small squares. An anorexic would have begged for seconds!

So then, we all sit around the bride to watch her open her gifts and she acts like we're going to steal them from her. She literally would open the gift boxes, peak into them and then go "Oh, thank you so and so!" The rest of us who didn't buy her that gift were left just thinking that so and so had bought the bride a gift box. Because that's all we could see. And so I was just really pissy by that point. It's like why am I here staring at a bride-to-be looking into boxes? I could be home enjoying my birthday! So finally the bride's mother told her to read the card that she'd written her daughter out loud and my Turrette's kicked in and I yelled "yeah, and show us the presents!"

How loud did I yell? I'm not sure. But it sure sounded very loud in my head. The room didn't go completely silent and the bride started showing us her gifts, so all was well that ends well. Which goes to show, when you have Turrette's Syndrome, you always get your way.

Lesson #2: Talking to your Mother-In-Law naked in the bathtub isn't fun.

People kept calling me to wish me a happy birthday Saturday morning, which is always a nice thing to get. But as I was running late for the bridal shower (see above if you don't know what I'm talking about), I drew myself a bath and decided to have a quick soak before showering. Well, the phone rings as I'm relaxing my weary muscles (I had painted the living room the night before and started again at 6:30 the morning of my birthday) and I answer it. Wouldn't you know it, it's the mother-in-law. Well, as much as I enjoy speaking to her, I felt very dirty doing it naked in the bath. I don't care that video phones aren't common yet and she can't see me. I sure as heck wouldn't want to talk to her while she's in the tub. The funny thing is, I used to talk to people when I was younger while I peed or did number two all the time. I was very good at doing it quietly or my friends were too polite to say anything. Either way, I miss my carefree days of doing anything I wanted while I was on the phone.

Lesson #3: Nothing beats 50 Cents on your birthday.

There's probably nothing whiter than a 29-year old white woman singing "I'm going to party like it's my birthday. We're going to sip Bacardi like it's my birthday" to her tablemates in a sushi restaurant, but hey, I'd had two watermelon martinis that tasted just like jolly ranchers and turned my blood stream into pure vodka in about five minutes flat. And it was fun dang it.

Lesson #4: No 5'3" woman should eat 25 dollars worth of sushi by herself.

And if she does, she'll get automatic stretchmarks on her stomach, have to be rolled out of the restaurant and squeezed through the trunk door of the Jeep. And then she'll intestinally pay a high price later that night.

Lesson #5: Enjoy your current age, because the next birthday feels even worse.

Love,

Catwoman

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