 Birthday Weekend |
Birthday weekend began on Friday night. My mom fed us her homemade veggie pizza (she makes the dough and everything), shrimp and corn soup (my favorite), and her ice cream cake (in a baking dish -- some magical combination of an oat/nut crust with ice cream and caramel on top, cut into squares for devouring) and we pigged out, and it was fun. The funniest part was finding out that my older brother's new girlfriend with whom he is in LUV was once engaged to a kid I grew up with and whose mom taught all four of us kids and was an inspirational force in all of our lives. (Sadly, she died of cancer in the mid 1990s.) When I mentioned that S. had dated him briefly in college, long story short, it had been when he was engaged to my brother's girlfriend! And she totally knew about some girl he had cheated on her with who went to Georgia who "went out for dinner with him -- and more!" I insisted that S. had not known he was engaged, even saying, "He never even called her again!" The world is just so small. After we all spent a few minutes jumping to S.'s defense, which she assured us was not necessary, we all could not stop laughing about it. You probably had to be there, though. She was a great sport about it and seemed to chalk it all up to bygones. It was worlds colliding to a hilarious degree. Then I was subjected to listening to lots of LSU fight songs from past decades that I could have lived without, but my siblings and dad were getting such a big bang out of it that I tried not to look too bored. My mom read a really pretty reflection that she wrote for the occasion, and some of their cards made me very weepy, and overall, it was a very nice evening and good kickoff of the birthday weekend.
After I went to the gym on Saturday morning, J. called to say he was kidnapping me to take me to brunch with him and his mom because we share a birthday. He took us and his sisters for Mexican food, where I enjoyed a chicken fajita omelet with papas and a biscuit with a mimosa. His family is very silly; we had fun. His mom brought me a pink feather boa and tiara and insisted that I wear it into the restaurant, and who was I to argue? It was a gorgeous day so we sat outside and posed for stupid photos like we always do.
After brunch, my mom and sister and I went to the outlet mall, and my sister and I got sushi take-out that night and rented Under the Tuscan Sun, which exceeded my expectations largely because Diane Lane is so good that she elevates everyone and everything around her. Not to mention that I think I might be somewhat in love with Diane Lane, much as she as Cherry Valance feared she could fall in love with Dallas Winston. (Hopefully I'm through with the Dallas Winstons of the world.) It's such a surprise. It was a lovely movie, and I'm so glad that we rented it. So it was a nice birthday. S. sent me A Tree Grows in Brooklyn which she is flabbergasted that I've never read. M. sent me balloons. My little brother burned two CDs for me from Shim Sham. My siblings gave me a gift card for a massage, my parents gave me money and some placemats and napkins, Jeannie gave me windchimes, Eva gave me a subscription to O Magazine, reader Suzy sent me a generous gift certificate to Amazon, my old friend Anthony sent me a list of our most hilarious high school memories including "the guy who played Enoch Snow singing WAY OFF KEY onstage at a performance of Carousel where you as Carrie Pipperidge mimicked tears but were in fact laughing hysterically on my shoulder," and I got various and sundry cards and emails and phone messages, which was very nice indeed. On Sunday morning, I got up early to make the chocolate chip cream cheese ball for the shower but was obviously half asleep because I used flour instead of powdered sugar and had to run to Albertson's braless and in sweats covered with said flour to purchase more cream cheese. I think I might have even worn my slippers. Nightmare. I also went to slice the butterscotch brownies, but instead of tasting like sex, they tasted like sand. Assy sand. So I threw them away. I think the shower was a success. Note my descent into madness as I kept track of the zillions of gifts:
I shall use perfect penmanship. Jealous Hostess
My ovaries ache. I need a tiny baby Arthur Court bowl and fork OF MY OWN! Constipated Hostess
I fear I shall spontaneously burst into diarrhea upon beholding another onesie. So, I'm 29. Hopefully, like the movie says, I will be surprised by unthinkably good things this year. One can only hope. 
About this time in ...
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