Hello ladies and Hevel 🙂
This past weekend was my 35th (cringe) birthday. Now some people celebrate birthdays, some don’t. Some enjoy people fawning over them, some couldn’t give a shit. Personally, I fall in the middle. I don’t expect a giant ass surprise party or a party at all, but it means the world to me when my friends and family let me know how loved I am and that they’re glad I was born. A cake. A bouquet of flowers. A card. A $400,000 CFD house with a balloon payment in 8 months. You know…the norm. But this birthday stung a little bit. Some of you may think I’m selfish and blowing this out of proportion. That is fine, and you are entitled to your opinion. What happened though did hurt my feelings, and I spent most of Friday night vacillating between crying and anger (with some PMS thrown in).
I have few friends out here. Most were travel nurses who have since moved on to other states. I have a fellow MWOP friend who is about 8 months pregnant, so I had a feeling she didn’t want a girls night out. I turned to my best friend here in Arizona. She lives in Mesa, which is a suburb of Phoenix. Given that we lives 120 miles apart, visits are few and far between. I called her my Mormon counterpart because she is exactly like me except she is Mormon: a foul sense of humor, cusses like a sailor, drinks, goes to clubs, etc. I emailed her last Monday asking if she wanted to do a girls night out on Saturday, and she and her son (who is Footlong’s best friend) could spend the night. She sent me an emphatic YES!!!! We planned dinner at our favorite restaurant, I bought a new outfit, we planned to go shopping, and then to TDs which is….um….a gentlemen’s club, and then back home for cake and cocktails at midnight. One thing that Deena is famous for is cancelling at the last minute , and usually with shitty excuses. She’ll then post on FB photos showing her doing something completely different. I emailed her Friday to ask what time she was coming Saturday, and her response, “Oh, yeah, I, um, forgot that I was supposed to go to a church dinner.” Really? I find that hard to believe because she keeps a calendar in her kitchen with all per plans. I was devastated, hurt, angry, and made a big stink on FB. One of my fellow MWOP friends, M, called me out on how nasty I was (thank you, M, perhaps I was too nasty), but I had been looking forward to a girls night out all week. We can’t leave 6-inch with a babysitter or take him in public places because of his sensory issues (tantrums, head banging, etc).
I spent Friday night holed up in my chic cave (men have a man cave, I have a chic cave) with some pinot noir and episodes of Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix. I came out about 11:00 pm and found that John and Footlong had baked and decorated two dozen cupcakes (which, sadly, I couldn’t eat because of all the sugar and how sick it would make me), I had a bouquet of balloons, a special balloon that Footlong picked out, a bouquet of carnations from my parents, and 6-inch picked out one of those little balloons that come on a plastic stick. I cried. I was so touched because John has NEVER done anything for me on my birthday other than saying “Happy Birthday.” I got THREE triple-wrap LaMer watches: tan, royal blue, and aqua. The tan and royal blue have chains and jewels, the aqua is just a plan wrap. Here is a photo of the blue one:
They are designer watches, and LaMer has designed a line just for Target. You can also visit their website to choose more colors, options for chain/jewelry, or design your own watch. I love them!
And, for shits and giggles, I got my hair colored again. The very first one of you that makes a MckHair joke I am going to boil you in coconut oil, sprinkle you with flax seeds, and feed you to the bunnies/cats/kittens/Roobii/Chib, Chub, and Daisy, and all the tutu-ed goats I can get my hands on.