My Birthday Thus Far ...
I dreamt about Hugh Laurie last night. Happy birthday to me! I love me some Hugh Laurie. He was the House Hugh Laurie in my dream, being a bit of a jerk, but he softened as the dream wore on. Women like to think we can change men, help mold them into more respectable citizens. At least we have a shot at it in our collective subconscious.
I woke up and sang "Happy Birthday" to myself. Repeatedly. I found myself very amusing.
Jeff (oh, geez, I need modifiers for my Jeffs now; um, he'll be Journal Jeff, until he leaves the Wall Street Journal, then I'll come up with another nickname for him) called me to sing but he opted for the Beatles' birthday song. He yelled into the other room, "Sherry! It's Beth's 138th birthday!" And then, as we were hanging up, he wished a happy birthday and a 100 more. Let's hope so. Though I may have to become a cyborg to reach that milestone.
Patty called and sang the traditional "Happy Birthday" song, as did L.A. Dave. And plenty of people popped up in IM and e-mail. Always nice to be remembered. Patty also sent an iTunes gift certificate. We have a birthday tradition which is that I get my birthday gift when she ships the Christmas gifts. So the iTunes is to tide me over.
Mom came over for breakfast, bagels and coffee. She made veggie cream cheese for me. And we had little breakfast sausages from her butcher shop. They're fabulous.
My on-my-birthday birthday gift from my mom and dad is a santoku knife. Once I wrested it out of its plastic packaging prison, I said, "I have to chop something!" So I hauled out a cutting board and swiped a carrot out of the fridge and sliced it up. I love my new knife!
Mom went on her way and I hopped in the shower and proceeded to produce rather fabulous hair. Last year, my hair was an utter pain in the ass, so I was very pleased that it decided to behave this year. So much so that I took a picture of it, figuring that was the best it was going to look all day. Also, this better captures the color that J-D applied last week.
I arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before my friends. (Every year, I pick a different restaurant and round up a group of pals for lunch.) A few years ago, I struck on the rather brilliant idea of making an annual CD. I add their names and a note to the "cover" of each CD to create a hybrid placecard/party favor. Nifty, no? I'll write a separate post about this year's CD selections. For anyone bristling at the thought of giving away music, it's all music I own, and I figure, it's actually a good thing for the artists involved, because it gives all of my friends a sampler of artists they may have never heard of, and if they like what they hear, they can go buy the albums. (Cheryl couldn't make it today, hence why I still have her CD of which to take a picture.)
"Lunch, The Food" was OK. Nothing extraordinary. But "Lunch, The People" was a hoot. A very good group, though, of course, I have a good group every year, because they're all my friends. In the picture below, from left to right, we have Mike (marketing/writing genius), me, J-D (my hair architect and novelist/playwright), Angela (bestselling novelist-in-waiting), Doreen (accounting mangager by day, massage therapist/BodyTalk practitioner the rest of the time), Jeff (IT analyst by day, brilliant photographer the rest of the time), and Brian (real estate mogul, infinitely more interesting than Donald Trump).
Sadly, I arrived home to find no birthday cards in my mailbox, but I've already received a couple, and hey, I got a card from my insurance agent wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving!
Next up, dinner with my parents then the rest of my birthday cake.
Update: There's not a whole lot to add to the birthday story, so instead of an entire, separate post, I'll just tack on an update and call it a night. Had dinner at a favorite Italian place with my parents, but it was one of those nights when I couldn't decide what I wanted. The thing that most appealed to me was the bistecca, an herb-rubbed filet topped with roasted garlic and mushrooms, but I thought red meat wasn't the best choice. So I ended up starting with a pizza topped with gorgonzola and pine nuts and spinach, of which I ate exactly one piece, cut another piece in half so my parents could each have a taste, and had the other two pieces wrapped. The cheese-stuffed chicken would have been better if it had been what I really wanted. But my red zinfandel was yummy. And my mom's braised lamb was yummy. (Why I don't just order that every time, I don't know.) We all came back to my house for a bit of cake and I still have a little piece to have with coffee in the morning. I didn't end up watching House but that's OK, as I got to see Hugh last night in my dreams. I spent the evening writing about my birthday CD, and now I'm heading to bed. Thanks to everyone for their birthday cards and comments and e-mails and IMs. It's been a good day.