I don't really find myself wanting to celebrate my birthday this year, not that I ever have after I graduated high school, but with all the hub bub these past few years, I kind of lost the motivation to be like HELLO! HI! BIRTHDAY GIRL OVER HERE!
Despite becoming another year older, I still feel exactly the same... meh I lied, my right knee hurts a little more and there's this splotchy color of skin that just showed up. I swear to myself it's a curse or sign that I'm withering away to dust (outside from my hypochondriacal ways, I'm sure I am fine)!
I was thankful to have a few meet with me throughout the day to grab a bite and jibber jabber. I always end up being the last one to finish, mostly because I'm the one doing most of the yapping (typical). Good thing I love food, because I'll eat it hot or cold; it's all going to the same place.
I was happy to share breakfast at the ever so hoity-toity, Oxford Exchange, with one of my favorites, Sammy, and her delightful, busty mother (and yes I meant busty). She was my Italian Mama dream! I giggled inside every time I heard a Little Italy - New Yorker twang. It was lovely to share stories and carry on about how we don't really know what direction we're going, just happy that school is over (at least for Sam, I was a knuckle head and went back for round three). I think one of my favorite moments was gathering in the bathroom together, like most females do, and then walking out of the restroom to see Sam's mom taking cell phone photos of us getting out the stalls.
I always struggle to get something healthy for myself for brekky so I, without hesitation, looked for pancakes or any form of sugary tasties for my belly. Sadly they changed the menu, but our awkward waiter introduced me to the "must-have" Red Velvet Pancakes. And Sam, my love, you half win. If you're reading this, No, red velvet is not chocolate cake, but Yes, there are hints of chocolate flavoring. Click here for your slice of history.
After work, I scurried over to meet with Kelsey and Jay, who joined us a bit later, for yet another helping of food (UH shrimp tacos for the record) and a quick drink. Despite the group of German men puffing their cigars in my french fries, it was comforting finding another moment to relax, eat, and gossip (manly gossip, if that's a thing... sorry Jay, I tried). I didn't realize how loud we were until I decided to cut the cord on the evening and scan the faces of grumpy geezers. I look at World of Beer (WOB) as an Americanized, European pub; you're there to enjoy your drink not slam it like the looney college kids that stumble to MacDinton's before, during, and after their happy hours. And granted we weren't their slamming drinks (at least mine was warm before I reached the inward curve of the stein glass), we were a bit rowdy with bullshitting, hollering about our clients, and making fun of ourselves. But the one thing I left with that evening, that I found more educational than anything else, was that Kelsey told me a group of bunnies were called "fluffles." Not sure if that's official because Google keeps autocorrecting to the most obscure words, but I'll accept it for now.
Before midnight hits and my title for this journal becomes irrelevant, I'll make sure to close out properly.
The moral of the story is: If you decide to eat all day, always remember to wear higher waisted jeans to perform the "tummy tuck." Also known as shoving your pooch under the lining of your jeans so people can't see how much you really ever ate, and how guilty you became after ordering another round of fries (which are also for the record of being just as delicious as the shrimp tacos) (I lied, the tacos are still number 1).
On a serious note, I thought to myself about how the older we get, the better we are at our choices to do things that make us happy. Outside from the business of the week, I was happy I took the time to see the handful of you, because it's those few moments I rarely get to have, but end up meaning so much more.