Sometimes it strikes me as odd that we celebrate birthdays. Is anyone else in the same camp? Like, I didn’t actually do anything, I just managed to get born. That’s more my mom’s accomplishment than mine, wouldn’t you say?
But any chance to get dressed up is a good one in my book.
I’ve had good birthdays and bad ones, and I’d definitely put this one in the “good” camp. As with most things in life, it helps to manage expectations. Last year I was really disappointed by my birthday. I’d texted a few friends, sort of last minute, to come out for karaoke, but not only was the bar really crowded with a bunch of other people celebrating their own birthdays, most of the people I invited couldn’t make it. This year, I kept things really low key – a couple of drinks at the bar across the street from my house (there’s a great 20s jazz band that plays there Wednesdays and Sundays, so there are always a number of vintage loving folks that I’m friendly with around on those nights), and then on to dinner at the rather nice restaurant where Brian works.
I’m not a “take photos of my food” kind of person, but I trust you’ll take my word for it that the food was both beautifully presented and delicious. It’s a Michelin star restaurant, and they definitely deserve that star. Unfortunately it seems like I can’t eat the way that I used to, so I only managed a couple of bites of dessert, but I left feeling very full, very happy, and a little drunk. And really, what could be nicer than that?
This weekend I'm flying to North Carolina to see my best friend, so I'm really excited for any adventures that we might have! She lives in a kind of hippy mecca (Asheville), and while I'm far from the crunchy granola type, I'm excited to see her, and visit a place I've never been before.