It’s my birthday, and I’ll laugh/pout/be lazy/watch a 90210 marathon/drink non-alcoholic champagne if I want to.
Does a birthday qualify as a success if you do all of the above?
I’m going to make an executive decision and just go ahead and say yes.
Yesterday, I went back to the spa that helped make birthday #32 a success, and I got a hugely relaxing massage. (With a special belly cut-out so you could lay on your stomach. Why aren’t these sold for home use?)
I’m pretty sure that I annoyed the other woman lounging in the spa’s waiting area with my uncontrollable laughter while reading the Bloggess’ memoir. Which was topped only by my laughter later in the day when Jenny Lawson actually read that chapter aloud at the Gaithersburg Book Festival. (I won’t go into details here, but let’s just say the chapter involved a possible Ex-Lax overdose and her cat passing her notes under a door.)
(More to come soon on a great piece of blogging advice that she gave during her speech. But here’s a picture of Copernicus, her homicidal monkey, to tide you over:
Yesterday involved laughter and relaxation. Today started with the 90210 marathon and pouting. (Never fear, the two were not related — after all, what could be wrong with several back-to-back episodes from the Kelly-Dylan-Brenda love triangle era?)
Instead, I was pouting because I knew my birthday wouldn’t involve the treats it usually does. I found out this week that I likely have gallstones. The treatment: A super low-fat, high-fiber, dairy-free diet. As you may remember from my many days and weeks of complaining through the low-iodine diet two years ago, I’m not a good dieter. I’m particularly bad when I’m not allowed chocolate or cheese. (Neither of which, as you may gather, feature prominently in the low-fat, high-fiber, dairy-free diet.)
So, I’ve been a lot of fun to be around for the past week or so … and my attitude didn’t exactly improve when I woke up this morning thinking about not having munchkins for breakfast, or chocolate cake topped with chocolate chip ice cream for dessert. Instead, I needed to go food shopping for vegetables and superfoods like quinoa and edamame. Yup, there was pouting. (Thankfully for his sake, B was at work for most of the morning. Being at work has to be better than being around me in a pouty mood.)
I went to the store and dutifully bought my low-fat, high-fiber foods. But then I found dairy-free chocolate sorbet that I could top the angel food cake Erin had generously made for me with, and some non-alcoholic champagne. Things started to look up.
I came home and made a low-fat, almost-dairy-free chicken salad for lunch tomorrow, and we grilled scallops for dinner. B gave “me” a onesie with pictures of beagles on it. We popped the cork on the faux champagne and toasted to another year. I blew out the candles on my angel food cake.
And then the Player to be Named Later did a backflip.
Backflips trump gallstones. So yeah, I’d say this birthday was a success.