Old Old McGee

Today is my birthday. I am old. I never thought I would make it to 25. It always seemed like a far out, unattainable age. Ugh. I've attained it. I received two glorious baskets of flowers from my loved ones---Broan and my parents. My mom's flowers leaked all over my desk. And when I told her what kind of flowers they included in the arrangement she screamed, "DAMN... no wonder they cost me an arm and a leg". I received a birthday card in the mail on Saturday from my gma. I also received another card on the same day, but it was signed "from Rosey"--ok--so Rosie (yes, with an ie) is my dog---therefore, I didn't THINK she could write out a card. And on top of that...even if she can write--why did she send it through the mail when we LIVE together. So, either my dog learned to write and use the postal service all in one day...or my 88 year old gma tried to pull a fast one on me and pretended to be my dog writing me a card. Also, to add to her sly ways--she changed her handwriting...she wrote in cursive. I can spot my gma's handwriting a mile a way....the fact that she thought to switch it up as to disguise the author--genius.

Chris took me out on Saturday for my birthday. We went up to this really cute (filthy rich) town and painted pottery. I had mentioned a while ago that we should do it and he said "never". BUT, he was smart and cute and chose this as my birthday surprise. I painted a huge cappuccino mug...he painted a snowman ornament and a mug....he hated both...we are not good painters. We then went to an authentic, family owned Italian Restaurant in the city by the avenue of the arts. All you can drink free wine, minestrone soup, spinach raviolis and a hazlenut mocha cake. Delish. Then we went to the pet store so I could play with all my future dogs. :) A really good night. :)

I think in my next post I'll list the happenings of the entertainment world for today...that way we can all look back and and remember what a racist Michael Richards was on my boirthday.