Monday, March 14, 2005

23.

How old I feel!

I started off my 23rd with a phone call from my mom reminiscing about labor pain and more calories than the USDA recommends in a week, courtesy of IHOP. After a lazy afternoon at Steph's house I had possibly the best mudslide ever created at Brick Alley... followed by the best martini ever created... along with the best dessert ever created. Up total calorie content to 2 weeks worth.

I met two other March 13 babies at O'Briens, the first of which was singing a spirited rendition of "My Way." He was clearly in his 60s at least, and judging by the long mink coats of his lady companions, probably a little bit rich. He hugged and kissed me a lot, and then we took pictures. We promised to meet again next year, same time, same place. I didn't even get his name... [sigh] The second birthday baby was a very nice girl who came out of the bathroom with toilet paper stuck to her shoe. I liked her.

Steph and I sang a rendition of "I Will Survive" that had even Cathy's ex-boyfriend Tim (okay, maybe it was ONLY Cathy's ex-boyfriend Tim) singing along with a fervor. "Shoop" brought the house down, as usual. One of the copy editors here at the paper sang me a Happy Birthday before his gravelly "What a Wonderful World" and he didn't even know that me and Erica's mom both love that song! Like fate!

Surprising to me was how quickly my former Panini Grill crush got old. You all remember him. Blue eyes, blond hair, all "I've been a philosophy major for 6 years" hot. This fella used to be fiiiine and a damn good reason to show up for work, but he was all raggedy and wearing a coat with a fur-lined hood. And ladies and gentlemen, before you comment on my probable hypocrisy, that only works when you're ghetto.

When I'm not on company time I will offer a summary of this eventful weekend unless someone else would like to jump in...

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