Sunday, November 18, 2007

It's My Birthday, Dammit!

Note: The title of the post was the drinking game of the weekend, requiring all in attendence to take a drink whenever the fateful words were uttered. Andrea and I are lucky enough to share a birthday. I was lucky enough to have her remind me - at constant intervals - that I am two AND A HALF hours older. The time: Friday, 8 AM The scene: My house, 7 hours before my girls arrive for the Weekend Birthday Extravaganza Me, to The Professor: "Damn it! It's not enough that I've been cramping for days! Now I can hardly breathe and I'm running a fever! Is it too early to start drinking?" The time: 12:15 PM, 2 hours before arrival The scene: Me cooking and frantically trying to remember if the cats have puked up their breakfast in a noticeable location. Me, to my sis on IM: "You know, I should probably slow down on either the Day-Quil or the caffeine." Sis: "Or have more of both." The time: 3:30 PM The Scene: The Professor and Friend complete a {very sweaty} two mile run and return to the house minutes after The Girls arrive. The Best Friend is due any moment. Me to everyone: "I need a drink." Friday afternoon and evening passed in a wonderful haze of alcohol, laughter, insults and a constant refrain of "Holy Crap, we've known each other for SEVENTEEN YEARS!" followed quickly by A's vodka-infused chorus of "It's my birthday, dammit!" followed by more alcohol, followed by...well, you get the idea. After ten years of hints, pleading, begging, failed attempts and outright bartering, The Best Friend came through with a homemade ice cream cake that makes me wonder why I'm known as The One Who Cooks. Who knew that it would go so well with beer? The Time: 10 AM, Saturday morning The Scene: Breakfast on my back patio, an hour and a half after we've all roused ourselves; we're starting a marathon of card playing. Me, to The Professor: "The OJ and the champagne are in the fridge. We need Mimosas. Now. It's my birthday, dammit!" The Time: 3 PM, Saturday afternoon The Scene: after The Best Friend joins us, we went shopping for a few hours. In the end - after a visit to the liquor store, no less - I insisted on visiting The Scariest Grocery Store in Shelby County to do some bargain wine shopping and labelled it as a "cultural experience". And it's my birthday, dammit. The Result: Four of us ended up spending about $150 on wine, because the prices were too good to resist. Please note that the only reason that only four out of five of us bought wine is because Number Five has an unnatural preference for vodka in all it's odd forms. Including grape flavored. Which is unnatural, but I love her anyway. Even though she is two AND A HALF hours younger. Pictures speak louder than words. The Time: 6 PM, Saturday evening The Scene: My dining room table Activity: I try to excuse my homemade "set your mouth on fire taco seasoning " as an excuse to get through the bucket of margaritas. So that we can start drinking all the other alcohol we bought during the day. The Time: 10 AM, Sunday morning The Scene: My dining room table The atmosphere: Quiet. Very Quiet. Final Tally:
  • Only one of us got vomitously sick from the weekend's indulgences. I'm happy to report that it wasn't me;
  • Several people in the county - who thankfully don't know my name - think that I run around with a pack of alcoholics;
  • I have a huge chunk of ice cream cake in my freezer that reminds me every time I look that The Best Friend does care about my birthday wishes, even if it took her a decade to fulfill the ONE REQUEST I've ever made of her;
  • The realization that because I have friends like these and a husband willing to put up with an entire weekend of female craziness...I'm a very lucky woman.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Happy birthweek Sis!
And where are the pictures damn it?