Thirty-seven is awesome!!
I have a whole blog post swirling around in my teeny, tiny brain...but I'm too tired to commit to it and really do it justice. And if I wait until later, well, the glow of birthday goodness will have faded back into ordinary everythingness. So here are the highlights:
Lunch with The Ronnings at Pagoda in Dinkytown.
What started out as a lovely lunch and a quiet little gift-opening with my adorable parents, culminated in the restaurant going dramatically dark, disco lights racing around the ceiling, and "Happy Birthday" (American version...but sung in what I believe was Chinese) blaring from the very impressive sound system. Because we Ronnings are no dummies, it didn't take us long to figure out this had something to do with me. Everyone else in the "quite-busy-because-it's-lunch-time" restaurant also figured it out as our waiter made his way toward me carrying a candle-laden sundae. There was applause and embarrassment and gratitude. I loved it all.
PS - This particular Pan-Asian restaurant serves their birthday sundaes on crushed ice. Dad and I were remarking how we really appreciated this, as the ice cream stayed perfectly cold right up to the very last bite. We looked at each other and simultaneously mused, "This is why the Chinese are kicking our asses." Because what's a birthday lunch without a little geopolitical commentary?
While cards and phone calls are old-school and lovely, being able to scroll through my Facebook wall periodically throughout the day provided so much joy. You guys are the best! I know it's the easiest of greetings...and I know Facebook does the reminding for us, but I still love it. The little red notification box kept lighting up...you guys kept sending your love. It was pervasive and persistent and perfect. A day full of e-love...I couldn't have appreciated anything more.
Except for this:
told you how much I [absolutely heart] Austin Hartley-Leonard? Well, my super-fantastic husband Twitter-stalked (Tweet-stalked?) this favorite singer-songwriter of mine...and then this showed up on Facebook. I have now been serenaded by a bona fide rock star! [Faints] Seriously people, this guy is talented (and kind!)...go buy his music.
Lots and lots of people say they don't need presents. I am not one of those people. I like the presents. A lot. I don't expect them, and I'm not (necessarily) sad if I don't get them. But when I do......gosh do I love presents. :)
What do women want when they turn 37? Me? I want: This. And this. And one of these. And a bunch of these. The best part of it all is when your family knows you so well, you don't even really have to ask for any of it. Gosh, do I unabashedly, unashamedly love presents.
|Thirty-seven. Thirty-seven is the age when you are excited to get a mutha-effin' TRIPLE CROCK-POT!|
Dinner with My Sweet Jay at Mancini's in St. Paul
This St. Paul institution has resided on West 7th Street since 1948...and until today, I'd never been there. For shame. A total blast from the past, what with the U-shaped, squashy, red leather booths, and the ice-berg lettuce salads, and the char-broiled steaks that will make you weep...this was exactly the birthday dinner I was dreaming of.
|New necklace, courtesy of The Ronnings|
|White cake with white frosting!?! It's like they planned it all just for me!|
It truly was a beautiful day...glowing with birthday goodness. But I think the thing that made today so very special was the ordinary everythingness of it all.
Except for the disco lights, it was every wonderful lunch I've ever had with Mom and Dad. Except for the gluttonous influx of wall posts (and being sung to by a real rock star!), it was every delightful Facebook conversation I've ever had with any and all of you. Except for the fancy wrapping paper, it was every whimsical, practical, ridiculous thing I've ever picked out just because. Except for the cake (and the lobster tail, I suppose), it was every hilarious, idiotic night Jay and I have ever had out and about in this city we love so very, very much.
Brian Andreas says it best:
Time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life.
Thank you all for a perfectly ordinary, perfectly exceptional day.