Normally I don't believe in birth"days" but rather embrace the idea of the birth"week". This past birthday though I would have preferred nobody knowing. I spent the day driving to the coast with some friends (which of course meant everyone knew it was my birthday). Everything, except getting carsick and a headache, was delightful--from having breakfast with my mom and sister; playing with an adorable toddler before his parents were ready to leave him; lunch at Chipotle which I didn't even know exsisted in Oregon; arriving at the beach house and just relaxing; and Tom Yum Kai for dinner reminiscent of a past birthday spent in Thailand. It was a trip of introspection however as, like I said, I was not happy about it being my birthday--for the first time in my life.
And then I got my present. A beautiful glass pitcher with glasses to match wrapped in bright tissue paper and nestled in a white basket, all specially chosen by my friends knowing that I love having people over. The real gift came in the card though. A friend wrote that she hopes I have a year worth writing a book about. (Actually two friends wrote that which ended up making everyone laugh when we found out one friend copied!) She has reiterated numerous times since then that I should start a blog. Which, of course, I have now done.
So, here's to the beginning of a year worthy of writing a book about.
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