516 months

Yesterday was my birthday! (I thought about taking a monthly picture, but no one was home to take it when it was still light outside, but that’d have been funny, eh? Darn, missed opportunity there.)

Anyway, even though this year I was at home and not gallivanting around the world in, say, San Francisco or Barcelona, I had a great birthday. In fact, one of the better ones, I’d say. It wasn’t particularly eventful, but just overall a lovely day. Well, except for the weather. I’d appreciate a sunny birthday more often, but sadly, January is gray and yucky too often to hope for that.

It started out with waking up with the boys and bringing them to the bus stop so I could see Ann Frances (my birthday buddy, you know.) Then I went to Orangetheory and thought at one point in the workout that it might end up that I would last exactly 43 years on this planet, but alas, I survived the workout. Stopped at a neighborhood coffee shop for a hot beverage and a pastry (apple turnover) and then went home to chill for a bit. (I took the day off work.)

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January 9 buddies

Kiki had sent me a pile of presents, and I wanted to spread them out throughout the day. So I opened one – a White House Christmas ornament. Earlier I’d opened one that had some face masks and cream in it.

I got on the ferry a little while later and met up with Heather and Steph for a fancy lunch at Antoine’s, one of those old traditional New Orleans restaurants in the French Quarter. (The oldest, in fact, having been around since 1840.) It was lovely, even if the service wasn’t the greatest. Then again, our waiter had been there for 50 years, and so what if he kept bringing me screwdrivers when I asked for martinis? (Part of the lunch special is 25 cent cocktails.) Anyway, I’d have been on the floor if I’d had three martinis, so perhaps he knew best.

After a delicious lunch of oysters, steak, and a meringue dessert, Heather drove me home, and I relaxed for a while until it was time to go get the boys. (I also opened another gift from Kiki – a copy of the Smitten Kitchen cookbook that I’ve been wanting. Yay!) I was going to let George pick them up, but I wanted to get a birthday cake. Kind of pathetic, having to buy my own birthday cake, but if I wanted one, I’d have to buy it. So I went to the grocery store and found a yellow cake/chocolate frosting number, and here’s where it gets even sadder.

I asked them to put “Happy Birthday” on it, but when she asked for a name, I just said, “no name, that’s fine.” I’m sure it seemed odd, but not as pathetic as it would have been if she’d realized Pam was me. What if I went to check out and the cashier noticed the name on the cake was the same as the name on my debit card? I know it’s a long shot, but I didn’t feel like risking it. Usually, that kind of thing doesn’t bother me, but I just couldn’t make myself do it. So my cake remained nameless.

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Also my Ron Swanson came in the mail!

When I went to pick up the boys, Miles informed me he’d made me a card!!! This is all I ever want from the boys, and I was thrilled. It was the sweetest card. Ack!

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Oliver posted a Happy Birthday on Instagram that morning, which was indescribably sweet. It was a terrrrrrible picture of me, but that’s kind of okay, you know? Like, he doesn’t think it’s a terrible picture. He just sees Mom. So sweet.

Everyone say happy birthday to my mom!💎 She is hard working. @pyjammy

A post shared by Oliver (@oli.kom) on

(Yeah, nothing from Linus, but I did get plenty of hugs at least.)

When we got home, I opened my gifts from George (another lens for my phone – this one a telephoto) and a glow in the dark cockroach that I gave back to him. Thanks, dear. Ellie called me to say Happy Birthday, too.

Then we ordered dinner (pizza for the boys, pasta for me) and had cake. Later, I went to the pub for a birthday drink with Jenn and Terry and Steph, and came home way too late. So I’m tired today, but it was worth it – a nice day filled with friends and food and presents and love. What more could I ask for?

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