So the other day, on my beloved cousin’s birthday, I happened to mention finding a photo of her in which her hair was all WOW. But instead of saying her hair was all WOW and oh my fuck, I wish I could rock that, perhaps I said something in the comments like it was all “Edward the vampire” and totally adorable. Regardless, Janie was oh so not impressed.
Let’s not fight with her over the validity of the Twilight books and movies. Instead, let’s discuss whether or not she was 20 years ahead of Edward’s hairstylist:
(Yes, that is Janie on the far right. Be nice, she is my cousin and friend. I’ve been known to throw punches in her honor. (She doesn’t know about them. Shhhh.) Also? How could you not be nice to a crazy teenager in the 80′s? She is damn cute! (Fuck. She probably hates the word “cute” and yet I’ve been drinking so FUCK IT, I’m hitting publish, even with all of the commas and parenthesis, even without a proofread. COZ I CAN! God bless America. And the Internet.)
I love to give presents. Weird part is that I am not that good at receiving them. It means so very much to me when someone is kind enough to gift me with something they put thought into, considered my likes and dislikes, then went ahead and presented me with a present that they want me to have. In all honestly, I get kind of overwhelmed when given even the smallest of gifts.
Considering how much I love to receive thoughtful tokens, be they handmade or store bought or plucked off of the giver’s wall, it is no surprise that I love to give people things. It brings me great pleasure when I find the right present for someone. And I get so excited that I want to immediately give the recipient their item. Like NOW. Honestly, I am worse than a little kid. The thrill that courses through my veins is insane and I can’t control myself…if who I want to give the gift to is within driving distance, I am on my way over. Usually with an unwrapped present.
Yes, I shop on Christmas Eve. Many times I have tried to shop in advance, especially since Shaker Woods is in August and has phenomenal items that make perfect gifts. Then I drive home and go straight to the house, bang on the door and tell Aunt Kate or whoever, “Hey, I was just out at Shaker and found the perfect Christmas gift for you. HERE!”
As a woman who has made it to the age of 38 years, one would think I could outgrow this insane excitement, but I can’t get over it and, sad to say, I can’t control it. So embarrassing to admit, but so true.
On a sort of different note, I found the PERFECT gift for a boy who just turned 10, but I had to order it. And it won’t be here until Friday. Can you imagine the happy girl wiggle I am doing every damn time I look at the image on my computer or think of how cool the gift is? Without a doubt I feel as though I cannot possibly survive until Friday when the present is delivered to me so that I may deliver it to its new home.
This would be right about where I do a loud SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (Again. For the kerjillionth time.)
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
My cousin Sarah was born on this day 22 years ago, which means August 17th will always be special to me.
Happy, happy birthday, darlin. I miss you and wish I were there today to celebrate you.
:nom:
Remember this:
And this: 
(That last photo has a story that relates to Britt’s post today. Wonder if I should let Sarah write it or if I should. Hmmmmmm.)
Someone once said to me, “You make me like…high” and it was really cute and funny. When the mail arrived today I received an immediate rush from the poster tube that had the Maker’s Mark return address. I practically skipped into the house, flung open the sliding glass door so the pups could get some fresh air and green grass, then threw the mail on the picnic table and tore into what I thought might have been a belated birthday greeting from my favorite bourbon.
I was wrong.
It was so much better. This is what I received:
A letter and poster saying my barrel is just about done and will be bottled soon! Oh my fuck, I am, like, high. I’m gonna head out of town when the G20 Summit comes to town so I don’t have to deal with those fuckers, plus I can have all kinds of fun.
Oh yeah. AND I CAN BUY MAKER’S MARK BOURBON FROM *MY* BARREL! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Saturday my little cousin, Re, also known as Twinkle Twat, turned 28 years old. We decided not to exchange gifts this year, to instead make a date to go out together, just the two of us. Regardless of the difference of 10 years in our age, fun seems to break out when we are together.
Must be the smile… 
I am only totally looking forward to another night out and about.
Damned if I didn’t get another pair of sunglasses for my birthday this year. At least these are better than those CHiPs shades from last year! (Thanks, Cinderella. xoxo)
The girls took me out for sushi, a few bottles of wine and cook in front of me Japanese. (Yum!) Plus they gave me terrific presents. And this was the day after my family rocked the hell outta Thanksgiving dinner on Auntie M’s front porch. It honestly might have been the tastiest turkey that I have ever had. Incredible.
A few awesome cards came out of this birthday. Gotta scan them coz they made me smile. Until then, happy day.
July 5, 1971 around 10:30 AM or so, my Momma finally delivered me into this crazy world. (While I was to be born on the 2nd, I tend to never be on time.) Since I don’t have a brand newborn baby me photo scanned, here is a happy young baby Becky picture, drooling with my toes curled and all…
I’ll miss mom like crazy today, but I have a Thanksgiving dinner party being thrown for me on my favorite porch and that should keep my mind on happy thoughts. Fortunately there will be plenty of incredible people for me to share the day with.
Although I can only hope that this year for my birthday that no one will gift me with another CHiPS DVD that includes sunglasses. (Man, my friends are fucked up.)
I’m a huge fan of July 4th because I love to celebrate this country’s birthday. It is one of my favorite days.
Although I would totally love to be able to celebrate in Florida because it is his birthday as well:
He is the wonderful husband to a terrific friend…a good man who just so happens to also be a fellow Cancer.
Happy birthday, America.
Happy birthday, Jared!
I have always been a huge fan of my birthday. While I know many people who try to ignore theirs, who don’t want to admit to getting older, I have never been among their ranks. Quite the contrary, I celebrate the miracle that is me surviving another trip around the sun. Seriously, there is no real reason why I am alive other than I am truly blessed or lucky.
Which means I love my birthday. Back in the day I would celebrate the entire month, then I got it down to the week before and the week after. Lately I have been trying to only celebrate the weekend, but my birthday is July 5th and it is so difficult when the day before your birthday is a holiday because, helllllo, built in party.
This year my day falls on a Sunday. (Since Independence Day is a Saturday, we are closed on Friday the 3rd…woot!) I was emailing or IM’ing with a friend and telling him how happy I am to have a long weekend to celebrate my birthday and he said him as well. The more we discussed our plans the more it became obvious…we both were born on July 5th. How fucking cool is that? No wonder we were instantly close friends when we met a few months ago. (Him in 1966, me in 1971.)
Reminded me of a day when I worked at the bank…maybe back in 1995 or so…and was talking with one of my favorite co-workers. He mentioned that his birthday was July 5th and I excitedly said, “Mine, too!”
My coworker looked at me in disbelief and gave me a stern, “Who told you to say that?”
“My mother.”
:neener:
Last year I was pretty damn honored to be invited to friends’ son’s 16th birthday (bowling!) party. It surprised me that the kid wanted me tagging along, I mean this was a pretty major birthday after all, but I certainly wasn’t about to complain. We had a terrific time and it was an all around damn fun day.
This year the kid’s parents decided to go along with his desire to dine at Ichiban, the Japanese restaurant. Of course I was thrilled to tag along. Yay, hibachi dining with a great people!!
What really amazed me, and always surprises me when I dine in hibachi style restaurants, is the friendliness of our fellow diners. The people sitting next to me were hysterical, joining in as I spoke Spanish (“gracias”) and hollered back at the chef (“Ay ay ay!”). Actually, they got more unruly than I did, which ain’t easy!
It made me so happy to be with friendly, outgoing people who were happy to be out and about. Also made me happy that the kid didn’t care where we were sitting (at a hibachi table), he ordered the sushi dinner boat because that is what would make him happy. Awesome! (I have been known to order chicken or salmon at a steak house simply because that is what I was in the mood for that day, regardless of what my fellow diners thought of my choice.)
Anyhow, even though I missed most of the first period of the Penguins – Flyers game, it was worth it.
Thanks for letting me share your birthday, D!
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