My turn.

Ah... so this week was my birthday.  I thought about asking my mom to blog about it for me, and I still may.  I know that I was born a couple weeks early, induced because of my mom's pre-eclampsia.  I was a bitty thing - 5lbs 3 oz - and not a very attractive baby, if the pictures are to be believed. 

As anyone with a birthday close to Christmas will tell you, it sort of sucks.  There's a lot of that "this is for Christmas AND your birthday" stuff going on, and even at 6 I knew damned well that they weren't giving my brother and Christmas/Birthday presents.  No, he'd get another whole round of gifts in June!  To this day, I refuse to open birthday presents given to me at Christmas until my birthday.  My poor mom, her birthday is December 27, so she really gets the fuzzy end of the lollipop.  When Jeff and I talked about having kids, I swore that I wouldn't have a child near Christmastime... and hello Ellie my little January 4th baby.  Oh well, the best laid plans....   Anyway, all this may lead you to the idea that I might be a little bit sensitive about my birthday, and you'd be right.  So in my adulthood, this has translated into I like to throw parties for myself and make a big fuss over it. 

For my 30th birthday, Jeff threw me a big surprise party at a deuling piano bar in Baltimore.  I knew that there was a party, and I knew that it was at Howl at the Moon, but what I didn't know was that he had secretly told everyone to wear shorts and t-shirts under their sweaters and he'd bought luau paraphanalia from Oriental Trading Company.  At a signal, shirts and pants came off, the box was whipped out and suddenly I was surrounded by people in grass skirts and Hawaiian shirts... a luau in January! 

For my 34th, I had an "adult" party here at the house for my girlfriends.  We had a denmonstrator from Pure Romance or one of those places come and show us her wares.   I am not really a girl who talks about such things, so my friends took great pleasure in my embarrasment and watching me blush with each more outrageous thing she would display.  The best part of that night was when she had Johna "try on" a piece of equipment (over her clothes thankyou) and then turned it on without telling her.  Johna, who is about 110 soaking wet, damn near knocked the girl over my railing and down the stairs. 

And this year, I've hired a psychic to come and do readings for some of my friends.  I used to go every year on my birthday with my friend Casey and it's a fun little tradition I've missed since Boston.  So, my next blog will contain all her predictions for my future... I'm hoping she'll tell me when this baby is coming and maybe even what flavor of baby I'm having!  Stay tuned!