Happy Birthday to ME!!!

My birthday was this past Sunday, November 16th. I hate it when my friends act all covert and offended when you ask them how old they are. It's not like I'm asking you how many times you wipe your ass when you take a shit or how much you weigh. Quit fucking lying, you are not 27 and haven't been for 8 years. I am thirty-six years old and think I look pretty damn good for my age. I think "acting your age" is over-rated. It's a state of mind. If you believe you are old and decrepit and call your pants "slacks" and wear Easy Spirit sneakers, well I plain feel sorry for you. And I probably won't be your friend.

I went to Bar Louie Friday night to celebrate another friend's b-day. (Happy birthday, Aileen!) To say I was over-served might be a polite way of saying I was tanked. Vodka is always a good choice for me in the headache-avoidance department. So I casually sipped/guzzled 5 vodka drinks. Or was it six?... Then I mixed a few shots in there. Patron. Southern Comfort. Lemon drop. Some vanilla girly shot. Was there more? I wore my new Aldo grey suede boots (they are sexy and way too high) and a dangerously short grey skirt. It was so short that if I dropped my keys I would have to ask the person next to them to grab them or I might have labe exposure. It was a chilly night and I like to keep my labes toasty under my skirt. I danced and danced. Then I realized that my feet felt like roadkill. And I had to sub for 3 ballet classes starting at 9am the next morning. It was 1:30 and I was sloppy and gimpy. Good night. Fast forward to 7am the next day---still drunk. Ugh. Rehydrate with about 3 liters of water. No. More. Booze.

Till dinner time!!! Kiku in Naperville has a nice array of sake so I felt normal enough to pound back a few servings of that. The silly Japanese chef, clearly a master of the QVC Ginsu Elite Collection, pelted us with shrimp, eggs, and bad jokes. Sophie attempted to catch an egg and failed, dropping it in her sauce plate. I got pelted with a shrimp twice, once in the boob and once in the cheek. I am not good at catching flying food in my mouth, nor do I think I should be. It is a nice dining experience if you want someone else to entertain your kids and actually have them eat their meal without Webkinz bribery, not that I have ever done that. Sunday was spent with my brother and sister-in-law. Lots and lots of red wine (after a nice visit to church, don't worry). My mom baked my all time favorite cake, Cherry Chip with pink cherry frosting. I even put it in capital letters because it is THAT important. It is super sweet and super artificially cherry-flavored. I have wonderful memories of always bringing my Cherry Chip cupcakes to school as my birthday treat. Now kids get the shaft when it comes to birthdays. First it was pre-packaged snacks for the food allergy kids. (I swear to God no one had peanut allergies when I was little and carried epi-pens like fashion accessories like they do now.) Now we aren't even allowed to bring FOOD as treats for the kids. Food allergies and "health and wellness" policies rule our lives now. I'm sorry but getting a PENCIL isn't a treat to a 1st-grader. Getting a cupcake IS. And the kids get pretty healthy meals for lunch (no pop or cookies or Pixie sticks served in the cafeteria) so why can't they have a damn sweet treat to celebrate a birthday once in awhile? Just because Johnny the 2nd-grader has a gut that resembles the Michelin Man and man boobs you make MY kids suffer? Have Johnny join the park district basketball league, put down the king-size Funions , and turn off Spongebob when he comes home from school. Just a thought.

So I am in a post-cake, post-wine, I sort of can't believe I am another year older state right now. But it's a good thing. I am young at heart. I wear skinny jeans, not nipple high mom jeans. I have boycotted my Ford Windstar for the Jeep. I favor bikinis over tankinis. I have become an embarrassing addict to Facebook. And I think I look pretty damn hot for a 36 year-old. Now if I'm wearing a bikini at 60, feel free to have an intervention with me. Until then, where's my cake?!!!!