I am now 31. Somehow in light of recent events (e.g. the birth of Little A), my birthday seems to be less of a big deal. Also I think that once you reach your thirties, birthdays just stop being so important and more like the slow march to middle age.
As is typical in a Virginia spring, the weather was less than cooperative. Pouring rain for most of the day put a damper on plans I had to visit a big craft show at the Farmer's Market. We did manage to lunch at Cafe Guttenburg which was wonderful. For the last twenty minutes we were there, the Amelie soundtrack was playing. Lovely.
Adrian feted me with a bevy of my favorite types of gifts: books and DVD's. My biggest quandry is now which one to read/watch first.
Mom was lovely and watched our boy for a few hours while we caught a flick. Nothing like some cinematic escapism.
Little A was a trooper while his mom and dad lugged him about in the rain. Unfortunately, he is not the least be sleepy at 10:00 in the evening. This may turn out to be a looong night.
I am really looking forward to next weekend. There's the chocolate festival on Saturday and our first trip to Williamsburg since The Boy's arrival on Sunday. I'm excited to introduce Alastair to one of our home-away-from-homes
Thursday was my first day back at Corporate Hell. I hate it. Not only am I spending time away from my boy, but I am spending that time surrounded by the idiocy and drudgery of the office. Ick. I count the days until I set myself free. Literally three hours into my first day and people were already asking about projects and trying to get me involved. No down time whatsoever. Probably had a lot to do with the fact that the woman who was doing my role while I was on leave just went out to have surgery. Nice, huh? No slow transition back to work for this girl.
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Friday, April 29, 2005
I want a clean cup! Let's all move one place on.
The idea for a Mad Tea Party has been floating in my head for quite some time. The Tea Party scene is one of my favorites from Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland, right up there with the Caterpillar conversation and the Duchess’ house. I’ve had this daydream of hosting a tea party in my backyard (The front yard would be more accurate to the book, but I don’t want to scare my neighbors too much.) with a long table and an array of mismatched chairs, linens and china. There would be pots of various teas, cookies, scones, and other assorted tea-time yummies, and of course, a few rousing, “Let’s all move one place on!” trips around the table.
While considering in my mind how to commemorate my 30th birthday, I mulled over the idea of a “get-wrecked” event, a quiet dinner with husband, a trip out of town, or an informal gathering of friends. Then, the Mad Tea Party re-emerged in my brain. Luckily I have a husband willing to indulge me in these weird flights of fancy and friends who are game enough to show up for a goofy gathering such as this.
Friday night, Adrian and I made a few preparations for the MTP with a run to World Market, a place where I could spend some serious cash. We bought a few more bits of china, some loose and bagged tea, jams, and scone mix. I decided against buying clotted cream or the $5.99 can of “Treacle”, however, now I think they would have been worth it justfor the full effect. Saturday morning, Shana and Chad (our very first overnight guests!) were game enough to be conscripted into helping set up the table. Such troopers.
The weather was totally erratic Saturday, so an outdoor MTP was out of the question. We turned our dining room table lengthwise and added a folding table to stretch into the kitchen. We covered the tables with white and patterned tablecloths. Twelve place settings were put out using a variety of cups and saucers. Down the center of the table, I put a mish-mash of serving dishes, tea pots, and various other tea things. The White Rabbit was in attendance, as was the Dormouse, popping his sleepy head out of a tea pot. I filled some vintage sugar bowls and cream pitchers with carnations, and a tall vase full of daisies.
Once everyone arrived, we sat down to a spread that included lavender sugar cookies, amaretto cookies, strawberries, blackberries, plain scones with a sampling of jams for spreading, and boursin with crackers. Plus, dishes of Chinese “White Rabbit” candy I picked up at World Market. In my collection of tea pots, we made Darjeeling and Assam tea (straight from India!), as well as pots of Lavender Earl Grey and English breakfast. After everyone had sampled the various teas and annihilated the scones and the boursin, Adrian passed around birthday cake, ice cream, and champagne.
Good thing I cleaned two of our bathrooms. With all that tea and champagne flowing, they were well-used.
I had a blast hosting the MTP. Adrian was concerned about the work I was doing baking and preparing for my own birthday party, but in some sick way, I enjoyed it more than I would had someone else put it all together. The Mad Tea Party was my idea, and besides, I love to throw soirees. It’s the Martha in me coming out. Sitting at the head of our elongated tea table, looking out at my close friends enjoying tea and each other’s company, I couldn’t have thought of a better way to commemorate my 30the birthday. My husband, good friends, Alice in Wonderland, and Ukrop’s birthday cake. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Plus, if anyone is thinking about buying me anymore tea pots, please don’t. Trust me; I’ve got more than enough.
If anyone would like to make a contribution towards my next, rather expensive Alice collectable, I prefer cash. Seriously, I bought a doll magazine, because this was on the cover. A doll magazine. It’s a sickness, I know.
While considering in my mind how to commemorate my 30th birthday, I mulled over the idea of a “get-wrecked” event, a quiet dinner with husband, a trip out of town, or an informal gathering of friends. Then, the Mad Tea Party re-emerged in my brain. Luckily I have a husband willing to indulge me in these weird flights of fancy and friends who are game enough to show up for a goofy gathering such as this.
Friday night, Adrian and I made a few preparations for the MTP with a run to World Market, a place where I could spend some serious cash. We bought a few more bits of china, some loose and bagged tea, jams, and scone mix. I decided against buying clotted cream or the $5.99 can of “Treacle”, however, now I think they would have been worth it justfor the full effect. Saturday morning, Shana and Chad (our very first overnight guests!) were game enough to be conscripted into helping set up the table. Such troopers.
The weather was totally erratic Saturday, so an outdoor MTP was out of the question. We turned our dining room table lengthwise and added a folding table to stretch into the kitchen. We covered the tables with white and patterned tablecloths. Twelve place settings were put out using a variety of cups and saucers. Down the center of the table, I put a mish-mash of serving dishes, tea pots, and various other tea things. The White Rabbit was in attendance, as was the Dormouse, popping his sleepy head out of a tea pot. I filled some vintage sugar bowls and cream pitchers with carnations, and a tall vase full of daisies.
Once everyone arrived, we sat down to a spread that included lavender sugar cookies, amaretto cookies, strawberries, blackberries, plain scones with a sampling of jams for spreading, and boursin with crackers. Plus, dishes of Chinese “White Rabbit” candy I picked up at World Market. In my collection of tea pots, we made Darjeeling and Assam tea (straight from India!), as well as pots of Lavender Earl Grey and English breakfast. After everyone had sampled the various teas and annihilated the scones and the boursin, Adrian passed around birthday cake, ice cream, and champagne.
Good thing I cleaned two of our bathrooms. With all that tea and champagne flowing, they were well-used.
I had a blast hosting the MTP. Adrian was concerned about the work I was doing baking and preparing for my own birthday party, but in some sick way, I enjoyed it more than I would had someone else put it all together. The Mad Tea Party was my idea, and besides, I love to throw soirees. It’s the Martha in me coming out. Sitting at the head of our elongated tea table, looking out at my close friends enjoying tea and each other’s company, I couldn’t have thought of a better way to commemorate my 30the birthday. My husband, good friends, Alice in Wonderland, and Ukrop’s birthday cake. It doesn’t get any better than that.
Plus, if anyone is thinking about buying me anymore tea pots, please don’t. Trust me; I’ve got more than enough.
If anyone would like to make a contribution towards my next, rather expensive Alice collectable, I prefer cash. Seriously, I bought a doll magazine, because this was on the cover. A doll magazine. It’s a sickness, I know.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Happy B'Earth Day To Me
There’s nothing like the violation of a brutal week at work after a relaxing vacation, a four-day weekend followed by five days of pure hell. Yummy. So what do I do in the face of a rapidly increasing mountain of inescapable work? I blog. Run from your problems, Amanda! That’s always a brilliant solution.
Turning 30 was great, especially when I drew out the celebration over a several days.
Adrian and I kicked off the prolonged weekend with an evening at his parent's new river home in Irvington: a beautiful, old farmhouse, decorated in their typical exquisite taste. No phones (except cell phones), no television, no computer. Total relaxation.
We woke Thursday morning having had one of the most restful nights in weeks. On the way out of town, still cocooned in bliss from such a good night’s sleep, future and frequent return visits to the River House were planned. It’s amazing the peace that falls over you just a few hours outside of your normal life.
So, I have this annoying habit of being totally unprepared for ill-weather when traveling. Leaving Richmond that afternoon for Monticello, the sky was clear and sunny. By the time we reached Charlottesville, however, clouds were fast approaching. No sooner had we stepped onto the grounds of Monticello did the wind whip up and buckets of rain fall from the sky. The temperature dropped about 15 degrees. I was dressed for Richmond as we left it, a sunny day in the 70’s: tank top, skirt, and sandals. Bollocks.
A tour of the house got us out of the weather, but unfortunately, we were ahead of the most obnoxious tour guide ever who kept her group literally on our group's heels the entire tour. We’d start to move into the next room, and she would be bringing her people right in on top of us. It got tight at times, what with umbrellas and such. The grounds were gorgeous with some of the biggest tulips I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, we weren’t compelled to wander much with the rain and all.
I’d forgotten what a totally fascinating and somewhat insane man Jefferson was. I wonder with all his obsessions and eccentricities how he would be viewed today, especially considering the publicity microscope under which we view our public figures.
Of course, by the time we got to the car and were headed out of Monticello, the rain had stopped. Cold and a little soggy, we ventured into the pedestrian mall area of downtown Charlottesville. We scored tasty coffee beverages, noshed on a panini, and indulged Amanda in her love of used and vintage bookstores, of which there were quite a few. Yes, I am a Book Whore. So, while our trip to C’ville was a bit of a meteorological mess, the day was a great opportunity to explore and plan for return trips in better weather.
My actually birth day was pretty low-key. Sleeping in long enough to still catch some morning television (a rare indulgence). There was the opening of copious cards and the presents from Adrian. My husband showered love upon me in the form of Season 2 of Farscape, the Freaks and Geeks sole season, books, and bling. Yes, this Un-Bling Girl now has fabulous, 30th Birthday Bling. You really must see it; my husband and his excellent taste. That evening there was dinner with the ‘rents, more presents, and chocolate ganache cake with pinwheels.
So, now I’m 30. That’s all I have to say about that.
Mad Tea Party will be detailed tomorrow.
Turning 30 was great, especially when I drew out the celebration over a several days.
Adrian and I kicked off the prolonged weekend with an evening at his parent's new river home in Irvington: a beautiful, old farmhouse, decorated in their typical exquisite taste. No phones (except cell phones), no television, no computer. Total relaxation.
We woke Thursday morning having had one of the most restful nights in weeks. On the way out of town, still cocooned in bliss from such a good night’s sleep, future and frequent return visits to the River House were planned. It’s amazing the peace that falls over you just a few hours outside of your normal life.
So, I have this annoying habit of being totally unprepared for ill-weather when traveling. Leaving Richmond that afternoon for Monticello, the sky was clear and sunny. By the time we reached Charlottesville, however, clouds were fast approaching. No sooner had we stepped onto the grounds of Monticello did the wind whip up and buckets of rain fall from the sky. The temperature dropped about 15 degrees. I was dressed for Richmond as we left it, a sunny day in the 70’s: tank top, skirt, and sandals. Bollocks.
A tour of the house got us out of the weather, but unfortunately, we were ahead of the most obnoxious tour guide ever who kept her group literally on our group's heels the entire tour. We’d start to move into the next room, and she would be bringing her people right in on top of us. It got tight at times, what with umbrellas and such. The grounds were gorgeous with some of the biggest tulips I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, we weren’t compelled to wander much with the rain and all.
I’d forgotten what a totally fascinating and somewhat insane man Jefferson was. I wonder with all his obsessions and eccentricities how he would be viewed today, especially considering the publicity microscope under which we view our public figures.
Of course, by the time we got to the car and were headed out of Monticello, the rain had stopped. Cold and a little soggy, we ventured into the pedestrian mall area of downtown Charlottesville. We scored tasty coffee beverages, noshed on a panini, and indulged Amanda in her love of used and vintage bookstores, of which there were quite a few. Yes, I am a Book Whore. So, while our trip to C’ville was a bit of a meteorological mess, the day was a great opportunity to explore and plan for return trips in better weather.
My actually birth day was pretty low-key. Sleeping in long enough to still catch some morning television (a rare indulgence). There was the opening of copious cards and the presents from Adrian. My husband showered love upon me in the form of Season 2 of Farscape, the Freaks and Geeks sole season, books, and bling. Yes, this Un-Bling Girl now has fabulous, 30th Birthday Bling. You really must see it; my husband and his excellent taste. That evening there was dinner with the ‘rents, more presents, and chocolate ganache cake with pinwheels.
So, now I’m 30. That’s all I have to say about that.
Mad Tea Party will be detailed tomorrow.
Friday, April 15, 2005
You have T-minus seven days to reach minimum safe distance
A week from today, I turn 30.
If you are so inclined to buy me a present, go here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/registry/228SKGGU1RDXS/102-9795325-7645733
Sort by priority of course. Hee.
Britney Spears is pregnant.
This means only one thing. The Armageddon is upon us.
The Amityville Horror starts today. Must get my fill of boyfriend goodness.
I am so avoiding my horrendous job this morning.
If you are so inclined to buy me a present, go here:
http://www.amazon.com/gp/registry/228SKGGU1RDXS/102-9795325-7645733
Sort by priority of course. Hee.
Britney Spears is pregnant.
This means only one thing. The Armageddon is upon us.
The Amityville Horror starts today. Must get my fill of boyfriend goodness.
I am so avoiding my horrendous job this morning.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
My cholesterol is 144.
According to the doc, I’m as healthy as a horse. Fifteen days before Thirty, it’s good to know that my body’s not started falling apart quite yet Props to my paternal Portuguese genes. Me and Dad: Two healthy horses. One more thing I frighteningly have in common with him.
Speaking of the impending Thirty, I still haven’t figured out what to do to commemorate the event. Quite evening at home? Riotous evening out with friends? Quite evening out with Husband? Riotous evening at home with friends?
Mad Tea Party?
Yesterday for the first time this year, I wore a skirt bare-legged. Bare-legged in all my Nuclear Winter White with Angry Red Dog Bite Scars glory. The temp peaked in the mid-80’s. This weekend, the weather will turn chilly and rainy. Man, I love Spring in the Old Dominion. Coming soon: The thick film of yellow evil.
Tuesday, my team had a day long meeting/team-building event. After seven years of Corporate Hell, I tend to get cynical about this type of bullshit, but Tuesday’s meeting was actually helpful. I really like our new Tier Five (translation: my boss’s boss). She’s enthusiastic, smart, driven, and compassionate. A far cry from the corporate douche-bags we’ve had to contend with in the past.
I have made a wonderful consumerist discovery: drugstore.com. I can now shop for OPI nail goodness and Neutrogena sunless tanning (Banish the Nuclear Winter White!) products without leaving my desk. Yum.
This weekend, I travel to Grundy with mom to visit my grandmom. We’re going to try and convince her to move to Richmond where she’d be closer to her three children and her two only grandchildren. I hope she can be persuaded. I’d really like to have my only surviving grandparent (I don’t count my bitch-ass paternal grandmother whom I’ve never even met.) closer than half a state away so I could spend more time with her.
Tonight I shop for mom’s Fiftieth birthday presents. I hope I do well with the big 5-OH gifts. I guess I feel like I can never repay all the things my mom has done for me. Any presents I give her feel paltry in comparison.
Speaking of the impending Thirty, I still haven’t figured out what to do to commemorate the event. Quite evening at home? Riotous evening out with friends? Quite evening out with Husband? Riotous evening at home with friends?
Mad Tea Party?
Yesterday for the first time this year, I wore a skirt bare-legged. Bare-legged in all my Nuclear Winter White with Angry Red Dog Bite Scars glory. The temp peaked in the mid-80’s. This weekend, the weather will turn chilly and rainy. Man, I love Spring in the Old Dominion. Coming soon: The thick film of yellow evil.
Tuesday, my team had a day long meeting/team-building event. After seven years of Corporate Hell, I tend to get cynical about this type of bullshit, but Tuesday’s meeting was actually helpful. I really like our new Tier Five (translation: my boss’s boss). She’s enthusiastic, smart, driven, and compassionate. A far cry from the corporate douche-bags we’ve had to contend with in the past.
I have made a wonderful consumerist discovery: drugstore.com. I can now shop for OPI nail goodness and Neutrogena sunless tanning (Banish the Nuclear Winter White!) products without leaving my desk. Yum.
This weekend, I travel to Grundy with mom to visit my grandmom. We’re going to try and convince her to move to Richmond where she’d be closer to her three children and her two only grandchildren. I hope she can be persuaded. I’d really like to have my only surviving grandparent (I don’t count my bitch-ass paternal grandmother whom I’ve never even met.) closer than half a state away so I could spend more time with her.
Tonight I shop for mom’s Fiftieth birthday presents. I hope I do well with the big 5-OH gifts. I guess I feel like I can never repay all the things my mom has done for me. Any presents I give her feel paltry in comparison.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Impending Doom Birthday
Yesterday, 10:45, the nail clipping commenced. Mercifully it was a brief clipping. I could literally feel my skin crawling the whole time my co-worker was snip-snipping. One of these days...
Whoo. I feel really weird and off-center this morning. When I went to my GP for the dog bite incident, he set me up to get some blood work done for routine tests. I put them off for a month because I had to fast for 12 hours beforehand. Finally bit the bullet and starved myself until 8 am. Although I've eaten, I just feel kind of woozy-headed.
In slightly less than a month, I will turn 30, one of those age milestones arbitrarily assigned by a weird societal expectation of age and maturity. I understand why 16, 18, and 21 are important because they directly correspond with laws and privledges bestowed. But 30? What's the big deal? I guess it's the whole decade thing; each ten years of life merits recognition.
For some reason, 30 is supposed to be scary. Big Bad Three-OH. Turning 30 is like a death sentence for your youth, as if rolling from 29 to 30 begins your descent into the elderly. Yeah, whatever.
Considering in my great-grandmother's time that people were lucky to live to see 30, I don't think of myself as getting old. I'm not even at the half-way mark for my expected life span. Granted, when I was 18 and thought of turning 30 I somehow saw this age as so old, and I definitely saw myself as having a completely different life than I actually do. There was a time when I said I'd have kids before I turned 30. Huh. Looks like that's highly unlikely.
Actually, I am enjoying this year much more than I did the year I turned twenty. That was just a crazy, chaos of a year. I had just got together with Adrian and didn’t know what to think of us or him for that matter. Anyone who was around for our few months as a “couple” remembers those good times. Academically, it was my most difficult school year. Theatre 300? Blah. Several of my friends from freshman year just walked away from me. I had several bizarre pseudo-relationships that either ended poorly or just fizzled away. It was still a fun year with crazy parties and silly adventures. Some of my best stories and best friends came fromf that year of my life.
Forward ten years. If I met the twenty-year-old-me, would I even recognize the almost thirty-year-old-me? I’ve spent the past ten years learning and unlearning so much. I’ve traveled and had an interesting array of jobs. I’ve started, nurtured, and destroyed relationships. I’ve had the good fortune of raising some beautiful kitties. Three tattoos and five earrings later, I like the me now more than the me at 20. I’m wiser, more experienced, and dammit, I look better.
Sure, my twenties were crazy fun, but I am looking forward to my thirties being an even better time in my life. So maybe I have more responsibilities and bills than I did in 1995. So I don’t think I’ll be dressing up like a naughty school girl for parties, staying up all night to watch the sun rise, or doing nefarious things in public places any time in the next ten years. But I don’t want to. Been there. Done that. My life maybe be a little more mature, more staid, less exciting, but I think I am a better person. It’s taken me the better part of a decade to finally appreciate who I am.
That’s what makes turning thirty not frightening. I like myself. Maybe I don’t love myself. I probably find way too many faults with myself than I should, but I am so much more at peace with who I am at 29 than I ever was at 19. Life at thirty is looking pretty damn good.
Riddle me this Batman: Why at nearly thirty do I have a glaring red zit on my chin? Gosh!
Whoo. I feel really weird and off-center this morning. When I went to my GP for the dog bite incident, he set me up to get some blood work done for routine tests. I put them off for a month because I had to fast for 12 hours beforehand. Finally bit the bullet and starved myself until 8 am. Although I've eaten, I just feel kind of woozy-headed.
In slightly less than a month, I will turn 30, one of those age milestones arbitrarily assigned by a weird societal expectation of age and maturity. I understand why 16, 18, and 21 are important because they directly correspond with laws and privledges bestowed. But 30? What's the big deal? I guess it's the whole decade thing; each ten years of life merits recognition.
For some reason, 30 is supposed to be scary. Big Bad Three-OH. Turning 30 is like a death sentence for your youth, as if rolling from 29 to 30 begins your descent into the elderly. Yeah, whatever.
Considering in my great-grandmother's time that people were lucky to live to see 30, I don't think of myself as getting old. I'm not even at the half-way mark for my expected life span. Granted, when I was 18 and thought of turning 30 I somehow saw this age as so old, and I definitely saw myself as having a completely different life than I actually do. There was a time when I said I'd have kids before I turned 30. Huh. Looks like that's highly unlikely.
Actually, I am enjoying this year much more than I did the year I turned twenty. That was just a crazy, chaos of a year. I had just got together with Adrian and didn’t know what to think of us or him for that matter. Anyone who was around for our few months as a “couple” remembers those good times. Academically, it was my most difficult school year. Theatre 300? Blah. Several of my friends from freshman year just walked away from me. I had several bizarre pseudo-relationships that either ended poorly or just fizzled away. It was still a fun year with crazy parties and silly adventures. Some of my best stories and best friends came fromf that year of my life.
Forward ten years. If I met the twenty-year-old-me, would I even recognize the almost thirty-year-old-me? I’ve spent the past ten years learning and unlearning so much. I’ve traveled and had an interesting array of jobs. I’ve started, nurtured, and destroyed relationships. I’ve had the good fortune of raising some beautiful kitties. Three tattoos and five earrings later, I like the me now more than the me at 20. I’m wiser, more experienced, and dammit, I look better.
Sure, my twenties were crazy fun, but I am looking forward to my thirties being an even better time in my life. So maybe I have more responsibilities and bills than I did in 1995. So I don’t think I’ll be dressing up like a naughty school girl for parties, staying up all night to watch the sun rise, or doing nefarious things in public places any time in the next ten years. But I don’t want to. Been there. Done that. My life maybe be a little more mature, more staid, less exciting, but I think I am a better person. It’s taken me the better part of a decade to finally appreciate who I am.
That’s what makes turning thirty not frightening. I like myself. Maybe I don’t love myself. I probably find way too many faults with myself than I should, but I am so much more at peace with who I am at 29 than I ever was at 19. Life at thirty is looking pretty damn good.
Riddle me this Batman: Why at nearly thirty do I have a glaring red zit on my chin? Gosh!
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