And add this?My dear friends, you get my birthday dinner outfit. Scroll down for the finished product.
The week of my 24th anniversary of birth was fantastic. Absolutely frigging fantastic. It started with a holiday -- one where I actually got the day off (huzzah!) -- so that was great. I went to go see Ratatouille in a theatre full of little kids. (it was the $2 show so it was worth it.) The movie was actually decent. The animation was a little life-like though. And when I thought about the idea of a rat making my fine dining, it almost made me want to throw up.
After the movie, my friend and I headed over to East Providence Lanes ($4 on Mondays!) where I spanked him in 10 pin. I got the best score of my life: 167. I'm talking strike, spare, strike, strike, spare, spare, 5, strike, strike. It was ridiculous. I even had the clerk print out the score because I knew no one would believe me.
The rest of the week was cool, too. My friend surprised me with a book I've been wanting with this elaborate scheme at my job. Basically, I got punked. He had one of my coworkers let him into the building and then they played out this skit where they said there was a press conference I was late for. When I came up to the office assistant's desk to pick up a packet of info, instead, I got the book and my friend jumped out from behind a pole. I screamed. Like a little girl. He got me good.
Thursday, after work, I got all fancified in my birthday dinner outfit and headed here to meet Julian for dinner. He got mad cool points for this one. i told him I wanted to dress up for my birthday because, as a Hamptonian, I felt I was slacking on my outfit game. The northeast is extremely casual and I was afraid that I was losing my Hampton swagger, as understated as it might be. So he obliged and took me to this swanky spot.
Here's how the entire outfit came together. I wore black slingback pointy toe pumps and a cinched taffeta-esque clutch purse.
The restaurant, which is supposed to have the best view in Boston, was kind of a bust. I had the lamb. He had the chicken. His was better. It rained that night so on t he 56th floor of the Prudential center, that view is obscured by fog. I told my waiter I'd like a rain check on the view. He laughed. Nothing was funny, but he laughed anyway.
Afterward, it was still mad early, so we milled around Cambridge, before shunning a few bars and lounges and ending up in a Wal-greens in Dorchester. All I wanted was some hot apple cider. They didn't have any, so I got a ginger ale and Julian got ice cream. "It's your birthday," he said. "You gotta have ice cream or cake or something." Eh, I suppose.
I rang in my birthday on his couch, watching ESPN. Sounds sucky, but it was actually pretty cool.
The next day, Friday, I had the day off. Leave it to a black woman to take her birthday off like it's a national holiday or something. Nah, seriously, I worked Sunday night, so I got a day off in the week as an exchange. I coulda taken Tuesday off, but then I'd be working on my birthday. So I just took Friday off and chilled.
The day began with a massage at my girl's spa. I opted for the Swedish massage. Thanks so much for all of your suggestions, but I made the right decision. PURE HEAVEN. Yes, it was a little weird to be stripped down to my skivvies and having a semi pudgy white man rub me down, but after I got over the initial nervous laughter, it was the single most relaxing experience I've ever had. The hour wasn't enough. I'm saying: I need to be like Paris Hilton or Beyonce or somebody so I can just get one of these joints every week. For anybody looking to get me a Christmas present (or belated birthday present) I take massages. Holla at me.
The spa is in the mall, so I exchange a present I'd gotten a few days before for a larger size. I'm still excited, still relaxed, still on the high from my massage. But then I head to Gap to use a coupon. Worst decision I made.
I asked the clerk to pull up my credit card number because I didn' t have the plastic on me. Cats couldn't find my number. Turns out it was a technicality on Gap's part, but the process took like 20 minutes and raised my stress level to 10. As I walked out with my purchases, I could feel those knots forming on my shoulder blades.
For the rest of the day, I tried to recapture my serene feeling from earlier. I went and got my eyebrows done, went and put some stuff at the tailor, then came home, sat quietly and watched Babel while I ate spaghetti. Good times. That night, I went to church, got some presents and then closed out my birthday at my favorite pizza spot on Federal Hill with a few of my friends. Good times, indeed.
The next day, I chilled until that evening, when my birthday extravaganza began. I -- yes I --- planned my own birthday function. I gathered a bunch of my friends and said 'hey, let's go roller skating.' So we did. I'm getting tired of typing so I won't belabor the point, but the skating joint was supposed to be 18 and up. It wasn't. But it was cool. Skated. Didn't fall. Had a blast. Went to play pool afterward. Stayed out until 2:30 a.m. Got up the next morn and went to church. After service, I came home and fell out on my living room couch.
That, dear friends, was my birthday week in a nutshell. I had lots of well wishes, some other presents and a few surprises in between, but I had a great week overall.
If you want to check out pics from the entire weekend -- with running commentary -- check out my Picasa Web album here: http://picasaweb.google.com/TaliaBuford/ThatSCashA24thBirthdayCelebration
