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Birthday Weekend Stuff February 15, 2010

Posted by Kimmothy in Fam Damily, Friends, Home Life, Photoblog, The Man, Weather.
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For me it always ends up that the “big” birthdays – 16, 21, 30 – are usually the only ones noteworthy enough to remember. At 16, my best friend at the time threw me a surprise party, the only one I’ve ever gotten, and I got to debut my neon skinny belts and matching socks to the crowd and got Madonna’s Like a Virgin cassette. At 21, my parents took me and my boyfriend at the time and some friends out for a fancy dinner and my dad bought me my first legal drink, an Alabama Slammer. At 30, my oldest enduring friend threw me an engagement birthday party and many of the people who would travel to our wedding also joined us there and it was crazy fun. Forty was fun last year, but I was also on the high of being in the process of trying to get pregnant and that lent an air of Happy no matter what I was doing.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this past birthday nothing really special was going on. Yet I had an amazing weekend anyway. If you know me at all, you pretty much get to hear me bemoan the lack of snow in my life on a regular basis. For once, Mother Nature or Storm Track Doppler Radar answered my prayers and for about 8 hours it dumped over six inches on us Friday afternoon/evening, enough to keep us occupied and in awe for hours. I couldn’t believe how bright and pink everything was close to midnight and walking around the neighborhood it felt like we had been transported to Narnia or some other magical snow place. The dog loved it. We loved it. I photographed it. I want it again.

Our yard has never looked so pretty

Saturday, the anniversary of my actual birth, Brian made me French toast for breakfast, took me to a place called Tokyo Grill for lunch, took me shopping for a replacement bottle of Happy perfume, told me another present is coming in the mail and was supposed to have been here by now but wasn’t and he was mad and we ended the day at Barnes & Noble. So in other words, a perfect day. We normally don’t do much for Valentine’s Day, but he told me my present was a month of tanning, he just doesn’t know the place to get the best deal and knows I do so when I decide to start back, he’ll slip me some cash. Awesome. It’ll be soon, of that I’m certain. Oh honey, skin damage for Valentine’s Day – you shouldn’t have but you know what I like!

Speaking of what I like. My mother is crazy; this has been well-documented. I don’t know if long-term alcohol abuse actually kills brain cells like they say, but she could be Exhibit A in support of that. What she usually does for my birthday is sends me a gift card, most of the time to Walmart – always very useful and I appreciate it. This year for reasons unknown she went for something different. In the package there was a red and white stuffed bear (yay, happy V-day to the dog!), a purple tote bag with a peace sign on it I would’ve loved on my 16th birthday (Her: “I figured since you got to go to Woodstock and I didn’t, what the heck.”) and this:

What the...

What the...

There are so many things wrong here, I was overwhelmed. With glee. Of course Emailing it to Sister was the first order of action. “Atrocity,” is the word she used and I thought that was a good one. Brian, always the one who tries to justify the Crazy, just threw out a cliche’: It’s the thought that counts. Thought? The actual thought process that went into this is the stuff of my nightmares. I think what knocks me out about it more than anything else though is how LITTLE she knows me. My mother, the woman who pushed me out, loved and nurtured me for a long time. Even my MIL, who is about as opposite-world from me as you can be, knows my taste in clothes and decor. I showed it to her yesterday, and ever the polite Southern lady all she could say was, “Oh Kee-yim, that’s not you at all.” No, no it’s not. However, I thanked her profusely like you do and she thinks I loved it so my job here is done. It’s currently in the donation pile, but if you know any 80-year-old ladies who live in South Florida and spend most of their time gardening and riding around in golf carts, let me know and I’ll ship it Express Mail.

And here’s the really funny thing. An amazing lady in the greater Chicago area, one whom I’ve only corresponded with through computer or text and still have yet to set eyes on wrote this for me. So it may be a little tragic my mom has no clue, but knowing there are people, amazing people out there who DO so totally get me, well that is all I or anyone can ever hope to have.

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Comments»

1. iamheatherjo - February 15, 2010

You could always save the thing your mom sent for a Halloween costume! It would look great with some rolled down knee-high stockings, some rollers in your hair and bottle of something-or-other in a brown paper bag! 😀

It’s so ugly, it’s funny! It’s almost a shame to see it go…

Kimmothy - February 15, 2010

You know, that’s not a bad idea – I felt the same way about getting rid of it. Plus it came with a handy plastic belt, so there’s that too.

2. Taoist Biker - February 16, 2010

God, I think it’s a Mrs. Roper thing. Holy crap.

The snow looks awesome; glad you got to play in it for your birthday!

Kimmothy - February 17, 2010

Mrs. Roper would LOVE this thing.

3. iamheatherjo - February 17, 2010

You could GO as Mrs. Roper for Halloween! 😀

Kimmothy - February 17, 2010

Sadly I wouldn’t have to do too much else in the way of costuming.


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