Twenty-ninth in the year of my tyranny

My last birthday party took place in the second grade. All the cool kids were there--Scott Thoms, Kenny Owens, Dave Kelty, and even some people I didn't have crushes on! We had pizza, cake, 3 liter bottles of soda and friggin' dixie cups (remember those?) Yeah, I would say it was going pretty smoothly until Rebecca Roy started crying in the middle of our ET screening and we had to switch activities.

Seriously Becca, you were kind of a baby for an 8 year old.

Undirected we may have done some jumping on the couch, freeze tag indoors sort of  activities, but nothing I wouldn't do at school if I was king for the day, which I was, btw. I had asked for a skateboard that year and my silly parents wrapped helmet separately and had me open it up first. (Last time I touched that thing)  Plus all my classmates gave me books and dolls and candy and cards and as an added perk, a bunch of that positive reenforcement crap everyone says is ruining Americans.

Anyway, they left and I went to the couch to gloat and index my loot. But my grandmother always used to say, if you laugh too much before you go to sleep, you end up crying. My mom usually reminded me of this while I was already crying and the relationship was clearly causality based at that point. I still don't know how it happened, but someone got footprints on her new wallpaper. And that, my  sweet internets, was the last birthday party ever. (For more first world problems, please scroll to the post below)
But the date that marked my 29th revolution around the sun took place last Saturday slash Sunday morning. Let me tell you, the makeup gods had blessed me that night. I looked like one of those bitches, you know what I mean?  I had on cute ankle boots, amazing, black thigh-high stockings and a short lavender dress--plus my silver danglie earings and this chunky green bracelet I always forget to wear. Trust and believe, the birthday girl had it wrapped up tight. My whole thing was about a 7 on the Ph scale--which is a hard achievement to unlock if you're trying to keep the Ass in class.

I've never actually seen the end of this movie because a Mariah Carey video was taped over it. Does it work out with the gay guy???

So many cool people showed up--some people who didn't even RSVP and some people who weren't even invited. All told we were about 50 at our peak. That's what I love about our parties, people were speaking, French, Italian, German, Russian, Japanese and English. I was just speaking loudly. Seriously though, Paris is such a beautiful smash-up of cultures, if someone would give in and plant some friggen trees on my street I'd buy the place. (I mean Paris, all of it. Totally using Francs, though.)
I just want to stress that I was really surprised to receive gifts. I mean, it was a party--if you brought your own drank, we're square. But my friends and even a few casual acquaintances gave me some thougthful presents. (I resisted the urge to take photos of them and list them here for you.)  Truly, there was enough handmade stuff to start an Etsy shop. I was even gifted a bottle of wine from 1998, a Bordeaux no less, and from his family's vineyard! I don't even know when I'll be fancy enough to be worthy of it.

It was a long night. A friend crashed on the couch and we had to kick one guy out at half-six--literally, he was actually kicked a bit. I woke up around 3pm, had some Advil for breakfast and realized someone wrote on my bedroom wall. A bunch of my roommate's food got eaten, whoops on that, and a bowl and a chair were both broken durring the 7 am cleanup process--but it was the best party I've ever thrown. YUP. My mom would have beat the life out of me. .....My grandma would have seen that coming.

Here are some photos!
Oh, play this song while you look at them. If you're too lazy to look up/translate the lyrics, he's just basically saying, life is hard, so we dance.


Did it tell you to watch it on Youtube? Then, be a doll and open it in another tab! Photos, aller!

So yeah, excellent party. Sebastien got me a cake, the coloc all pitched in to make it awesome both food and guest wise and we even had a  featured apparence by Sweeney. (Did you see us in our second grade hats?) It's not like I'm growing up or anything, but I'm fairly certain I almost nothing embarrassing. Ok. I likened not getting a scarf to pedophilia somehow. I don't know. So maybe that..but otherwise, totally appropriate evening--I wasn't even afraid to look at the pictures the next day!

And now it's time to bring the recycling out...It's the walk of shame equivalent granted to you in your late twenties. It also gives you a chance to tone that upper body. Take that walk of shame!

So much tyranny left, it's gunna be awesome!

Have a wicked good birthday post? I'd love to link it.

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