Big Night Out

I wondered how last night would turn out all week. My husband and I hadn't been to a bar in the city in over a year. To prepare for my big night out I hit up Target for a cute shirt ( note to self: Don't go to Target to get "going out" clothes, better to save it for teacher clothes and underwear). I also ate a husband encouraged sandwich, so as not to get loopy after one beer. I stroked on the eyeliner thickly, like a four year olds' crayon. I busted out my hoop earrings that are large enough to hula in.

And when we got there I felt a little bad for the host. We were celebrating his wife's 40th birthday and the guest list didn't seem to be matching up with the attendees. But the food was delicious ( how can you NOT like mini fried crab cakes that you dip into a Mayonnaise sauce? ).

We ordered our beers and quickly fell in line with the beer drinking cadence around us.

We found ourselves socializing with another couple for the majority of our time. They were nice enough. The woman had a buzz cut. I kept staring at it when we talked. I had to stop myself many times from asking her how she felt about her hair cut. Because I went through a phase where I wanted to look like Sinead O'Conner but never had the cojones to go beyond a trim. And I kept thinking about the time when I was in church with my mother and I had on jeans that "had a long rise" and when I sat the bulge in the crotch suggested I was sporting a penis in there. And I began to panic and kept whispering to my Mom that "These jeans make me look like a boy!!"... in that completley horrific way that only adolescent teenage girls do.

I digress.

The conversation rolled into the "What actor would play you?" variety. My husband said ,"That guy from the Sopranos". And I have to admit he's pretty spot on. I hoped no one would ask me, because I have no idea who I would say. My mind seems to get trapped somewhere between who I would want to be like versus who is actually a likeness of me... Because I would say Fergie but the people would be thinking Kirstie Alley.... And the words Fat Actress come to mind. Which by the way, the season is readily available on DVD at my local library. Seriously. ?? ( I mean is it just me or is this kind of thing not exactly a bedrock of literature?).

Anyway, a good time was had by all. Uneventful, but pleasant. We left at 10:30 ( I know what you are thinkging! Party animals!! ) as the beer bus rolled up to take off the others to a night of Salsa dancing and who knows what at Excaliber ( umm... NIGHTMARE...). I am sure by now that most of them are laying in bed right now dying for a glass of water and a cheeseburger, and trying to recall the details.

35th Birthday

I turned 35 yesterday. If you had asked me five years ago what I would want that day to look like I would have certainly guessed with a lot more razzle dazzle, a few more people, and way less sitting around. As it stood, I didn't even sleep in. Because I am old, and I coudn't.
Instead, I actually cleaned my house, as a gift to myself. I didn't HAVE to and that made a lot of difference in me wanting to. Plus, school starts next week and with all the meetings I have this week I might as well have already started, and the crunch has started and I am feeling busier by the second.
I spent the afternoon with my identical twin friends. We had massages, manicures and pedicures. It was only 90 bucks. And minus the bonus amenities, like lighted candles, lemon water, thick carpet, the actual services were pretty good and we all agreed we would go back. ( Heavenly Massage, 383 E. North Ave, Lombard, IL. )
And please... hurry to make your appointments because the place was really dead and I am afraid that I found this cheap gem and it's going to go under. It did have a steam shower and that was nice. Really nice. They actually had to knock on the door to tell me to get out to get to my nail appointment.
There was one glitch ( which is true to form for me... like every time I do anything), the woman who administered my massage seemed to have a fascination with my big butt cheeks. Is that normal that my butt felt like kneaded dough under a gigantic wooden rolling pin? I tried to ignore it and figured it was some Eastern European thing. Either that or she felt like baking bredad and was stuck at her massasge job. It didn't feel bad, it was just.... weird.
Anyway- my friends came over, and we had a couple glasses of wine. My husband came home and we ordered a pizza. I got delicious and fun little presents from all of them. Yeah for birthdays!
And despite the fact that my body gifted me* the following for our 35th: A) a beard B) a pimple line on my upper lip where apparently the at home wax kit did a number on my skin C) my monthly "bill" and D) a UTI, I feel like I still had a very nice day.
Happy Birthday to me!


*A future (LONG ASS) post will most certainly be a letter shaming my ( RUDE ASS) body for having some kind of nerve, but today I didn't want to be angry.