Since yesterday was Boyfriend’s Birthday I decided to be a nice girlfriend and I picked up a yummy dinner from Katz (which never kloses). Boyfriend is very particular about what he orders there. He always wants a number 3 Rick Barnes sandwich (which is corned beef and pastrami) but instead of breed he wants the meet in between two potato pancakes with a whole lot of sour cream on the side to dip it in. Yeah…
So, being the awesome GF that I am I got him his modified Rick Barnes and a slice of cheesecake with fresh strawberries. Really, it’s more like a hunk, a slab, a 5000 calorie chunk of the greatest cheesecake you will ever put in your belly. Hands down this is the best cheesecake I’ve ever had, and to make it more festive for Boyfriend’s Birthday I stopped by our local grocery store to buy a candle for him to blow out on top of his “straight from God’s bakery” cheesecake.
So here’s my random thought… why don’t we put candles in more things we eat?
I walked into Clarksville Grocery and bought a box of 20 candles. 20 candles! What am I going to do with 20 candles? Okay, I know that some people have a candle for every year they have been alive on their cake/cupcakes/cheesecake/birthday treat, but that gets a little ridiculous after like age 13. When you are 8, having 8 candles isn’t a big deal. Your mom still has enough time to light them all and carry your cake out to the table without all the wax dripping and half of them being blown out by the air conditioner, but by then time you get into your teen years, mom is just using a few candles to write out the number of how old you are. You might be turning 18, but your cake is only going to have 12 candles on it in the shape of an 18. So why were both boxes of candles in my grocery store big enough to hold 20 and 26 candles? It’s like the scene in Father of the Bride where Steve Martin gets all angry in the grocery store because he thinks they are ripping him off for making him buy 12 hotdog buns when there are only 8 hotdogs in a hotdog package. I use one candle a year. I am now set for Boyfriend’s next 19 birthdays. That means he will be turning 51 and I will still be using these damn candles!
My new strategy is put candles in everything! Why only get to blow out candles once a year? Why only have one wish every 365 days? Why not put candles in everything and therefore get a wish with every meal? I wouldn’t feel bad wishing for a new Marc Jabocs bag tonight if I knew that tomorrow I could wish for world peace. Leftovers would be much more exciting with candles. Left over half eaten salmon from dinner last night, boring. Left over half eaten salmon from dinner last night adorned with sparkly, bright pink trick candles that never go out, awesome.
Speaking of birthdays… Why isn’t our 1st birthday really our 2nd birthday?
Between Sister and a bunch of my friends having children, I’ve been invited to a whole lot of 1st birthday parties. Except really aren’t they the kid’s 2nd birthday? Technically, the day you are born is your birthday. Literally, the day you are born is your birthday. I mean you cannot get and more “birthday” than the actually F-ing day you were born! Every December 28th is not my birthday, it’s the same calendar day that I was born (this year) 26 years ago. So all those invitations I get should really say, “Come Celebrate Jonny turning 1 on his second birthday!” Or “Come celebrate Jonny turning 1 on the anniversary of his birthday.”
In continuing this post about birthdays, C Section kids really freak me out.
Before I get to the reasons why C Section kids are weird, let me state that I have no problem with most moms who have to have a C Section. I think modern technology to save a baby’s life or the mom’s life or help keep both of them healthy is amazing and what not. Blah, blah, blah… insert the politically correct thing to say.
What I have a problem with is people planning their children’s birthdays. I mean I think a mom making an appointment with her doctor in her little black book to schedule in major surgery to have their child on Thursday (their non busy day) is crazy. Now is it weird if the doctor told them that their kid has a giant head and can’t pass through the birth canal so they should schedule a C Section, no. But, I was talking about the kids themselves being freaky, not the mother.
I know I am weird, but when someone tells me they were a C Section kiddo I always wonder what they would have been like if they had been born on the day God and the stars and they decided they were good and ready to be born. Some kids come a few days early and some a few days late. Would I be an entirely different person if my mom had scheduled me to be born before Christmas on the 22nd? Seriously I think about this all the time and not just when I’ve had too much to drink and whatnot. Boyfriend is a C Section baby. If he was born on the natural day he decided he stewed long enough in his mother’s womb, would we be together? Would his laugh be the same? Would his mother changed her mind and named him Philip instead of Boyfriend?
Seriously this shit blows my mind.
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthdays. Show all posts
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
How I Met Boyfriend and How He Lied About Being Old...
Boyfriend’s birthday is on Wednesday and he will be 32 years old. In my Oregon Trail post I wrote about how we try not to have “how old were you when…” conversations because it can quickly get awkward, but other than that our age difference isn’t a big deal at all. Of course it helped that when we first started dating he told me he was really like 2 years younger than he really was.
Let’s go back…
I met Boyfriend when I was 20 and living with Davis Girl and Boy Roommate. We had all just moved in together and I was pretty much having THE WORST SUMMER EVER!!! My boyfriend at the time, Ex-Boyfriend, had just left to study abroad in Amsterdam for a year and I broke my foot on Old Co-Workers head at Shlitterbahn and had to walk around in a black boot all summer. So, there I was crying every day because I missed Ex-Boyfriend (well and because I was fucking pissed that he had the nerves and balls to leave me for a whole year and not just a semester like normal college students), and hobbling around on my retarded foot… it wasn’t a pretty picture. Davis Girl and Boy Roommate spent a lot of that summer getting me out of the house and cheering me up. One of the ways Boy Roommate did this was to take me to play water volleyball.
Let’s go back even further…
This game of water volleyball has been going on since the early 1990’s. Technically a few people would argue it goes back even further than then, but the early 90’s is when Chief started playing and he’s Chief so that’s where I’ll start. You see Chief was a spry Doctoral Student at UT and moved into this new apartment complex that had a water volleyball pool. After a lot of practicing and playing and inviting of friends, Chief became Chief and he has stayed there ever since. So the game now is a big mixture of people. Some people live or, more usually, lived in the complex and found the game addicting. Others, like myself, were brought to the game by someone else who knew about it. Boy Roommate many, many years earlier had lived at the complex and started playing. Like almost everyone else, he had moved away, but still came back Wednesdays, Thursdays, and the weekends to play ball.
I met Boyfriend that first summer I started going to the pool. He was never rude or mean by any means, but he wasn’t exactly friendly either. He was just quiet, which I always thought was sort of odd because his best buddy, his hetero life mate in the world of water volleyball, was the loudest most obnoxious person out there. (And, according to Davis Girl, “the cute one”.)
Some people I met playing water volleyball…
Chief (who holds a PhD from UT in History)
Creepy (whose real name is John)
Wescott (who just might be the most competitive person I’ve ever met in my life, but his parents are like poets or English Professors, so I think it kinda makes since. Also he did a project for one of his classes about the evolution of the AWVP’s terminology. Check it out here.)
Pat (who wears funny glasses)
Jess (Boyfriend’s Hetero life mate who is the other half of The Wild Boys, yes my boyfriend is a “wild boy”)
Rachel (Jess’ Ex-girlfriend who I was told, “can fuck you up” on my first night at the pool by Navy. No, I was never “fucked up” by Rachel)
Jim Back (no words can describe Jim Back, except that he is a father now and “I weep for the future”)
Bunny (because who don’t love a Big Lewbowski refrenece)
OJ (“Other Jesus” because one savoir just isn’t evough)
If you would like to learn more about the AWVP please click here.
Yeah so summer number 1 Boyfriend didn’t say two words to me.
During summer number 2, the next summer when I was 21, Boyfriend asked out my roommate. My male roommate. So, one Saturday there weren’t that many people at the pool playing, which is very odd for a weekend in the summer. There was however a whole lot of beer and a very hot sun. Needless to say, we all got quiet drunk very easily. With a little beer in his system Boyfriend got up the nerve to not only start talking to me, but also start flirting. It was nice. Then as the sun started dipping behind the buildings and games started slowing down, he went up to Boy Roommate…
Boyfriend: “So, what are you going to do tonight?”
Boy Roommate: “Um, I don’t know man. Davis Girl is working so Lemon Lady and I will probably just chill at home.”
Boyfriend: “Oh… Oh, well some friends and I are going downtown and you should totally come. It will be fun.”
Boy Roommate: “Um, sure…”
Boyfriend: “Yeah… okay… andyoushouldbringLemonLadywithyou.”
Boy Roommate: “Yeah, sure, okay.”
That’s how it happened. Boyfriend asked out Boy Roommate and the rest is history.
Now, Boyfriend’s age came up that very day at the pool. I will swear on my death bed that when I asked Boyfriend how old he was that day he told me 26. I had never dated anyone more than a year older than me and 26 was a big pill to swallow. In my head I thought of his age like this…
“26 is almost like being 25 and 25 is still considered early (okay maybe mid) 20s. So really he’s not that much older than me.”
Then a few weeks later I found out that Boyfriend was really 27, not 26, and he was about to turn 28 in October. In a matter of weeks, Boyfriend aged 3 years. It’s a good thing I was already completely in love.
And because I'm a sucker for cute photos... here are some from that second summer together playing ball.
Let’s go back…
I met Boyfriend when I was 20 and living with Davis Girl and Boy Roommate. We had all just moved in together and I was pretty much having THE WORST SUMMER EVER!!! My boyfriend at the time, Ex-Boyfriend, had just left to study abroad in Amsterdam for a year and I broke my foot on Old Co-Workers head at Shlitterbahn and had to walk around in a black boot all summer. So, there I was crying every day because I missed Ex-Boyfriend (well and because I was fucking pissed that he had the nerves and balls to leave me for a whole year and not just a semester like normal college students), and hobbling around on my retarded foot… it wasn’t a pretty picture. Davis Girl and Boy Roommate spent a lot of that summer getting me out of the house and cheering me up. One of the ways Boy Roommate did this was to take me to play water volleyball.
Let’s go back even further…
This game of water volleyball has been going on since the early 1990’s. Technically a few people would argue it goes back even further than then, but the early 90’s is when Chief started playing and he’s Chief so that’s where I’ll start. You see Chief was a spry Doctoral Student at UT and moved into this new apartment complex that had a water volleyball pool. After a lot of practicing and playing and inviting of friends, Chief became Chief and he has stayed there ever since. So the game now is a big mixture of people. Some people live or, more usually, lived in the complex and found the game addicting. Others, like myself, were brought to the game by someone else who knew about it. Boy Roommate many, many years earlier had lived at the complex and started playing. Like almost everyone else, he had moved away, but still came back Wednesdays, Thursdays, and the weekends to play ball.
I met Boyfriend that first summer I started going to the pool. He was never rude or mean by any means, but he wasn’t exactly friendly either. He was just quiet, which I always thought was sort of odd because his best buddy, his hetero life mate in the world of water volleyball, was the loudest most obnoxious person out there. (And, according to Davis Girl, “the cute one”.)
Some people I met playing water volleyball…
Chief (who holds a PhD from UT in History)
Creepy (whose real name is John)
Wescott (who just might be the most competitive person I’ve ever met in my life, but his parents are like poets or English Professors, so I think it kinda makes since. Also he did a project for one of his classes about the evolution of the AWVP’s terminology. Check it out here.)
Pat (who wears funny glasses)
Jess (Boyfriend’s Hetero life mate who is the other half of The Wild Boys, yes my boyfriend is a “wild boy”)
Rachel (Jess’ Ex-girlfriend who I was told, “can fuck you up” on my first night at the pool by Navy. No, I was never “fucked up” by Rachel)
Jim Back (no words can describe Jim Back, except that he is a father now and “I weep for the future”)
Bunny (because who don’t love a Big Lewbowski refrenece)
OJ (“Other Jesus” because one savoir just isn’t evough)
If you would like to learn more about the AWVP please click here.
Yeah so summer number 1 Boyfriend didn’t say two words to me.
During summer number 2, the next summer when I was 21, Boyfriend asked out my roommate. My male roommate. So, one Saturday there weren’t that many people at the pool playing, which is very odd for a weekend in the summer. There was however a whole lot of beer and a very hot sun. Needless to say, we all got quiet drunk very easily. With a little beer in his system Boyfriend got up the nerve to not only start talking to me, but also start flirting. It was nice. Then as the sun started dipping behind the buildings and games started slowing down, he went up to Boy Roommate…
Boyfriend: “So, what are you going to do tonight?”
Boy Roommate: “Um, I don’t know man. Davis Girl is working so Lemon Lady and I will probably just chill at home.”
Boyfriend: “Oh… Oh, well some friends and I are going downtown and you should totally come. It will be fun.”
Boy Roommate: “Um, sure…”
Boyfriend: “Yeah… okay… andyoushouldbringLemonLadywithyou.”
Boy Roommate: “Yeah, sure, okay.”
That’s how it happened. Boyfriend asked out Boy Roommate and the rest is history.
Now, Boyfriend’s age came up that very day at the pool. I will swear on my death bed that when I asked Boyfriend how old he was that day he told me 26. I had never dated anyone more than a year older than me and 26 was a big pill to swallow. In my head I thought of his age like this…
“26 is almost like being 25 and 25 is still considered early (okay maybe mid) 20s. So really he’s not that much older than me.”
Then a few weeks later I found out that Boyfriend was really 27, not 26, and he was about to turn 28 in October. In a matter of weeks, Boyfriend aged 3 years. It’s a good thing I was already completely in love.
And because I'm a sucker for cute photos... here are some from that second summer together playing ball.
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