Birthdays and Such...

I find it entertaining that my last post has drawn out so many voices. No matter what they say, the good, the bad and the ugly... I like it. Makes me feel all special and stuff. hahaha

I have been learning to cope with being called "sir" since I let the ol' man loose with clippers on my head. It's been a total of 5 times now that I've had to correct someone by pointing out that I do indeed have boobs.

Of course I suppose that doesn't really matter since half of the truck driving males out here have man-boobs. I saw a guy today with boobs much bigger than my own. I thought about asking if he needed a good "lift and separate" but I thought he might not understand the humor in such a question.

UGH - I'm bored out of my mind today. I drove all of 350 miles from MD to NY today and I am now sitting here waiting to sleep. After sleep I can wake up. And after I wake up I can drive 20 miles to where I will deliver the rest of the load that is in my trailer. I delivered the first half this morning in MD.

I hope I get a fairly good follow-on load tomorrow after this one is finally dumped off. I would like a little more mileage for this paycheck. I don't have too much time though. I am due for three days off this weekend hopefully starting Saturday, which puts me finishing up work and getting home sometime on Friday. I'd be okay with getting home ON Saturday because then I could keep a tattoo appointment I have on Tuesday. But if not... oh well.

I will at least have Sunday for sure, which is when I will be going to visit my sister and her family to celebrate my birthday (which was very recent). My sis's been taking cake decorating classes and I'm sure she's anxious to show off what she's learned. And honestly, I'm anxious to eat cake.

Cake is one of my most favorite things. Not just any cake though. I'd prefer to always eat something homemade with royal icing. It just reminds me of so many of our birthdays while we were growing up. Our mom always made our birthday cakes and it was always made with such love... and sugar...that it was absolutely the sweetest thing ever.

We always had many different cakes too: Holly Hobby; Strawberry Shortcake; Garfield; Care Bears... just to name a few.

Great warm memories there... birthdays were the best times. All of our friends and family gathered together in our house or in the yard to eat cake, sing Happy Birthday and then watch us tear open gifts with a frenzy only children harbor.

One of my best birthday parties was when I got my first bicycle. I think I was somewhere between 7-9 yrs. old that year (I'd have to see the pictures of the cake to know for sure). All of my friends were there. All of the kids in the neighborhood and my best friends from school. I was in a pretty party dress with my hair tied in a ribbon. I was asked to close my eyes and hold my hands over them real tight until I was told to look.

The anticipation was building beyond what any young girl should have to endure. Then finally my daddy exclaimed, "Open your eyes.... Happy Birthday Punkin'."

And there was my white and purple bicycle complete with handlebar streamers and a unicorn on the seat. It was better than I ever dreamed.

And for the next year I feel off of it plenty of times. I scraped knees and elbows and even bruised my pride a couple of times. But I had the best time riding that bike for the next couple of years.

Ahh fond memories.

Just because my memory is stuck on Memory Lane at the moment... another great Birthday was my 21st. I don't really remember that much of it... but I know it was a blast. At the time I was married and living in New Mexico. We and many of our great friends headed about an hour west to a town WITH a nightlife to celebrate my "coming of legal age" at a real night club. I was going to order my first beer... LEGALLY and then drink my socks off.

And I pretty much succeeded. I remember drinking lots of beer and taking a few shots here and there. I remember dancing and laughing and feeling all woozy. I also remember the final nail in the coffin. Our Army friend, Loren, asked if I wanted one last shot. I said, "Sure, make it a Purple Lobster."

And off he went. A few moments later he arrived with a mixed concoction that smelled and tasted like a Purple Lobster, but it was actually called "Black Death". Bastard. I drank it... then he told me what I'd just consumed and at nearly that exact moment we all decided it was best to call it a night and start heading back to our humble homes an hour away.

I don't recall much of the ride home... I remember passing out... waking up while mid-stride on my way to the bathroom at some gas station between the bar and home. Walking only with the aid of my husband. I remember next, coming out of the bathroom still with the aid of my husband and hearing someone giggle about "newlyweds" or something to that effect.

Next thing I recall is being asked to get my ID out of my back pocket. The movement required to get my ID was the first shovel full of dirt being thrown onto my sufficiently nailed coffin. I could just speak clearly enough to let the designated driver know I needed the window rolled down. He obliged and I proceeded to throw up all down the side of his car from the check point on to the house.

Once we arrived at the house my husband claims that he had to keep putting clothes back on my person as I walked from the car to the front door. I apparently needed to be nekkid RIGHT NOW... a problem I only have when completely wasted thankfully (and thankfully I stopped getting that wasted).

The rest of the night doesn't really matter. I know I threw up a lot and passed out finally. However, I probably should've been in the hospital. I bet I had a record blood alcohol content... and even more of a record being that I survived it. I ended up in bed for not one or two, but three days without being able to so much as smell water without throwing up. It was awful.

But it was my memorable 21st Birthday with all of the bestest friends New Mexico had to offer.

Thanks for memories...