So, many of you may be wondering, what was my birthday surprise? And what did I do before said 4:00 birthday surprise?
The day started like most Saturdays: with a trip to the Happy Rose Buffet. Aaron and I then went hunting for garage sales, being that it was sunny and gorgeous outside and sales should have been in full swing — but, alas, the few we found were barely worth getting out of the car for.
I did open my present(s) from Aaron, too. He got me the Dune special edition DVD and Logan’s Run on DVD, and also got me a Lane Bryant gift card. Squee!
Around 4:00, there was a knock on the door — and it was Sheryl! @whee! She brought me a birthday card (complete with her own Grim Reaper artwork), Hello Kitty stickers, a gift card to Home Depot (yay, plants!), and the You Grow Girl book I had listed on my Amazon wishlist. We hung out for a couple hours, just talking and shooting the shit, before she had to go get some food and head back to Columbus. That was an awesome surprise. Thank you, Sheryls! (Oh, and your Mom’s seventies golf clubs? Quite the swanky set.)
After Sheryl left, Aaron and I headed out to Wildwood to walk around and enjoy the weather. As we walked down the bike path (we weren’t wearing our walking shoes, and had to stick to the paved areas), we saw about six deer crossing the railroad tracks. That was cool.
Then came dinner. As usual, we waffled on where to go. We’re so indecisive about restaurants. We ended up deciding on Outback Steakhouse, and having the Bloomin’ Onion and the Outback-Style Prime Rib. Mmm. Then we came home and ate some Twinkie-misu for dessert.
Overall, I had a very low-key but pleasant 30th birthday.
I wish I had written in my diary/journal back when I turned 12, though, because I really felt a connection to how I felt back then — kind of like Life was moving faster than I was prepared to go. I distinctly remember making a comment about not wanting to grow up, and I remember my Aunt Sammie finding that preposterous. I was scared, though; in a few months, I’d be going to Junior High, graduating to a new Sunday School class, maybe having my “womanhood” rear its ugly head, and all I wanted to do was watch Dance Party USA and read Star Trek books and hang out with my Mom and her boyfriend.
The irrational fears that are in the back of my mind are a little different now. I’m close to half-done with my life — how fucked up is that?! I haven’t done half the things I wanted to by now, really. And being an agnostic/atheist isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, I’ll tell you what. It would make my occasional fear of mortality a little easier to swallow if I thought I’d be seeing my stepdad Tom and my Memaw and my Granny and meeting Aaron’s Mom and all that shit when I die. As it is, death scares the living fuck out of me. Nonexistence is a tough pill to swallow.
Yes, I know, I’m only 30. But when I’m PMSing and being all funky before bed, weird shit goes through my head sometimes. And poor Aaron didn’t know what to make of the fact that I was all weepy on my birthday, when he was trying to be all Happy Birthday for me. And then he got all sweet and said that we were going to grow old together and use the next generation of Viagra so he can “knock my cobwebs out,” which was sweet in its own Aaron-ish way, and made me weepy all over again. (Poor boy just can’t win.)
I’m feeling much better now, though. It really was just PMS, I think. That, and remembering some crazy dream I had a few months ago where I thought that Aaron and I were going to die. That freaked my shit out. But maybe I’ll share that one later.
My boobs used to be size D. That was when I was technically obese, though. Now that I’m on the cusp of being merely “overweight,” my boobs have reduced to somewhere between C and D. 