![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Birthday Weekend.
May. 21st, 2007 08:55 amIt was the best weekend ever. Horrible movies with Dayna, colon cleansing and baseball with Rowan. Getting random calls from friends who sang Happy Birthday to me was definitely a treat.
Honestly, I think this is the first birthday I've ever had where I didn't have only my family to count on for having fun. Which is kinda sad when you think about it, but I'm not thinking about it. I'm still squeeing over the attention I'm getting.
And you guys know about me and getting attention.
Saturday, I drove over to Dayna's apartment, and we had lunch and she teased me with hints about the movie. When we were finally ready to start it - she had me sign a waiver before watching it.
Do you really want to know what the worst movie of all time is? One that I know already that I cannot top?
( Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. )
I can't say I didn't warn you.
Sunday was a dark, gloomy, cold day. I managed to find parking in the north side of Chicago, near Rowan's building. We went to the nearby El station (Red Line, takes you straight to Wrigley) and got seats for our Cubs/Sox game. It was awesome, even though the Cubs lost, and the Sox were on fire.
What also was on fire was my mouth. If Rowan tells you that these are the hottest chicken wings you've ever had, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BELIEVE HIM. It took me two cups of soda, a hot dog, and a quarter bag of peanuts to reduce the burning from just ONE the Kamikaze Wings he got for me. It was COATED in a Habanero paste, and covered in seeds.
Later on, he and I each had a second one. Ladies and gentlemen, we are not very smart.
"So I'm destroying your intestines, and Dayna destroyed your brain yesterday. Do you have any friends that don't want to kill you?"
"No, not really."
Rowan's high point of the game was the GQ Bishounen that were sitting in the section in front of us. Before the game started, there was a Japanese in a full casual business suit, standing like he was posing for the cover of a magazine. He was quickly joined by his poofy-haired jeans-and-sport-coat friend.
I told Rowan that if he managed to get a picture of them, I'd never hear the end of it from Jillian. She'd be yelling at me because I didn't wear my sport coat to the ball game.
After I got home, my parents took me out to Sweet Tomatoes - my choice, because after just two chicken wings, I knew I'd need something bland (with ice cream) to offset the already brewing storm.
Debbie called to sing to me.
Best. Birthday. Ever.
Honestly, I think this is the first birthday I've ever had where I didn't have only my family to count on for having fun. Which is kinda sad when you think about it, but I'm not thinking about it. I'm still squeeing over the attention I'm getting.
And you guys know about me and getting attention.
Saturday, I drove over to Dayna's apartment, and we had lunch and she teased me with hints about the movie. When we were finally ready to start it - she had me sign a waiver before watching it.
Do you really want to know what the worst movie of all time is? One that I know already that I cannot top?
( Abandon all hope, ye who enter here. )
I can't say I didn't warn you.
Sunday was a dark, gloomy, cold day. I managed to find parking in the north side of Chicago, near Rowan's building. We went to the nearby El station (Red Line, takes you straight to Wrigley) and got seats for our Cubs/Sox game. It was awesome, even though the Cubs lost, and the Sox were on fire.
What also was on fire was my mouth. If Rowan tells you that these are the hottest chicken wings you've ever had, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BELIEVE HIM. It took me two cups of soda, a hot dog, and a quarter bag of peanuts to reduce the burning from just ONE the Kamikaze Wings he got for me. It was COATED in a Habanero paste, and covered in seeds.
Later on, he and I each had a second one. Ladies and gentlemen, we are not very smart.
"So I'm destroying your intestines, and Dayna destroyed your brain yesterday. Do you have any friends that don't want to kill you?"
"No, not really."
Rowan's high point of the game was the GQ Bishounen that were sitting in the section in front of us. Before the game started, there was a Japanese in a full casual business suit, standing like he was posing for the cover of a magazine. He was quickly joined by his poofy-haired jeans-and-sport-coat friend.
I told Rowan that if he managed to get a picture of them, I'd never hear the end of it from Jillian. She'd be yelling at me because I didn't wear my sport coat to the ball game.
After I got home, my parents took me out to Sweet Tomatoes - my choice, because after just two chicken wings, I knew I'd need something bland (with ice cream) to offset the already brewing storm.
Debbie called to sing to me.
Best. Birthday. Ever.
