My Birthday: the good, the bad, and the ugly

Every year Derek is shocked when I morph into a diva on my birthday. Generally, I am not a very demanding person, and I don't go around demanding that things be great all the time or that they be exactly how I want them to be. But on my birthday, I want to do specific things and eat specific things and I want it to be special. And this birthday I felt extra pressure because it was on a Saturday, and we all know that only happens a couple times a lifetime.

I want to explain again that it's not that I expect Derek to kiss my ass or anything, but I just want things to go generally well. Derek woke me up and gave me lots of wonderful presents in the morning (including Willie Nelson tickets! yay!) and my parents had sent gifts from the registry, so that was all good. And we went walking on the little trail near our house, with the millions of cute dogs. Then I had decided that I wanted to go hiking if the weather was nice, to a museum if it wasn't so nice. But because we'd been exposed to Hep A, we had to go to the free shot clinic at the Board of Health. This was downtown, near the MOCA, so that's what we decided to do. However, we had to wait THREE HOURS (or more) to get our butt shots, so this really bummed me out because of, you know, all the pressure about a Saturday birthday. Plus butt shots. Who wants a butt shot on their birthday? (I don't want to know.)

The MOCA was great! The exhibition was on modern graphic artists, starring lots of R. Crumb and Art Spiegelman, which we both thoroughly enjoyed. There was also a VW bug strung up by all it's parts. Cool. I love both the MOCA and it's other half, the Geffen Contemporary and Bri & Wes so will you I think. Don't expect them to be big like anything in NY, but expect that they'll be good.

Then at home, I got into a horrible fight over the phone with one of my dearest friends, which we are still struggling with today. I'm hoping that our relationship will come out of it for the better, but right now we are both feeling like crap.

Not to be deterred from my enjoying my Saturday birthday, Derek and I did go out to my favorite restaurant anyway, and here is what I ate with incredible enjoyment: bright pink horchata, enchilada with a tangy tomato sauce and Oaxacan string cheese, cactus salad, some of Derek's tamale dulce, and tortilla chips with mole. Someone reading has been there too! And there was a very enjoyable marimba band, reminding me of Guatemala. Then we came home and watched March of the Penguins so I got to watch Derek get all teary (so adorable) AND we ate MORE: chocolate chip with chipotle cookies that a student made Derek to try to get a better grade, and mint ice cream with Ghiardelli chocolate that my culinary genius husband made from scratch.

I also think that I felt a little sad and homesick for my friends on my birthday, and that contributed along with the big fight and the butt shot to add to my general malaise.

Then I went to bed and had three restless bad dreams: One in which a good friend of mine who I am seeing today was stabbed and I had to take him to the hospital, one in which I was unpacking and found a turtle in my stuff and didn't know what to do with it, and one in which I was a cheerleader and people were relentlessly criticizing my body.

And that is it, in case you were wondering. Now I am 31. bleh