My Birthday weekend started out with a visit to my favorite breakfast restaurant to load up on carbs and gravy.
The carbs were needed for the marathon tour of three amazing museums.
At the Museum of Contemporary Art, a cushion called me fat.
After an amazing day out with friends, I came home to find that Britain’s Queen had sent me yet another birthday present. It’s embarrassing; really, I still haven’t sent her a gift for her 132nd birthday.
I couldn’t dwell on my social faux pas, as it was soon time to head to dinner.
My new favorite drink.
It goes by many regional names; in these parts it is called a Colorado Bulldog. It’s a White Russian with Coke.
Just thirty-seven of my closest friends. It’s like a “Where’s Waldo” more like a “Where’s Steve?”
Dinner was amazing.
By the time Sunday rolled around I was still in my whirlwind. A run in the park, breakfast with buds, then off to the mall to shop for some new Pumas using my stack of Puma gift cards.
Running through the mall with the new kicks.
Driving to the next engagement.
I finally had time to relax at a friend’s get-together. That was when I discovered that my cocktail thought I was handsome.
It was a truly awesome birthday. Now I need a nap.
glad you had a great time
ReplyDelete37 at dinner? I don't have 37 friends, let alone ones that I could wrangle for a meal out. You B popular. ....and handsome.
ReplyDelete...the glass says so.
Where on earth did you find a restaurant that would hold space for 37 people at one long table?
ReplyDelete