Sunday, April 10, 2011

Sunday blah blah blah

31 years before I attended a funeral ON my birthday.  That happens to most people at least once in a lifetime, right?  The shittiest part of life, I say.

Jimi, bless his heart.  He was willing to do anything for me yesterday. He's so fucking good to me.

I called my Momma yesterday morning.  She said, "Natalie, what are you doing?  It's before 8 o'clock and it's Saturday morning."  She, of course, was up - I refuse to believe that woman ever sleeps past 5 a.m., except for that one time when she slept till 9:30, but I'm pretty sure she called the Courier-Journal to announce that.  I called her to thank her for being such an awesome, wonderful Momma for the last 31 years.  "Yeah, some Mom I am, I haven't even bought you a card yet," she replied.  She's in Northern Kentucky with her Choral group, practicing.  Last night, she called me and her group sang "Happy Birthday" to me.  I felt so special and loved. Then she said she had to go because they had other birthday calls to make.  What?!  No one else can have my birthday Happy Birthdays!!!  (Daddy called me too, of course.  I didn't know when he'd be up, so I didn't call him first thing, but Momma called him after she got off the phone with me and told him I was up so he called me.)

We did family/funeral things until 2 or so, then had lunch at Toast on Market (Lemon Souffle pancakes with blueberry compote and vanilla custard for me), then caught up with our friends for the Ale Club meeting downtown, where Steve bought me a beer and the lovely Maria and I had discussions about religion and how much my strawberry shortcake martini smelled like the Strawberry Shortcake dolls we played with as children.  Stacy and Jessie came over late last night to hang out for a few hours, and I talked to my Aunt Pam for over an hour while I waited for them to arrive.

It wasn't the blowout badass party I had last year, but it was full of love, and that's all I need.

We're having Jimi's family over for dinner tonight.  Of course, that means cleaning in the meantime.  And laundry; our laundry situation is getting bad again.

I ordered a couple of photo collages from Snapfish using DC pics that I'd uploaded here - I had my fingers crossed that not having the original files wouldn't affect the print value too horribly.  They showed up yesterday, they look great, and I'm very excited - I can't wait to frame them and hang them on the walls.  I've got 5x7s and 8x10s coming too - oh boy!  Between birthday and funeral stuff I've not yet gotten the computer over to my friend to have it repaired and my photos re-found; today's the day for that too.

It's only 9:34 a.m.; I want a nap already.

6 comments:

  1. Happy Birthday, late. Sorry that you had to spend part of it at a funeral. The whole circle of life thing sucks!
    Ewwww having the b/f's folks out. Bless your heart. I used to spend a week cleaning before I would let my, now husband's, family even in the neighborhood.

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  2. Birthday's are funny as we get older huh? It used to be like MY day when it was my birthday. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to do and everyone seemed to love me more.

    Now it's just another day... happy birthday btw... do the laundry, go make dinner.

    But I guess we grow up a bit and are capable of finding beauty and pleasure in the little things.

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  3. Happy belated birthday! I have an award for you if you want it - not because it's your birthday, but just because your blog is great and I love reading it!

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  4. Sorry it was such a weird birthday.

    And, isn't Snapfish great? If you ever want to turn one of your pictures into a vinyl wall cling, you should check out uPrinting.com

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  5. This is my first blog visit, and I DON'T think you're boring!

    Oh, and HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY!

    Also, your "about me" is hilarious!

    Newly following through the FTLOB comment hop.

    Baby Talk without the Babble

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  6. I'm so sorry for you loss.

    It's wonderful that you have such great friends, though! Makes a hard day sweeter :)

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Please don't make me cry.

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