The one where I decide I'm Never. Growing. Up.

My mind is full of fantasy. Of pirate ships and cowboys running off into the sunset. Of princesses and princes. Of fairies in the woods. Of magic dust. And girls who can fly, and mermaids who swim in the deep ocean.
Sometimes, when I need a break from the real world, and when I am lucky enough to be near it, I escape to "my meadow." It's three meadows down, deep in the woods. When you walk into the clearing all you see is rolling hills, the dip, and grow. A single tree resides close to the middle. Most importantly, you cannot see even a tiny sign of civilization. I am convinced this is where the fairies live. And if I look closely enough, I may see a centaur walking quietly along the tree line.
You wouldn't know it to look at me. You wouldn't know it to talk to me. But it's there, in my head, giving me smiles.
In Denmark a couple weeks ago we visited Tivoli. It was full of color and bloom on it's opening weekend. Everything dressed to the nines in preparation for Easter. A ballerina, a jester, and a clown frolicked around the gardens making friends and putting on mini performances. And then there was the Pirate Ship. Sitting so serenely in the "bay." Almost ominously. Lurking almost. But it seemed to welcome me. It seemed to whisper "Come explore!" Unfortunately it was off limits. Unless of course I wanted to book a birthday party.
A BIRTHDAY PARTY?? It was the most brilliant idea anyone has ever put into my little head. A birthday party, on a pirate ship? Yes please!
E laughed at my excitement. "Well, you can tell you grew up with boys." And she walked off. Not one for fantasy? But boys or  no boys. Think of the romance. The adventure. The pure happiness I will feel perched in the bird's nest while everyone sings happy birthday!
Not to mention it allows me to celebrate growing older, but never actually grow up.
And so, my friends, it is added to my Before 30 list, whether it's my 25th or the 30th itself, I will celebrate a birthday on a pirate ship.

And we will drink rum ;)

Classy Birthdays...?

I have always wanted a classy birthday party. One where a few of my friends and I get together, dress up, and have dinner at a classy restaurant. We have lots of wine, eat good food, and laugh - but not too loud, because we are being classy. But alas, this has never happened.

This year was amazing, but everything short of classy.
My actual birthday was spent at work. I was spoiled with my dinner and was allowed to have a glass of wine on the clock. When I got home I had more wine, and a chocolate torte, it was lovely.
The next day I headed to the city for my real celebration. The first night was spent with SIL (B3 was on a business trip). We went out for sushi, drank copious amounts of wine, and watched Jersey Shore. I guess it could have been classy if I left that last part out...

My parents had booked a couple of rooms for me and some friends for Saturday (the perks of being in the hospitality business - we got them for free!). So all of my beautiful Londonites - except for Penn, he had school or something... - traveled to the city to help celebrate my birthday.
When the Londonites get together more alcohol is consumed than you would think is humanly possible. Especially tequila.
We all arrived at the hotel, seven boys, three girls. The boys went out to buy alcohol, but Panda and Sie were prepared - a whole bottle of patron - so we started to get dressed. Outfits were thrown back and forth "This one looked amazing on you when we went to Ministry of Sound, wear this one tonight." "I just found this top at Urban, you will love it!" "Hey, do you have that black belt that goes with this dress?"
And then the best exclamation, "I'm pouring the shots!"
The boys return and we are semi-dressed, semi-makeuped, and semi-drunk.
We drank a little more, giggled a lot, and finally I slumped onto the bed. "I think we should eat?" We bundled up and headed for Dick's Last Resort, the only place that would allow us in in our state.
When we arrived there was an hour wait, "but it's my birthday!" they took my phone number to call us when a table was ready. What do we do? We head for the pub, of course!
When we walked in, every one of the boys offered to buy my drink, because it's my birthday! But I was already sufficiently fuddled, so settled on just one for the moment... that quickly turned to two, maybe three? The bar was empty, as it was only eight pm, so we took over and started a dance party, what else?
On the way back to the restaurant we sang and danced and pretended like we werethe only people in the whole city. Sie spotted a perfectly untouched area of snow in the middle of a courtyard. All I remember is her saying something along the lines of "snow angel" and I was down on the ground, arms and legs sprawled out, making the best snow angel you ever did see. I arrived back at the restaurant completely covered in snow.
From there it's a blur. We got hats with horrendous statements written on them - mine said, ahem "I got Dick for my birthday!" ...because we were at Dick's, you know?
I drank a few too many margaritas, tipped the waitress far too much, sang with Elvis, and then headed back into the night. Somehow we found an Irish pub with live music - our favorite type of place to drink - and I decided I was an amazing Irish Step dancer. My cousin is an Irish Step Dancer, and she taught me a couple steps. So of course I am a professional.
I knocked over two beers, my friend started a fight with the bouncers, and we were kicked out. From there? I remember nothing. From cameras and random memories we figured we went to two other bars at least, and made a pit stop at a McDonald's where I made friends with everyone in the restaurant as well as a few unsuspecting passer-bys. Hellllooo! Who are you? What are you doing tonight?? It's my birthday! I'm 21! (lies) Meet me at the next bar and we'll daaannnce!  I'm so friendly.
Panda hooked up with the Greek. I called Penn with a drunken "I hate you because you're not celebrating my birthday... but I misshhh you sooo musshh." - that's me trying to type drunk? And Sie called Stien to give him the play by play. We could have been back in London again.
We somehow made it back to our hotel safe and sound, though I will never know how. I did hear one of my friends got stuck in the revolving doors for about five minutes...
Classy.