As a surprise for my big 3-0, my friends in Richmond orchestrated a birthday weekend getaway for me. They got me a plane ticket, hosted a dinner, a brunch and an open house. They housed me and fed me and drove me around. It was all pretty fantastic. I imagine this must be how Reese Witherspoon feels on her birthday. My friend and hostess extraordinaire, Carol, even got me a custom cake. It had the state of Virginia on it. Well, we're going to pretend it was the state of Virginia. It was definitely not a big hill with the words "Over the Hill" above it. No, definitely not that. If it were, Carol would have some explaining to do.
The weekend started out with the one negative aspect of my trip...an airplane. I do not like flying. Not at all. AT ALL. I withheld this information from my friends for two reasons: 1. I really, really, really, REALLY wanted to go home. 2. I sometimes like to pretend that I'm a grown up who doesn't freak out over things like air travel. But in real life? I freak out over things like air travel. Every time I tell someone that I don't like to fly they tell me things to try to make me feel better, except their advice is stupid. They say things like, "more people die in cars than airplanes". First of all, now I am freaking out about the drive to the airport. Thanks guys. And secondly, let me just explain the difference between a car and an airplane. Cars are on the ground. Planes, if you haven't noticed, are 38,000 feet IN THE AIR. People also tell me about how people fly all the time, blah blah blah. People also voluntarily stick needles through their body parts. People eat raw fish and pay money for it. People cannot be trusted to make wise choices. I think I scared the girl sitting next to me, who happened to be a 2nd year medical student. The good news? She's well prepared for her rounds in the psych ward.
Once my plane landed I spent a good hour lying on my friend Elisabeth's floor, trying not to die. It worked. I didn't die. Are you impressed? I am.
After hanging around with some friends, we headed to dinner at my favorite restaurant, Baker's Crust. Perhaps Florida's greatest downfall is its lack of Baker's Crust. Well, that and the pants-loving cockroaches.
Let's talk about Baker's Crust. It's actually really about the mushroom and brie soup and the crepes diabolitin. That's what I get every single time I go and I could stick my face in the plate, swim around for a bit and then slurp it up until ne'er a trace is found. I usually have people with me so I try to eat like a human so I don't embarrass them. I'm not cool enough to find new friends. I'm darn lucky to have the old ones and they, for some odd reason, are okay with being seen with me in public. I'm not messing that up. But it's tempting sometimes because those crepes and that soup? Manna from Heaven.
Dinner was great but the company was better. I had good friends from Richmond, a friend who drove up from Charlottesville and my beloved Pediatrician. Yes, my kid's doctor came to my birthday dinner and gave me the most fantastic book (it's like she knows me, which is weird. I mean, it's not like I'm a hypochondriac with six kids or anything strange like that.) and even brought her stethoscope to listen to a wheezy baby Chase. Don't you wish your doctor was as cool as mine?
After dinner we weren't quite done, so we went back to my friend's place and stayed up late doing what we do best...telling hilarious stories and acting like idiots.
The next morning we had breakfast with a few more fantastic ladies and went to Target. No birthday is complete without a trip to Target.
After an afternoon of hanging and watching "Duck Dynasty", which I am now hooked on, thank you Elisabeth, I went to dinner with my "best and dearest and oldest" friend. This friend is days away from delivering her baby girl. We were hoping to coax her out with a nice dinner and our monthly Godiva chocolate but alas, she was not interested. I remember what it was like not wanting to be seen out with your parents. It's okay Mary, I get it.
On Sunday baby Chase and I ventured to Church to see some peeps and then had an afternoon cake party. I like to pretend this weekend was for me. Let's be honest, it was not about me. It was about baby Chase. It's okay, I'm just glad I have mammary glands and therefore get to be his automatic plus one.
After staying up way too late and sleeping through my alarm, I managed to make it onto my plane and again, not die. And now I'm back home with my family.
I've had a lot of birthdays. Remember how 30 is a big number? But this one, well, it was pretty awesome. A huge thank you to every single one of my friends and family members who made this birthday so great!