24 (not the TV show)

Oh sweet Jesus, I'm as many years as there are hours in a day. I feel old. Well, maybe not old, but grown-up in a way that's fairly disturbing. Like I should be wearing business suits. Or having babies. Odd considering that I still kind of think I'm too young to be getting married, but as my childhood friends will tell you, I always did insist that the two don't have to go together. (Marriage? Ew. Boys have cooties.)

In any case, my birthday was yesterday, and was probably one of the better birthday's I've had (21 was pretty exciting, 22 would've been good if I'd drank a little less, 23 isn't really worth mentioning since we had camp that day so my birthday was kind of a non-event). I even managed to accomplish my preferred trio of birthday indulgences: pedicure, chick flick, & hamburger. So here's how the day went.

I woke up to the doorbell, postman delivering a little package from my sister. Then I got lots of hugs and cries of "Bunny's birthday!" from Lui, who gave me a sweet card wherein he spells "love" wrong ("loye" for some reason) and then chides himself for it, and two presents: a CD of "summer favorites" (basically more of the American jazz classics that I love), and a full day at what, according to his research, is the nicest spa in Wales. (I saw this one coming; I did ask for professional pampering, and he's had a bookmark called "Wales's best day spas" in his football folder for a while now. Yes, I snoop a little, but really he should've renamed it "Newcastle" or something to throw me off course.) This is all taking place on Sunday (he's booked a massage for himself too so he's not there all day with nothing to do), and I have to admit it's a little scary. What kind of a facial takes an hour and a half? What if I have to pee mid-body-wrap? What are some of these other things I'm booked in for?

Lui went to work, and I went with his dad and sister to see The Break Up. So I'm kind of striking out with chick flicks recently; this is another one without the requisite happily-ever-after you expect (see: My Best Friend's Wedding, The Object of My Affection, Kissing Jessica Stein, Lost In Translation - ok, so that last one isn't really a chick flick, but still). I liked it, Lui's dad & sister didn't. Oh well, my birthday.

Came home in time for my 5:00 pedicure appointment with a girl I worked with at the restaurant for like five minutes. She's really nice - it would figure I find someone here to be nice to me like a month before I leave. She claims she can do toe art, but she can't really. I ended up with this dot pattern on my toes that's cool in it's own way, but is totally not flowah. I need a Korean immigrant; those women are gifted.

Lui came home sometime in the middle of this, but hid upstairs playing Playstation. We got dressed up, his family came over and gave me presents (series 1 of Desperate Housewives, which I still haven't seen, a little jewelery box so I don't risk losing my rings amid all the stuffed animals on my nightstand every night), and we headed off to my ex-place-of-employment for dinner.

I'd managed to swing the hamburger (usually a lunch item) by asking ahead. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to ask ahead for a margarita, or maybe that was just my attempt at not being too demanding, and so was unable to have one. We had a good meal though, in spite of the service being pretty bad - I'm not just saying that because I recently found out that one of the girls doesn't like me because I'm American (seriously? racism? that's the best reason she could come up with?) - we were literally waiting half an hour for our plates to be cleared so we could order dessert, and there were only three other tables in the whole night. After we'd asked for the bill, though, they surprised me by bringing out a cake that Lui's mum had dropped off beforehand, and my ex-bosses gave me a gorgeous bouquet of flowers in all my favorite colors (bright ones). So then I didn't feel like complaining about the service anymore, although I am seriously considering emailing said ex-bosses and letting them know that - for once, mind you - it was below average.

We came home, and I had an email from What-If Guy - just a short one saying happy birthday and asking what he could get me (wink) - and then I really smiled, and then I really felt guilty, because it's becoming more and more obvious to me how big of a crush I actually still have on him. Then Lui took me upstairs and gave me a massage that was nearly every bit as good as the one I got from my beauty/holistic therapist friend - massage to me is like sex: why should I have to pay for it when I can get better for free? Sadly, to Lui, it's like oral sex: reserved for special occasions - and I fell asleep in his arm's and forgot about What-If Guy and his damn flirtacious email.

That was my wonderful yesterday. Today is just another day, except I'm still 24 and wondering why I'm not barefoot and pregnant yet.