I Told 'Em It Was My Birthday Just To Hear The Waiters Sing Off-key

There's something about my birthday that makes me blue. I don't know if it's the fact that I'm another year closer to thirty or if it's the buildup to the Festival of Hillary and consequent letdown. Or maybe it's the fact that the pitch-black mornings and non-stop rain have made the end of summer undeniable. Whatever it is, it makes me want to stay in bed all day and forgo showering and eating and you know, living. I want to melt into my sheets and become one with my flannel pyjamas. If it wasn't for good friends and pumpkin pie and a husband who gave me a macbook(!), I probably would have shriveled up into a ball of self-pity. Actually, I kind of did throw a pity party for myself (oh, and PS to Ben: that song is one of my favourites too. I can't figure out how to listen to it without first listening to the track it's hidden behind - have you?)

I had a fabulous birthday. Shawn surprised me with a macbook (her name is Ambrosia and she is lovely.) My family celebrated Thanksgiving and my birthday together like we do every year (I get pumpkin pie instead of birthday cake, which works out well because I would like to marry pumpkin pie.) Bow put chocolate eyeballs behind her glasses to cheer me up. She's thoughtful like that. We made her stay that way while we took about 30 photos. The chocolates melted. I laughed so hard that I cried.


My mom tried to get Stella to cuddle her, to no avail.

I love this photo because a: Stella looks like she is about to lose her shit and b: it looks like Stella is wearing giant slippers

Stella is a one-lady kind of pup.

The next night, Robin made a fabulous spread of munchies and we watched the Canucks beat Calgary.

my hair, not being weather-girl flippy! but not being as cute as Robin's hair

Cat couldn't make it out last weekend so we celebrated our birthdays (hers is the day after mine) this past weekend. We started off on a party bus.

The party bus had a pole. It should be noted that I was shit-faced drunk before I actually touched the pole. It was slimy. The interior of the party bus was "very hoseable" as someone so aptly put it.

not inebriated at all, no siree

After drinking cheap vodka from plastic bottles (which wasn't the brightest idea, Maxie you know what I'm talking about) we headed to Section(3) for drinks. I ordered my drink based solely on its name "The Donkey." I don't even know what it tasted like (taste buds burnt off due to cheap vodka.)

birthday girls!

From there we headed to the Hamilton Street Grill. I hadn't been before but I will definitely go back. The service was fabulous and the food was amazing.

crispy beef tenderloin salad

sablefish and wild mushroom risotto

lemon creme brule (my new boyfriend)

So Festival of Hillary is officially over, eight days after my actual birthday. I was going to try to stretch the celebrations out until the end of the month but I can tell that Shawn is getting pretty sick of hearing "but it's my birthday!" whenever he tells me it's my turn to wash the dishes. He threatened to kidnap Ambrosia if he hears it one more time so I guess I'll stop, if only to save my macbook from his evil clutches.