Thirty-too-old-to-party-like-this-but-too-young-to-stop-now!

Where to begin, where to begin.

My Birthday! Weekend! Spectacular! actually started on Friday night, not with any birthday activities but with my seeing Sex and the City: The Movie. What can I say? I loved it. I'm a chick. I loved the show. I have the six-season DVD box set that I play in between the PG-rated reruns on TBS. The movie was like watching a yet-to-be-taped Season 7, a confectionery mini-series minus commercials. I loved the writing, the cinematography, the wardrobes. The plot was a little simplistic and slow and some details were completely unrealistic, but none of that mattered. I sat in the theater for two-plus hours with a shit-eating grin on my face and I swear it had nothing to do with the bottle of vodka I sneaked into my Sprite.

Saturday morning I woke up bright and early to prepare for the second annual birthday party with Nicole. Our friend Lauren let us host the party at her fabulous Malibu house, so we spent the day food shopping and prepping and generally, just party planning. The event started at four, most guests started showing up around five, and by seven the party was in full swing, just in time for the start of a gorgeous sunset.

Why yes, that is the view from the deck.

By nine or so I decided it was time for a dance party.

I thought I might demo The Charleston.

And practice my showtunes.


"Together, wherever, we go"

I think the last guests left around 11:30 or midnight, and I crashed soundly in the guest room, so, so, so happy.

Sunday we woke up, cleaned, and just lazed in the sun, sleeping off our hangovers. There could be worse things.

My company gives everyone the day off for our birthdays, so I took full advantage of that this year, and spent the day cleaning, running errands, and catching up on general weekend stuff I had to forgo in lieu of party-planning. Oh, who am I kidding. I slept late, spent half the day on the phone and the other half marveling at all my awesome Facebook messages, feeling extremely blessed to have so many wonderful people in my life who actually remember to wish me happy birthday. Who am I? And how did I get so lucky? I know I wrote something similar last year, and I don't want to repeat myself, especially since I am too tired to articulate it as well, but I just feel ridiculously, overwhelmingly blessed.

I also feel extremely exhausted and have been nursing a weird case of heartburn since last night (why, hello 32 - is that you?) but I still met Tracy out for dinner tonight, capping off my birthday weekend with the girl who has been my best friend since I moved out here three years ago. I really could not ask for anything more than what I have, and I am so glad my 32nd year has started out as amazing as it did.

Next stop: Vegas. Four days and counting...