A little over a month ago it was my birthday. This is an extremely belated birthday post, but this story has been waiting patiently in the back of my mind while I sorted my life out enough to get back to writing. The past few months have been a trying period where – in my typical fashion – I quickly uprooted any sense of routine I had established in favor of my preferred state of utter chaos. I am simply unable to merely make one big life change and then be content for a bit. Nope, I need to layer changing careers with the addition of a side business which I’m working to grow into a substantial second income, to that add getting engaged and merging households into one tiny space while already formulating a plan to move again (I’ve been in my condo for less than one year), and to finish it off, I’ve decided I’m going to add yoga instructor to my skill set and I’ve already booked a course for this fall which will consume every weekend for a month. I will have no life from September to October. None.what.so.ever. I’m learning this is how I thrive. There must be change, there must be excitement, there must be an absolutely terrifying sense that it will all fall apart. It is what keeps me awake and engaged – present and in the moment. But I digress. You wanted to hear about a birthday.
For this past birthday Brian finally managed to surprise me, and I had my first ever surprise party. I’d always wanted a surprise party. Those people who say “I hate surprises,” well, I am NOT one of them. I love surprises. I’m infuriatingly difficult to surprise, but I love them. Each time Brian has tried for a thoughtful surprise, the universe thwarts him. There was that time I went with a friend to get a massage and he secretly came into the spa and bought a gift card which he asked them to apply towards my service. They forgot. I called him on my way home and he kept waiting for a huge and well-deserved thank you. When it didn’t come, he finally asked, with more than a little irritation in his voice, if there had been anything waiting for me at check out. Surprise ruined. Then there was that time (at another spa mind you) he booked my surprise birthday massage and explicitly asked they not send me a confirmation email or text, but they did. Surprise ruined. Then there was that time he was going to propose, and his well-meaning buddy was on speaker phone in the car and made a comment which by itself wouldn’t have made me suspicious, but Brian’s reaction totally gave it away. The surprise wasn’t totally ruined, as he managed to play it so cool leading up to the proposal that I had talked myself out of being sure it was happening, but, you see the trend.
This time, with a little help from my best friend Heather who kept me occupied with pedicures and wine (pause for an observation – apparently I spend a lot of time and money on massages and pedicures and it has just occurred to be I may be a bit high maintenance), he pulled it off. He gathered my favorite people for a little poolside grilling and by happenstance also made my favorite birthday meal of perfectly seasoned London broil. To top off the perfect day, we destroyed a cookie cake. And.it.was.delicious. Unfortunately the cake was consumed before I thought to snap a picture, but luckily my Uncle Chris made this beautiful cake for me later in the week when I visited my Charleston family for a second celebration. What can I say, I’m one lucky and loved girl. Happy belated birthday to me.