Yesterday (2/13) was my birthday. My twenty-seventh birthday. I am officially old as shit. And I don't even care. About the being old as shit part, I cared that it was my birthday.... ok, no I didn't care that it was my birthday, but people tend to have a way of making you feel special.
And by people, I mean your loved ones.... especially your mom.
Also, I found out that I have the same birthday as one of my absolute favorite bloggers/authors (ten years apart, so.... win?!).
Or, my mom, at least. Yesterday was pretty much the same as all the other days (work.... life.... trying to avoid the looming clouds of misery), with the exception that I was a year older than last. I had a normal work day and when I got home, Momma and Bubba took me out for supper (food = yum). I even drove and made Bubba put air in my tires.... because why in the hell not?! And then Momma and I spent the evening watching The Walking Dead and a documentary that I'm going to have to restart, because my attention span was minuscule last night. Also, FB.
Pertaining to the picture of Momma and I: She can't believe that her youngest is officially twenty-seven. Apparently, it was only yesterday that she told me to be nice to the boys on the playground and quit swinging upside down on the monkey bars while I was wearing a dress. She makes each Birthday the best and always better than the one before. I love you, Momma.
My thoughts on turning twenty-seven:
Lady Gaga at twenty-seven: Multi-platinum recording artist, touring the world, raising awareness for anti-bullying campaigns, consistently banging Taylor Kinney on a regular basis. Me at twenty-seven: Where is it?! I know that shoe is around here somewhere. Twenty-seven, it is.
As for the flowers, Uncle Roger gave me those for Valentine's Day today (apparently people who aren't dead inside celebrate that?). And then, a couple of my favorite birthday notes from friends.... not all of them, but a few here and there. Here's to another year of keeping it real.
Real interesting and weird, that is.