Happy Birthday to Me

30. Come and gone. Just.Like.That.

I've been 30 for 2 weeks now. I haven't had a chance to enjoy it. I haven't had a chance to reflect on it. write about it. revel in it. I've been busy.

So here it is. My celebration of turning 30.

The party was great, the guests even better. A few photos of the event.

Jason and his lovely date
The wonderful MSU girls
The Analogers, along with JP.
The Fab Four, Boston editionThe greatest man ever.

The bubbly Stephen bought us for a proper celebration on the b-day.

In Just a Few Days

On Sunday I turn the big 3-0. People have been asking if I'm excited, and the truth is that I've been so busy I haven't had the chance to get stoked about turning 30.

I feel like I've been anxiously waiting to turn 30 since I turned 21. Heck, it's probably even been longer than that. I can recall being a teenager and my step-mom telling me how great your 30s are, and me wanting to be 30 so I could get to the great part of my life.

Well, here it is and I just want to say that my 20s were pretty great, so if my 30s will be even better then I am eagerly looking forward to celebrating each blessing.

Cape Codder

Stephen and I are notorious for not taking advantage of the many gifts around us here in Boston. Example: we've been in Boston for over a year-and-a-half (he's been here longer but it doesn't count since I wasn't here yet) and we've never been to the Cape. Yep. THAT Cape.

Well, I'm proud to say that's no longer the case. We've officially weekend at the Cape.

My pal Mark was visiting friends from Texas who SUMMER IN THE CAPE, and they were kind enough to invite us for the weekend.

Chatham Beach

goofing around

boating on Bass River

on the beach watching kite surfers

Just one more thing we can knock off our "to see/to do" list. Oh, and did you notice the sunshine? Yep, it's finally coming out. Summer in Boston is finally here.

Just a Teeny Rant

*Engaged friends, don't read too much into this.

Many of you know how much I want to be married.And most of you know that since December seemingly everyone I know (and tons of people I know through association) have gotten engaged. Everyone. But. Me.

And this is starting to wear on me. Every wedding detail I hear about is another smack to my non-wedding-planning face. Don't get me wrong. I am SO happy for you friends and I WANT to be part of your special day and hear about all your wedding craziness. I also know that when it finally does happen for me, I will be the one talking non-stop.

I am just taking this moment to voice my frustration at once again feeling like I'm the only one who isn't there yet.

Another One Bites the Dust

Sending very warm congratulations to my pal Becky on her recent good news. I love her and John dearly, especially since John is the dark-haired version of Stephen.

Don't believe me? These two started a bromance when Becky came to visit that was sparked by a shared love for "Battlestar Galactica" and a passion for video games (go figure.)

So congrats again Becky. Wishing you and John a lifetime of happiness! I can't wait to celebrate with you!

Wish Me Luck

We're hosting Stephen's mom, sister and 7 year-old niece for the 4th of July weekend. You should have seen us grocery shopping - trying to figure out what to buy for the distinct tastes of a kid:
jello versus pudding
should we get chocolate milk?
Do you think she'd like fruit snacks?

Two calls and a text to his mom and sister (mother of the 7 year-old) we learned that his niece doesn't like avocados or black beans.

I may be over thinking this, but these are future family members (in theory, not reality... yet) and I want to make a great impression.

So wish me luck!

The Way You Make Me Feel

I was five when Thriller caught my attention, and every time it came on MTV (you know, back in the day when MTV was actually music.television?) I sat spellbound. That's no small feat for ADD-riddled kids who can't sit still for .5 seconds, let alone for the duration of a music video that went on FOR. E. VER.

I loved Thriller so much I named my cat Jackson. She was a rescue that a creepy lady went door-to-door offering to the first person who would say yes. How could my parents say no to a little girl begging for this kitty? Jackson was black with a white underbelly - literally black and white. How ironic when you think about it, no?

So when I think about Michael Jackson's death, it's not so much about him than it is for my first cat that I loved so much. My own little black and white thriller.