So this birthday was something new, something I haven't had in a long time. This birthday had friends. Plus it was a surprise party. Love the ladies around me who organized this and somehow managed to involve my kiddos (who didn't spill the beans).
I read today that this is Neil Gaiman's wedding anniversary. I think I should contact him and see if we can merge our celebrations next year. What d'ya think?
I was going to go into this ghost of birthdays past thing... but nope. Moving forward.
Now I have a fridge full of snack food, a week off work and the kids' father is not taking them for 6 days, so more time with them. Looking forward to reintroducing our home education routine slowly and with lots of cuddles.
So, there will be no reflections today, no lessons or inner discoveries. Just me eating cake, salsa dancing next to my friend and drinking my mutant poison. Oh didn't I tell you? Alcohol proves I'm a mutant because it turns mutants' faces red. I read it on the Internet so it must be true. I was kinda hoping my mutant ability would be something cool, like being able to cook ravioli in a can just using my mind, but instead it's being able to look incredibly embarrassed despite NOT being embarrassed. When I'm out crime fighting I like to keep the bad guys guessing: Is she embarrassed? Is she not embarrassed? How will we ever truly know??? Then in the confusion my fellow mutants can mount a surprise attack. I just have to keep some baby duck in my pleather utility belt at all times. Problem is my body actually breaks alcohol down into a mild poison, so the very essence that makes my incredible mutant power possible is also slowly killing me... ( or making me nauseous and giving me headaches before an actual hangover would appear.). Yet, I choose to use my mutant powers for the good of all, despite the horrible toll it takes on my body. Because I'm a hero like that.