Well just as I’m ready to start blogging again, our internet dies.
It just stopped working on Sunday night.
And so here I sit in the technological dark ages, typing this post into a Word document. If you’re reading this, it means that Mr. Comcast finally arrived at our apartment and set the Working Girlz on the straight and narrow once again.
I celebrated my birthday this past weekend. I turned the big two four on Saturday, and kicked the occasion off with a bang in the form of spending three hours at the DMV to get my new driver’s license. In Pennsylvania licenses are renewed every six years, so the license I had was from when I was just a babe, aka 18 years old. It was still a vertical license, which signified that it was issued before my 21st birthday, but this birthday meant I was finally old enough to get the grown up horizontal license.
I got to the DMV, reapplied my lip gloss, and walked in ready for my close up. There was a sign in the lobby asking patrons to take a number.
I was #26.
They were on #5.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.
When my number was finally, AND I DO MEAN FINALLY, called, I marched proudly up to the desk and handed my credentials to the woman behind the counter. She shuffled through my paperwork and then looked right at me and said, “Well honey, you don’t look nearly old enough for a big girl license.”
Thank you. Thank you so much. That’s not something I hear ALL THE TIME.
Nevertheless, I smiled for the camera and waited for my new license to print, eager to get a look at the photo I would be seeing until 2018. And here it is.
And all I have to say is that it’s a darn shame that I couldn’t find any big earrings to wear.
I went to my parents’ for dinner on my birthday. We had my favorite meal and I opened some presents. You know you’re not a kid anymore when you get pot holders and spatulas for your birthday.
HOW’S THAT FOR BEING A BIG GIRL, WOMAN AT THE DMV?
On Sunday I went food shopping. I picked a few recipes for the week and hit the store armed with a list of exactly what I needed to buy, organized by aisle. I know what you’re thinking. MY WHAT A 24 YEAR OLD THING TO DO.
The weekend ended on a high note, and by that I mean Michelle and I devoted several hours to proving/disproving the Birthday Paradox, aka the theory if you get 23 people in one room, at least two people will have the same birthday. Well, thanks to Wikipedia and an overabundance of free time, we now know that the birthday paradox is accurate about 65% of the time, and that Nascar drivers, Cuba Gooding Junior, and Jennifer Aniston have an awful lot in common.
And then the internet died.
Perhaps it was a sign that we had too much time on our hands and it was time to do something more productive.
Like use my new cooking tools.
Or go earring shopping.