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.