Birthday Wishes

So Monday was my birthday. The day marking the monumental 25th birthday has come and gone with less pomp and circumstance than an ego-centric, attention-loving person such as myself would hope for in her wildest dreams. And thus begins what I have decided will be the best year of my life to date. Highlights: Emily made me a birthday cake (How freaking cute is she?! Fifteen-year-old following in her older sister's footsteps, improvising cake recipes and everything.) My other sister (Al) made me an ottoman. And not, as you may be imagining, a piece of wood nailed to some planks. It looks like it should be sold at Target, nay, Pottery Barn, on third thought, it is way too cool for all of those places. For dinner, we went out for Thai food at Thai Spice. Yum. Emily ordered phad thai--and liked it. She said while looking at the menu, "I don't like Chinese food." What?! Who doesn't like Americanized Chinese food? It's fried and loaded with sugar and salt. After we teased her for being too picky, I thought we were in trouble for sure. But she ate nearly half of the phad thai and left the remainder in my fridge.

Here's an almost really cute photo of me and Megan. Except for my wonky eye!!!! Which I totally deserve because just last night I was making fun of this girl-who-dated-this-boy-I-really-liked's eye while looking at her facebook profile. Karma.

Al and I both ordered green curry, which was good and spicy (but not this spicy). And while it was good and savory and everything great about green curry, it's still not Pee Lek's green curry. No one makes green curry like your adopted Thai mother.

You may be scrolling through these photos and thinking "Wow, it looks like Lainey and her sisters and roommate are having a splendid time." (We did). "But where are her parents?" Strange, where are those sires on such a momentus occasion? Did Lainey finally achieve her lifelong dream of becoming an orphan just like her childhood heroes Annie, Anne of Green Gables and Heidi? No. The padres skipped town on a "much needed" holiday to swoosh down ski slopes and purchase cowboy boots in Steamboat Springs, Colo. Before I am the recipient of an enormous guilt trip in a few hours (Does this post hit too close to home? Is it too soon?), let me digress.

My birthday is never fails to turn into a giant family drama, pitting me against my dear-and-loving mother with my sisters caught in the middle and my dad (the supposed) true cause of it all (not sure I believe that). Last year on my birthday we were in the car for 12 hours (granted it was on the way to go skiing in Colorado ... details). The year before that, hey, it was pretty good. The year before that--another 12-hour car ride. The year before that, January blizzard that shut down the entire city.

I, of course, never miss a chance to make these people feel bad about slighting me on the one day a year that we can universally acknowledge is all about me. But seriously, I get the shaft (except for those legendary birthday parties sledding at Mahoney State Park back in elementary school).

Now, I know that my birthday comes on the day that the holidays are officially over. Everybody is going back to school/work. It's cold out. We've all eaten more than we should, shopped more than we like and gone to more parties than is reasonable. Yet I reserve the right to be irritated that my padres left town on purpose (maybe), so they didn't have to celebrate. And weren't even nice about it.

My one consolation: knowing that they would have had way more fun on vacation with me and my sisters because we are hilarious.

And here's a random photo of icing ...