Birthday Blues

I drove a total of 3 hours and shelled out 15 bucks in gas just to celebrate my birthday with my family. At least it was pretty on the way up there:




We ate at a Japanese restaraunt called Wasabi. Japanese dinning is always fab, but it sucks when your family pulls out a big-ass birthday cake and stays for 2 more hours.



I did, however, get lots of cash and my #1 birthday present from my little sister: a homemade card complete with a glued-on Polly Pocket pocket book (a prized possession for her) and a pair of Eeoyre socks that say, "This is my happy face." Very fitting given my bitchy disposition yesterday.



I was half-crazed on the way home, and I kept getting shit like this:



The trucker directly in front of me, by the way, had written, "Be a flirt, lift shirt" with his finger in the dirt on his truck. Classy.

I did find some solace in #7 from The Murmurs. I attempted to link the song to the picture below for your listening pleasure. Let me know if it worked.




This weekend I'm curling up in my new down comforter from IKEA and reading the Half Blood Prince.