Boo Hoo Sniff Sniff

I love birthdays. I think the celebration should last at least a week. I think you should have your favorite food and go to your favorite places and be pampered while doing your favorite things. After all, this is the anniversary of your entrance into this world, and your birthday should involve at least one favorite something, anything.

Mr. Lipstick doesn't see it this way. He thinks this is childish, ridiculous, and bothersome. He becomes exasperated and I become sad.

This year is...(drumroll)...the same. So I have decided to make an executive decision and purchase my own cake. I will even be purchasing my own presents. I will not be wrapping the as-yet-to-be-purchased presents because that is a lot of trouble and kind of crazy. So everyone is cordially invited to my pity party. The mood will eventually be light, and pajamas are as welcome as high heels. There may be preferential treatment at the velvet rope for attendees wearing lipstick. If you bring Sly Stallone to me, then you can just have my birthday altogether.

ETA: Mr. Lipstick just walked in and said, "kids or no kids?" Uh...huh, what? Well, y'all we are going to Melting Pot and we are having a babysitter. Whoo hoo! Is it tacky to say, "Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me"?