Monday, May 19, 2008
HALF A CENTURY OLD SPECIMEN!!!
Yep! You read it right. Half a century old specimen! Right away, you're asking yourselves, what dinosaur specimen is Tasha talking about? Not so fast, my cyber friends. Half a century may sound like a prehistoric age, but not in my dictionary. And the dinosaur specimen you are thinking of is me! Sad to say, but true. I'm already brooding over this milestone I have reached. So, don't make it any worse than I already feel. Besides, dinosaurs are full of wrinkles; not me.
I'm officially 50 years old this month, and already, I received a welcome message from the American Association of Retired Persons (AARP). Do you know that according to the AARP, I'm already a senior citizen? Unless I start cashing in on my senior citizen discounts, I say, I'm still a JUNIOR citizen. Lol. How could this group say that I'm already a senior citizen when everybody I know thinks otherwise? Anyway, I should not fret what AARP says. I trust what the people around me say.
The Saturday before my birthday, my sister treated me to a nice breakfast at Shari's Restaurant. My sister came by the house at 9:00 a.m. She and I left my husband and daughter playing Rock Band--my husband with the guitar and my daughter with the drums. When we arrived at Shari's, we ordered our food. We drank lots of coffee with tons of creamer. I looked outside and it was snowing heavily. "For heaven's sake!" I said, "It's in the middle of May!"
"That's Wyoming," my sister said. "Don't you remember one year? It snowed in July?"
"It must have been one of the years we were vacationing somewhere." We drank some more coffee. In between sips, we chatted and gossipped. We took our time eating our food. By the time we knew it, it was already 11:30, and the snow finally stopped.
We left Shari's and drove to the mall. We shopped till we dropped. I bought a lot of clothes, and they were all for me. It was kind of selfish of me, I know, but I was enjoying myself spending money just for me that day. So, spent, I did. When we finished, we stopped at one of the food places at the mall and ordered some icecream and some pretzels. The time was already 3:00 p.m. We were suppose to get our nails done, but with me not having slept from working the night before and still having to go to work that night, my sister decided that she should take me home so I can go to sleep. I agreed.
While unlocking the front door, I could feel my body was so ready to crash on the bed as soon as I got inside the house. But as soon as I opened the door, I was greeted with a: "Surprise!" The house was full of people. Our neighbors were here. Some people from work were here. Relatives were here. And my friends were here. My first reaction was total shock. I cried. I never once suspected that my husband was giving me a surprise birthday party. My sister and daughter were in cahoots with him all this time.
My husband and daughter had to work triple time to clean and decorate the house and then to pick up the food and beverages. Yes, my husband gave me 50 balloons. I'm glad he didn't give me 50 different gifts to unwrap. It took me at least an hour to unwrap the 49 gifts he gave me last year. So, I told him to please Not to do the same this year. As much as I appreciate receiving presents, that was a bit much.
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