How you know you're celebrating too hard:

1.) You have no idea where you are.
2.) Neither does the pig, wearing your pants.

Fortunately, I didn't party hard enough to get lost or let a pig (or wolf) steal (or remove) my pants.

When you get old birthdays are pretty much what you expect them to be. Mine was, for the most part, what I expected.

Spent the morning at the barn, attended a wedding reception, had a lovely dinner with the Rental Units at a fancy pantsy restaurant downtown. Fetched a coffee, met the Ideal Roomie (and some others) at the bar and then proceeded to Owen to see some of my old mates.

My mother even called me at 1am to see if I was drunk and needed a ride home. I couldn't believe it. I was standing on the front steps of Owen, as un-drunk as I could ever be, staring at my ringing phone ("Home").

[This event was proceeded by a Pretentious Drunk Boy attempting to tell me that Jane Austen is a waste of time. Knowing that attempting to argue with pretentious drunk people is a fruitless attempt at burning calories I had stood biting my tongue, because, afterall, JA and I had a forced but somewhat intriguing love-hate relationship (oh 313, how I don't miss you!). Anyhow, not only did Pretentious Drunk Boy realize he somewhat offended me (which is surprising at his level of drunkenness), he attempted to win me over by informing me that he could name all of the Kings of England from some dude until the Tudors (or something like that). I raised my eyebrows in concern as he began reciting, thinking that I was going to have to spend the next 10 minutes listening to his, um, list.]

Then mum called. I did a little shimmy-shake dance in my pants, which I found myself still wearing (could I get any cheesier?!) and scurried away from the PDB.

But, what we really care about is all the stuff on my birthday list that I didn't get... but I can give and take and am honestly happy with what was received, and unexpected.

In short:
- a gigantic map of Southern Africa (from B.rock, so I can decide where I want to live or just because she couldn't afford to buy me a plane ticket, aw thanks buddy!)
- running shoes
- big, big poster prints of photos I took of CPT (thanks JR!)
- phone calls, from the RSA, Italy, and Ohio (aw, I felt so loved.)
- Calamity Physics (because the Rental Units want me to be an author)
- lotion (I swear to god, lotion.)
- a CD (that I haven't listened to...yet...)
- a gift certificate for a 1 hour full body massage (*sigh* tough life, eh?)

So I have no complaints. My fam is awesome, I have some great friends, and getting a little older isn't so bad.

Thus, I have concluded that 22 was a great year around the sun.