I have a lot of friends with August birthdays, and of course John and I have our birthdays then. I missed a couple of them, I think; I seem to be getting progressively worse at remembering to buy cards. So Alun, Kymm, Doug, Diane, and Bryan, here's a homemade chocolate devil's food cake for all of you. It's pretty yummy. We tested it out just to make sure. My own birthday dessert, which I did not take a photo of, was the most enormous Key Lime pie I have ever seen. It was at least 12 inches in diameter, and it was sinfully delicious. It's taken me an entire week to eat my share. Meanwhile, I realized I never showed you the extremely nifty birthday presents I received. Click on the thumbnail pictures if you want to have a look.
The post-birthday week was an unusually busy one. I went out after work four days out of five. La vida loca, baby!
Monday was not particularly amusing, but I thought I ought to see an ob/gyn again after seven years, and since I was there I got a mammogram, also for the first time in seven years. It's such a strange process, running thither and yon for each appointment when dealing with a large medical facility. This building is Radiology, that building is Family Practice, over the river and through the woods is the Women's Clinic. I felt an absurd amount of relief simply for having finally gone to see the doctors. I can't let it go seven years again. Although I am always in perfect health, I'm entering the danger zone for breast cancer and other female-specific problems due to my age. Whee.
Tuesday I went out with my co-workers, something I rarely agree to. This was worth it, though. We went to Color Me Mine, a paint it yourself ceramics shop. They provide the prepped clay objects and paints, you slap on coats of paint in hopes of getting your pot or candlestick to turn into a masterpiece. It's art as therapy, and it's really fun even if the colors I think I'm applying always look rather different after firing. The hardest part for me is knowing when to stop. I'm kind of a detailing fiend.
Wednesday I had booked a massage, and I was looking forward to it quite a bit. Unfortunately, the masseuse was more inclined towards aligning my chakras rather than doing the deep tissue work I had in mind. It was pleasant and relaxing, but it just wasn't what I thought I was going to get. I prefer a sports massage: body work, not woowoo. Her tinkly taped music was probably designed to cleanse my chi, or my aura, or something.
The best part was she offered to give me a ride home when she found out I planned to take the bus. It was an interesting ride since she shared her life history with me, recounting her former career as a real estate agent in the 80's. She and her husband sounded like classic Yuppies, acquiring material goods at a fantastic rate, then giving it all up to become massage therapists (her) and yoga instructors (him). It set off lots of memories of my own experiences during that decade. I wasn't a Yuppie but I had a very 80's job as a paralegal, and I fully embraced the culture, that's for sure. I still remember wearing running shoes and socks over my nylons under my power suits as I went to and from work, carrying my pumps in my duffel bag.
Thursday I had dinner in the city with Tater, our mutual friend Amelia, and a couple of her friends. We met for drinks at the Metreon, which is well worth seeing as it's a huge entertainment complex a la Bladerunner. The bar at the Airtight Garage (quick, name the reference!) was super noisy mostly due to the music and sound effects from the the video games surrounding us. I shouted for a while, then gave up and smiled meaningfully whenever someone looked in my direction and moved their lips. For eats, we went to an old favorite restaurant, La Rondalle in the Mission. Tragically, that was also hellishly noisy. I developed a headache and after shouting my conversation for 20 minutes I stopped speaking again. When the Mariachi band started tuning up I made a break for the door. Aaaaaaah! Not the Mariachi band! Amelia gave me a ride home and dished all the dirt on Tater. They went to high school together, so there was plenty to dish.
Friday was blessedly quiet. I brought home a couple of books on crewel work as I am designing a linen pattern for a friend who belongs to the SCA. She can't draw, and I can't sew, but I think I can make a pattern she can follow. I don't quite know what a gryphon's face should look like, though.
Maybe she'd like a nice heraldic tapir.
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