My birthday festivities actually started yesterday when Trisha asked if I could meet her in her office for lunch because she had to wait for someone who was going to be late but really it was so she could give me a gift. Art supplies! It is so touching to have friends that think my meagre skills are worth pursuing. Later on in the afternoon Victor called me up even though he had laryingitis (sp?) and could barely talk. That is a true fucking friend I tell you. After work I took the train with Sue and Trisha out to Whitby who took me to dinner and for cake and then we went and hung out at Trisha’s place. Nadira, her daughter (age 2), sang me Happy Birthday which was really, really adorable, considering she had no idea who the hell I was.
I caught the 11:47 train back to Toronto and I have to say it was definitely one of the creepiest moments of my life as I was the only person in all three levels of my car. By the time I got home it was nearly one in the morning and Kevin felt that since it was officially my birthday I should open presents. There was a really pretty dichroic glass pendant and Crocs. I don’t know if they say, "this is a milestone birthday" but I was happy about the Crocs. I just thought they were really ugly shoes until Monday when Jules forcibly shoved my feet into hers and I became one of the converted. [She felt I needed a pair for camping because they float – that damn canoe story is going to follow me around for the rest of my life! Good grief, you capsize the canoe one time and you never hear the end of it!]
I’d been trying to figure out what I wanted to do on the day of my 30th birthday practically since I turned 29. I wanted to go to Montreal. I wanted to rent a cottage with a bunch of friends. I wanted to have a huge house party. In the end, I just kind of wanted to do something quiet and personal. We drove to Highway 2 Tattoo on Kingston Road not really expecting to get in because we hadn’t made an appointment. Luckily they’d had some cancellations and could fit us in. I’d been looking through Barry Chapman’s portfolio (super!) – he’s done some of my cousin’s tattoos – but didn’t have any hope that I’d be lucky enough to have him do mine because the guy told me, "Oh Barry doesn’t do small pieces anymore." In the end, it was either a birthday miracle or my piece is gigantic, perhaps a combination, but Barry did my tattoo:
That’s No. 4, if you’re counting (some people are). I’d had a general idea of what I was looking for when I walked in and it was fairly significantly different from this but I was totally confident in Barry so as long as it incorporated a dragon, a star and my maiden name I was comfortable just letting him do his thing. He dug his design so much he asked if he could take a picture of it for his book. I like it too.
And then we had some cake at my parents:
My mom was happy that she got a real shot of me blowing out the candles this year instead of the stupid posed one I usually do. She didn’t put thirty candles on the cake. She didn’t want to burn the place down.
The plan was to meet up with Debra at a bar to watch Game 6. Ingrid and Trennon joined us after awhile and it was quite a lot of fun – except that Carolina didn’t really come through for me on my birthday. It’s okay Carolina. I know you want to win the Cup at home so I forgive you. At the end of the night, we were sort of hanging around the car chatting with Debra, who was still wearing her Hartford jersey, when this totally wasted guy comes stumbling towards us (Ingrid, I am SO sorry you missed this!) and says, "Hey! Why are you wearing a Hartford Whalers jersey anyway?"
"Ohh it’s a long story …" said Debra. It is, we’d already heard it.
"You got a number on the back of that thing?"
"Well, I was thinking, if Carolina wins I might …"
"Cause, it should say "Number 1 Sexy" if you don’t!"
Oh my God! Ahh, it truly made my birthday complete. Seriously. So good.