Seventeen Again

The date of my birth is located somewhere in this picture I took on Pacific Coast Hwy.
So I'm either 23 or 1652 years old.

My mama turned 50 today. She was born on Mother’s day. She has six brothers and sisters. Uncle Jim was born on Thanksgiving, Aunt Sandra was Christmas Eve, and Uncle Jeff was New Years Eve. They are a family of holidays. I have absolutley no idea the significance of any of that. But it’s a cool thing to mention if your conversation ever hits a lull.

Example:

Fellow party goer: “So …um, I hear they’re repaving the road across from Walma-“

Me: “ALL OF MY AUNTS AND UNCLES HAVE HOLIDAY BIRTHDAYS.”

I’ve been known to be awkward at parties. And by awkward I mean the life of the party.

So anyways, my mama decided to spend this joyous halfway mark at the mall … ehhh. I mean, the mall is ok for like, 10 minutes and then I’m over it. HARD. I don’t know why I don’t share the passion for twitting around their little commercial domes that most people possess — I just don’t. Maybe it was all the countless childhood hours I had to spend with my mom in the dressing room at JCPenny watching her try on one shoulder-padded monstrousity after the next while my little 5 year-old body wanted to explode with boredom. I was five and I knew shoulder pads were a bad choice — FIVE.

Plus, half the population of Earth was there today. You heard me right — 3.5 BILLION PEOPLE WERE SHOPPING AT THE ROSEVILLE GALLERIA. It made parking super difficult.

Also, I tried to (finally) buy a cover for my iPhone but as it turns out, about three-quarters of the population I quoted above was actually shopping in the Apple store so that was good times. Two hours after entering the iEmporium, I actually managed to squeeze my way to the phone-cover section. As my eager eyes grazed over the endless choices that lay before me I began to feel joy. It was the sort of joy one can only experience immediately prior to overspending for something you definitley don’t need. But then I felt despair. The sort of despair you experience upon realizing that they don’t make iPhone covers for a 3GS anymore.

And then I saw it. The single cover left that was made specifically for my little outdated electronic device. It was really ugly though. BUT I CARED NOT. As I reached out for it’s slightly scratched box and lifted it from its hook, the hook decided to come with it — and then subsequently fall off taking out all the covers that lay below/in its path. And if anyone of you ever wonders how you silence 2.625 billion people then you should just go ahead and follow the exact steps I have outlined above. And yes, I did just have to get a calculator to figure out what 75% of 3.5 was because math is in the axis of evil. Everyone knows that.

Needless to say I handled the situation flawlessly. And by that I mean I acted like I didn’t do it and left immediately.

Oh and I found out that my mom doesn’t know how old I am exactly. So if she asks, tell her I’m 17. Or maybe 31 … I can’t decide.

Happy Birthday mama ;)