I kicked off my birth week on Saturday with a hat-themed, all ladies birthday brunch at Rosebud. I think the photo below, from Blunt Card (my new favorite website), sums up the plan for the day:

There were twelve of us altogether and let me start by saying that the staff at Rosebud is just awesome.  We had two more people than anticipated (12 instead of 10), but even on a busy Saturday, they wrangled things around so that we could all fit and be accommodated at our original reservation time. Our waiter was awesome and just the right amount of attentive. The drinks were flowing freely, the food was amazing and boy-o-boy did our hats draw some attention. I’m pretty sure a good time was had by all. I certainly enjoyed it.

Group photo time -- we were still missing two ladies at this point. Thanks to RouxBarb for the photo!

Let me stop at this point to mention the fact that I have a lot of really awesome lady friends. It’s so nice to be surrounded by a group of strong, independent women in their 30s-40s-50s (mom). You should all be so lucky. I used to be one of those girls who had more guy friends than girlfriends and that was great in my twenties, but as we (women) grow up (and older), I think it’s super important to have a circle of girlfriends on whom you can depend (even if it’s just knowing that you can depend on them for a good time!).

I’ll spend the rest of my birth week celebrating with family (mom, dad and the nephews will come up on the actual day for some mexican and margaritas at my long-time favorite Los Loros); going to see one of my favorite authors, Karin Slaughter, with G at a book signing (nice of her to arrange the Atlanta leg of her tour for my birth week); getting the nephews overnight on Saturday (Atlanta History Center here we come!) and capping it off with anAtlanta Braves‘ home game on July 4 – complete with fireworks (again, nice of them to do that during my birth week).

And yes. I know that’s more than a week of activities, but birth week sounds so much better than birth nine days AND I don’t like math, remember?

So, thirty-four here I come. I’m rolling out all the stops to welcome you, so you better treat me right!


So, I’ve moved and am settled and the kitchen is unpacked and I’m ready to hop back on this recipe train. Of course, as I say this I realize that my year-long project is almost at an end. We started strong and faltered towards the end (I blame crazy work and moving), but never fear. The project may be coming to and end, but this blog will continue. I’ll still post recipes and rantings and random musings and we’ll keep the crazy party train going in the land of b.

Just so you know that I’m not fooling, here’s the recipe for an anti-pasta pasta salad that I made tonight. I’m officially in love.

1 lb. whole wheat fusilli, cooked al dente and cooled
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small to medium jar fire roasted red peppers, sliced into bite sized pieces
1/2 jar kalamata olives, halved
1 package Athenos traditional feta cheese, crumbled
1/2 package Genoa salami, chunked
1/3 to 1/2 bottle Newman’s Own Balsamic vinaigrette.

Combine all ingredients and chill. Enjoy as a meal or as a side dish. I eat it as both.

There is more to come tomorrow (rantings on the move, funny stories about pictures, my first trip back to YDFM and more). See you then!

{June 8, 2011}   Calling All Cardigans

Sorry I’ve been MIA lately. Things have been crazy. And by crazy, I mean I’m moving this weekend and have been spending every spare minute packing boxes. Now that the boxes are packed and I’m living in my apartment like it’s a hotel (no dishes that aren’t disposable, a suitcase full of clothes), I can take a deep breath and get ready for the upcoming change.

When I first moved back to Atlanta, I lived in Decatur. I loved it. It’s my speed and very much my style. Then G came along with a shoddy job (thanks to an asshat boss and a bad economy), so we moved to Vinings to be near his work. Bleh. Don’t get me wrong, I like Vinings well enough, but it’s no Decatur. And it’s FAR (read that with a very long whine on the “r”). Two weeks after we move, of course, G gets a new job out in Gwinnett, so it’s really, super, mega far. After two years of living FAR, I just couldn’t take it anymore and we’re moving back to Decatur.

My negotiating points were: 1) It will save G 20 miles a day; 2) It will save me 12 miles a day; 3) Decatur is greater; and 4) I won’t shut up until we move, so you may as well let me have my way. It wasn’t actually a hard sell, as G pretty much lets me have my way when it comes to habitat. I’m a VERY particular creature when it comes to where I will and won’t live and G could live in a box and be happy. After the ups and downs of apartment shopping in what is probably the most expensive apartment market in the history of the world ever, I found THE place. It’s right on the corner of the neighborhood that I want to live in for permanent one day (the same neighborhood, but not apartment complex, that I used to live in pre-G). It’s close to work. It’s close to my favorite Mexican restaurant (with the best margaritas). It’s close to some of my favorite peeps (RouxBarb, Carrie, I’m looking at you two). So, change into your favorite cardigan, Mr. Rogers. I’m going to be your neighbor.

Also, did I mention, it’s close to…G’s school!

That’s right folks, G has finally started school. I know I mentioned this a few blogs back, but it’s for real started now. He’s in class practically every day and cramming in homework between class and school and way to little sleep. Working 50 hours a week and going to school full time is going to be an intense challenge, but it’s been done before by others and I’m certain he’ll rock it out as soon as he gets back in the groove of school. Speaking of grooves, I’m certain I told Taye Diggs I needed to get my groove back, but he hasn’t shown up yet. Sigh. Back to my point. G’s in school and it’s exciting and OMG I am totally feeling OLD.

You see, I was a college freshman 16 years ago. We were only JUST getting computers on campus and no one really new much about the internet and email was something we had, but we didn’t know what to do with it. There were maybe six computers in the library if anyone wanted to type (instead of hand write) their papers, but that was it. Research was done in a library, with a card catalog and old, dusty books. Meanwhile in G’s first class, which is some kind of introduction to writing (I dunno for sure, it’s confusing as I skipped all of those early English classes and have no real frame of reference), takes place in a computer lab. This just doesn’t compute (ba dum dum, pun TOTALLY intended). My inability to grasp this simple concept makes me feel like a dinosaur. As if I should have a beard and a cane and liver spots and in a trembly voice be saying “when I was your age sonny, we had to walk to school in six feet of snow, uphill, both ways, backwards.” No bueno. I mean, I’ll be 34 in a couple of weeks, but I’m not 80.

Guess it’s time to get some fresh color (to cover those telltale greys), some new digs and a facial to rejuvinate my attitude. Thirty-four is the new twenty. Or better yet, thirty-four is the new thirty-four and thirty-four is awesome damn it.

et cetera