powered by the cute and insane

Oh, good lordy, y'all.

I'm just worn out. It's been the best birthday celebration ever.

Between the fancy Indian food, the multiple vodka sodas, the gifts, the Prosecco, the peanut butter and jelly cake, the multiple walks across bridges, the shopping-'til-dropping, the sleeping on floors, the shoulder rubs from Scarny (the most action I've had in a while), the shrimp enchiladas, the 2 Live Crew, the wasabi peas, the tulips, the Steve Keene art, and the bloodys, I need a vacation to recover from my elation.

If you want to see a ridiculous amount of pictures of me either attempting to kiss my friends and/or look sassy and/or keep from passing out (unsuccessfully) check it here.

Maybe more about the plentiful good times later, but sheesh: some people say they have the best friends in the world, but it's the damn truth for me. I'm a lucky bitch.

(A lucky 30-year-old bitch who's happy to live in Brooklyn and who will still rock a babydoll dress [despite being almost 6 feet tall in heels] and some bangs on a birthday.)

Ahem, "thaaaaaat's niiiiiice!"