Tip Toe in the Tulips

I can't wait for tomorrow! Why? It's my birthday!! I love my birthday! I love birthdays. Mine, my fiends, my parents, kids, co-workers. I love the idea of one day all about ME! or YOU! or whoever is having the birthday. Well my best friend Kitty , the bestest real life best friend EVER sent me my birthday present today. I've been asking her every time i talk if she mailed my gift yet. She always said no. Well she's tricky. Today I received FLOWERS! Yes. I got flowers. At Work. for all the see and envy! Finally. It's my turn! I love it. I happen to be standing up front when the Royers flower truck pulled up in front of the door. I did what I always do i whispered over and over, "Maybe they are for me". They never are. NEVER. Well this time they were! I was so excited! Thanks BEST FRIEND! Does this mean I HAVE to sign up for snapfish now?

Please don't mind the random arm, it's mine. My pretty birthday flowers!!!!

So While at the bar Saturday night I seemed to catch the eye of the old guy next to me. He yapped all night about nothing and everything. Bought me a beer and offered to buy me a shot, but I passed. Nice enough guy. He said the words that are always muttered after meeting me in real life, "You don't smile much do you?". My famous answer, "not really". look I smile. I smile plenty. I just don't feel the need to sit around with a smile plastered onto my face. Usually I'm having a good time. usually. Just because I'm not smiling some Prozac endorsement or all hopped up on happiness like those weird happy moms you see that all smiles, doesn't mean I'm not happy. I'm thrilled. I just don't understand how happy I was supposed to be talking to a 51 year old married man who's son was there also. Odd.

Last week I encountered the weird guy at the gym. This guy is always there, but i usually steer clear of him because he's weird. He is. I'm sorry. But he is. He WALKS on the treadmill at 4 mph. walking so FAST he's basically running. But he NEVER actually runs. It's weird. Well last week he got on the treadmill right next to me and was doing his weird shit. I just looked straight ahead and watched the today while rocking out to some foreigner on my Mp3 player. Well weird guy keeps looking at me. looking hard like I should look at him. No thanks. I'm good. but he wouldn't stop looking at me. Now he's literally 8 inches away from me walking his crazy fast walking run shit and staring at me. Like it's his job! Then he starts looking down. No. Not even down at my boobs, which put on their own little show when i run. Nope he looks down at the control panel and checks out what I'm doing. Alright weirdo that is it. Look at me, look at my boobs bounce, look at my fat butt shake. But. do not. Look. At. My information. That's just weird. Worry about why it is your walking so damn fast if you just picked your foot up an inch more it would be a run. Worry about that weirdo.

TUNE IN TOMORROW FOR THE BIG BIRTHDAY POST!