jamelah.net

step one: wake up early
Though I wake up early every weekday so I can get ready for work, I figured that since it was a Saturday and my birthday and all, I’d get to sleep late, until oh, 8:30. But it was not to be. No, the phone rang at 7:50 a.m., allowing me to have this conversation:

me: Hello?
guy: Kristin?
me: Um. (Think. Is my name Kristin?) No.
guy: (hangs up)

step two: think about the future
Using FutureMe.org, wrote an e-mail to myself which will be sent a year from now. It made me cry just a little bit.

step three: get lost
My friend Stacy and I headed to Grand Rapids for the weekend, and part of our itinerary included pedicures at a day spa. When consulting the directions, we noticed this particularly insightful instruction: Turn left on a local road. (Emphasis mine.) Right. That’s, um, helpful. Fortunately, there was an obliging church parking lot for us to use for turning around purposes:

step four: find accommodations
This was relatively easy, and only involved turning around once. But okay, seriously:

Riddle me this — why the hell did they go to all the trouble of building a balcony if they weren’t going to include doors to get out onto said balcony? Isn’t that just a little bit, oh, silly?

step five: fall in love
Okay, I know it’s hot to have a Barney-purple car and then paint the rims to match. I know this because I have seen this hotness in person:

Oh, Purple Pimp. I have no words.

step six: have dinner
I’ve eaten at a lot of breweries over the course of my existence (one weekend, I ate at three different ones), and I can now add another one to my list. I don’t remember the name of it or anything, but our waitress was a total bitch, so at least there’s that. I find it wrong to go to a brewery and not try the beer (unless I order a chili dog, in which case the only acceptable beverage is a martini — and there are two people on the planet who even have the potential to get that, but I’m all about the in-joke, and I’m going to stop typing in parentheses now). So I had the River City Red, which I recommend if you’re in the market for a nice, smooth ale. You can kind of see it here, lurking behind the cup of most-delicious soup I had:

Here are some more pictures from our dining experience:

This would be Stacy.

This would be Stacy flipping me off because I thought it was necessary to photograph the pretzels.

step seven: find a bar

I don’t really like maraschino cherries unless they’ve been soaked in whiskey first. Call it a quirk. Anyway, it wasn’t too long after this picture was taken that I drunk-dialed Australia.

step eight: have friend drive your drunk ass back to hotel
Yeah.

I think I thought this was artistic.

I think she might have been laughing at me

step nine: go home
There’s not much to do when driving on I-96, as it’s the most wasteland-ish stretch of highway ever. Ever. Well, except there’s a Ted Nugent billboard on the westbound side. And I have nothing but love for The Nuge. Except the opposite of love. But anyway. When you’re driving, and there’s nothing to do except, well, drive, your only recourse is to have your friend photograph you acting like a spaz:

You can’t see what it says, but I’m wearing the “Cut your mullet” t-shirt I received in my birthday package from Caryn & Levi. It is the pinnacle of fabulosity.

step ten: get lost again
Before today, I’d never been to Grand Ledge. Now I can say that I’ve been through it twice. Here’s what this leg of the journey was like:

This truck pulled out in front of me and then went slow. Like, only 40 mph when he was really clippin’ along. Dick.

This is Stacy, expressing our feelings toward the truck. That girl really likes to flip things off.

I took this at the golf course where we turned around. Fore.

So there you have it. It really was a fantastic birthday, and I don’t even have a hangover today! (I’m really fucking tired though, so I guess that balances it.)

I’m not in the mood to wax nostalgic about the age 24 that I just left behind, but I will say that it was a pretty good year, though I really need to stop getting hung up on hopeless cases. But I definitely am not in the mood to write about that. In any case, even though my life is nothing like what I thought it would be by the time I reached 25, I think I’m doing okay. Except I really need a nap.

Right now.

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