And so, most of my friends and much of my family has had to listen to me harp on about my 30th birthday for months now. I've guilted most of my family into coming, with 6 of them flying in purely for my birthday. I was stressing about finding a venue back in June, and once I'd booked one in July, I then ensured that I would have a DJ. As a matter of fact, I have two.
One thing that I've avoided admitting to too many people (and no blogging about it is not incongruous with that approach considering less than 100 people per day seem to hit this blog and I'd imagine 75% do so by accident) is my canape spreadsheet that has a column for the name of canapes, how much each of them are, the number of them that I am thinking about ordering, and the amount for each. This is followed by various calculations telling me the total cost, number of canapes per person, and so on.
After all that, it was actually the invitation (inspired by the theme of "Sophistication") that elicited the most colorful of emotions from my friends and family:
Inspired by a Bond movie poster, it managed to evoke reviews ranging from "OMG u r hysterical!" and "This is your best yet" to "You pompous fuck." and "It's like you're getting married. To yourself."
At this point I figure the chances of me getting stabbed at my birthday party are pretty good.
1 comment:
Dude, you're only thirty. Chill the fuck out.
love,
the random guy that AIMed you about your blog being his pre-vacation intelligence with respect to New York City
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