Sometimes life drops just the thing in your lap.
I wasn't sure how this birthday was going to go, me over here and Raj...you know...someplace else. I made plans to go to brunch on the day itself with my friend Michelle. (The day itself having been Sunday.) Then Ashley sent out a Facebook message to a few girls. She'd gotten a suite in Okuma, where there's a military recreation facility, since she knew a big group of people going to a cabin up there. Did we want to come?
I kind of thought I should probably do school work. And I wouldn't be back in time for brunch. Except it turned out that dinner worked even better for Michelle and none of the school work is due until Thursday anyway. I was in. In fact, we were all in. And that's how we ended up with an impromptu girls weekend of beach lounging, wave riding, steak eating, and literal singing around a campfire while drinking wine out of styrofoam cups and eating the s'mores we were handed. It was the life, I tell you. And some of it looked like this.
Yeah, we stopped off to hike to a waterfall on the way back. The only shoes I had were flip flops or my Vibrams, which I'd packed in case I needed them to walk into the water if it was rocky on the beach. (It wasn't.) I haven't worn them in ages and after doing roughly one thousand stairs in them yesterday, my calves are very angry indeed. Still. Worth it.
Then Michelle and I ate Indian food with mango lassi, which the restaurant gave me for free (with no singing!) after hearing Michelle say it was my birthday. Just after I got home, I got a phone call from a certain sailor who had finagled his way into using a phone that worked from the ship so he could tell me happy birthday. And then, just after we lost our connection, I got a call on FaceTime, three little chicks singing me happy birthday before their breakfast. Also, someone had very thoughtfully purchased chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting and left almost all of them in the fridge. (It was Past Me.)
It's fine though because I was told repeatedly over the weekend that birthday calories don't count. Two of the people saying it were doctors, so if Raj's frequent assertion is true (i.e., everything he says is correct because he's a doctor) I should find tomorrow that I've lost weight after a zero calorie weekend. Either I get away with a consequence-free weekend o' gluttony or I prove Raj wrong. So it's a win for me, one way or the other.