Happy birthday to my dear friend Ali. I'm not sure she reads the blog, but, well, this is what's replaced birthday cards in my life. Ali and I have been friends since I was four. We went to grade school, high school, through college together. I rented half my house to her husband for two years. I was in their wedding. That girl has known me longer than I think either of us cares to think about.
It's her golden birthday today (she was born on the 31st, and she's 31 today - I'm sure she loves that I'm telling you that). Her husband said he was making her Golden Grahams for breakfast and taking her to the Golden Arches for dinner. Someone on Facebook pointed out that he'd better be tossing some gold jewelry into that mix, too.
My golden birthday was fine. I was 13. It was a year, whatever. Actually, it was my eighth grade year, which sucked. But the birthday itself was decent. Claud's was a few years ago - we had a good time on her birthday (Cubs game with Ali and Jer, actually - Jer gave her nacho cheese for her birthday. I think he'd already eaten all the nachos), but 27 was a really terrible year for her, if I'm remembering right.
Girl, I hope this one goes well for you.
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