Birthday Cheesecake

I don't like birthdays. Rephrase. I don't like my birthday.

I did recently 'celebrate' my birthday. By celebrate I mean: work, laundry, dishes, diapers, and tears. I did get a new kayak, a few phone calls, but no cake.

One phone call I did get was from my GeGe. It was brief. Her phone conversations usually are. Thank God. But she wished me a happy birthday and promised we would do something fun soon. Ya. Ya.

Despite suffering from chronic fatigue syndrome, secondary to being a mommy, wife, grad student, and nurse. As evidenced by consistent yawns, and bags under my eyes- I somehow dug deep and found the energy to getaway for the weekend with the women of my family. Think of it as matriarchal chaos. Look out New York City, here we come!

Before clearing security, and dealing with all the bullshit that comes with traveling these days, just to board a dog cage built for the sky- mom, GeGe and I decided to have dinner at the Cheesecake Factory. One of my favorites. I know, I know. Its a chain store rip off. But the cosmos are good and the cheesecake is even better.

After finishing our cosmos and ordering our cheesecake to go, GeGe opened up her pocketbook and offered to pay!

Hallelujah!!!

Smiling, she said,

"See Manda, I told we would celebrate your birthday one day."

Damn straight. Second to cash and kayaks- booze and cheesecake are the best birthday presents a girl could ask for.

Happy birthday to me.

Now where is that flight attendant? I need another drink. And one of those things to cover my eyes. You know so I can shut out everyone. Especially mom and GeGe. And the screaming kid behind me.

Wake me up in NY.