WOW! What a fantastic birthday weekend!
I have to start by giving a shout out to my posse! And, yes I know that it is not 1994, somehow posse slipped across my lips on Friday and I am just going with it. It’s odd how certain words or phrases are stuck somewhere deep down in the mucky bottom of your brain, and once and a while they are churned up from the bottom. I have used the term posse all weekend, and probably will for the rest of the week, and then I’ll let it go and allow it to sink back to the murky depths of my psyche.
My birthday weekend started Friday evening, as most weekends do (even ones that are not birthday related) and I decided that I would keep it sedate, rest up for Saturday night.
After work I went to Sephora and treated myself to a few things including a Stiletto Red lipstick by Lancôme (which was sort of pinky-red). I’ve never really worn red lipstick, but I like the look of it and am going to try to slowly introduce it into my make-up wardrobe.
After Sephora, I picked up some pad Thai and went home. As I made the trek towards home, a wicked storm rolled through. Rain and wind blew debris across the road, and at one point I was certain that the finger of God as attempting to push my Vibe right off the road. Being the ever-vigilant and brave girl that I am, I carried on, through the storm and made it home unscathed. The storm provided a welcome respite from the miserable heat that we’ve had here in the Ohtucky. I was actually able to eat my pad Thai in front of the TV in my living room without having to continually wipe the sweat that would drip from my forehead. It was nice.
I have a rather roomy one bedroom apartment, in a charming 1928 Tudor. When apartment hunting, I decided to choose charm over modern conveniences, like central air. I do, however, have window units in my bedroom and there is one in the dining room. I have yet to use the one in the dining room this summer; I really don’t see the point for just myself. So along with my fabric shopping bags, this is my contribution to saving the environment by using less power. That’s right; I am the hippy chick saving the earth girl! (Well not really, I never seem to feel guilty for the Styrofoam cups that McDonald’s serves my tea in. Let’s face it, that shit is good. Sorry, earth).
My Birthday Eve celebration began at Zola (http://zolapubandgrill.com/), with Guinness and nachos for me. I love the nachos at Zola. I am not usually a fan of chili on nachos at most places, but at Zola it is definitely scrumptious.
On the drive to Mainstrasse, I made those with me swear that they would not buy me any tequila. Tequila does one of two things to me, neither of which is good. I either take my boobs out or I puke. I was determined not to do either of those things on my birthday. Thankfully, I was successful!! Everyone lived up to their oath of no tequila!!
I am enamored with this place! They have more bourbon, whiskeys, scotches and other libations than I have ever seen and the atmosphere was very chill yet kinda classy!! Some of their selections were extremely rare and unique. With so many to choose from, decision making was HARD!
Our bartender was Josh; he was super knowledgeable and able to make great recommendations. KS is not a fan of the bourbon, so he whipped her up a concoction that he had just invented the previous night. It was so delicious that I had to have one too! He had not named the drink yet, we attempted to give him some ideas. The first was Holay Mole, for the Mole bitters that were in the drink. That gave Josh a chuckle but I don’t think he was going for it. Our next idea was, The Cy, after our pal Cy Press, who was joining us for the evening. We shall see on our next visit, if he took either of our suggestions seriously. I feel pretty certain that he will not.
Josh, the master mixologist, posing with Cy Press.
While at OKBB, KR arrived after making an 11 hour drive back from
! My Birthday Eve would not have been the same without her!! So she won the “farthest traveled” award, which consisted of a hug! Myrtle Beach
JR and CC both had a couple of sarsaparilla sours, which were apparently pretty potent, I had a taste, but am SO NOT a fan….. YUK! I guess a sarsaparilla was the root beer’s predecessor. Root beer gags me….. I chased that repulsive taste from my mouth, with some Double Oaked Woodford Reserve, it was like sipping liquid gold…so warm as I could feel it percolating down my throat, once reaching my stomach, the warmth spreading itself from my abdomen, crossing my chest and making its way down to my finger tips. It’s all I can do to close my eyes and savor the moment.
So, after we all enjoyed some luscious libations, we headed across the street to Strasse Haus (http://www.strassehauspub.com/) as we could hear a band playing, and Birthday Eves are made for dancing!
The band playing was Lucky 7, they played some reggae sounding stuff and some covers that I knew well. Two days later I still have “Land Down Under” stuck in my head…… I so hate getting a brain worm, hopefully it will abscond posthaste….
An anonymous band member with Cy. Cy is such an attention whore. This is not a great photograph; I believe the photographer may have been a little tipsy.
So we danced, laughed, enjoyed buttery nipples and essentially had a groovy time!!
We did notice an abundance of sequins on the bar patrons. I have never really thought much about sequins, not sure that I am a sequin kinda girl. And since my favorite places to shop are the Goodwill and Target, which don’t really carry much sparkle, I don’t really see many sequins on my infrequent shopping trips.
We did, however, decide that we needed to have a sequin themed outing, preceded by a craft night, when we will bedazzle and outfit each. KS’s birthday is next, and I suggested that could be when we did sequin night. She and KR were in agreement. I love that my friends are just as dorky as me.
After Strasse Haus, the evening was pretty much over for most of us…. We all parted and went our separate ways.
I have to say that I have the best friends that any girl could ask for…… I’m very lucky!!
I had a massive headache early Sunday morning, but it vanquished fairly quickly. I was a slug for the majority of my actual birthday.
As I laid around in my shorts and ratty t-shirt with uncombed hair (teeth were brushed. when I first woke up, I felt like a cat had shit in my mouth) I got an unexpected invitation to go to the Beer Sellar (net/) www.beersellar.net) for drinks from TJ.
I, of course, said YES! It was officially my birthday and it wouldn’t be right to spend it lying on the sofa, with the cat, watching “Something About Mary”, that would just be sad.
I quickly began the magical transformation, back to a human being from the slug state I was wallowing in.
It was a beautiful evening on the banks of the
Ohio River. There was a slight breeze as we sat on the deck watching the boats go by sipping on our drinks. I asked the bartender what his specialty drink was, “Sex on the Deck” he replied.
I had one. I suppose it was essentially a “Sex on the Beach”. It was fine. After the Birthday Eve debauchery, lighter drinking was definitely on my agenda.
We enjoyed the view, the weather and the conversation for a while. I felt oddly contented. TJ suggested we go over to Joe’s Crabshack for a birthday dinner. I eagerly agreed, I love me some seafood!! I had some lobster stuffed shrimp, which was quite tasty. TJ had a shrimp platter, which appeared to have the entire school of shrimp on it! We even shared some key lime pie for dessert.
When discussing our dessert choice, the subject of chocolate came up. I, as I’ve stated earlier, am not a big chocolate fan. TJ said that sometimes chocolate was a sex substitute “Haven’t you seen women on TV take chocolates to bed and eat the whole box?”
I had to laugh, he was so earnest. I had to retort, “Eating an entire box of chocolate is more about stuffing down feelings than substituting for sex. If I’m going to stuff down some feelings, I prefer to do it with alcohol.” Alcohol is just an all around better feeling-stuffer in my opinion. And if you choose correctly it’s not so hard on your waistline. If you’re truly using chocolate as a sex substitute, expanding your waistline isn’t going to help you get laid, I’m sure of that!
Now that you are all caught up on the Birthday Weekend hijinx, let’s talk tattoos.
A comment from Vigilarius, about the pain of tattoos has spurred today’s tattoo talk. Vigilarius doesn’t have any ink, and is hesitant because of the potential pain factor. Everyone perceives pain differently, but some areas are definitely more painful to have tattooed. Personally the least painful tattoo that I have was behind my ear, although I’ve seen that some people thought that was very painful. Of course, the tattoo behind my ear is relatively tiny and didn’t take very long at all.
I found a couple of charts that show the areas that are most commonly more sensitive. The most painful tattoo for me was definitely my foot, that hurt like a mother fucker.
These charts seems to be pretty accurate, in my opinion. Oh sure, you’ll find someone out that there will disagree, but opinions are like assholes, everybody knows one!
Aside from the actual pain, a person can psych themselves out, letting the fear of the unknown give them a case of the “tattoo flu”. I saw a person very close to me suffer a terrible case of the tattoo flu at the time of their first tattoo. As the needle touched his skin and began to make an outline, all of the blood drained from his face and he turned as green as a gourd. There was a mad dash to the bathroom, some vomiting ensued. Now this person was not a whimpy person, had suffered some painful injuries without any major drama. Yet, the idea of the tattoo needles piercing his skin brought forth a physiological response.
While he was in the bathroom trying to compose himself, the tattoo artist said “It’s the tattoo flu, you never know who’s going to get it.”
After some encouragement, a cool wet paper towel and a Mountain Dew, he regained his composure and calmly sat for the rest of the tattoo session. He even went on to get a second tattoo a year or so later, without contracting the tattoo flu!
So if you’re nervous about the potential pain of a tattoo, that’s understandable. You may find that it’s not nearly as bad as you had anticipated. You might get a case of the tattoo flu. Or, getting a tattoo may not be the way to go for you.
If you really feel like you can't live without getting that first tattoo, yet are freaked by the thought of the needles forcing ink into your skin, maybe look at those charts and try to choose the least painful area to start off with. I'd venture to guess that 8 out of 10 people would say that the tattoo did not hurt as bad as they had anticipated.
If the idea of a tattoo, sends you down a rabbit hole of panic, I'd definitely consider finding some other way to express myself. There's no shame in that.