I’m waiting for a few more checks to arrive, but barring any problems, I’ll be sending Elim the checks at the end of the week. A big thank you to everyone who bid and donated and gave extra cash. I appreciate your help so much. Buying for Joey is impossible, and it’s nice to know I can give him something that will be more useful and appreciated — even if he doesn’t directly realize that he’s appreciating it.
Joey turns 22 today. I turned 22 in 2005, a few months before I graduated college.
A group of friends saw to it that I had an amazing birthday dinner — we all went to a fondue restaurant near campus. We ordered melty cheese and dipped chunks of bread in it. It was a Thursday night, and the restaurant was all but empty. Probably for the best — I’m sure we were pretty obnoxious, and at one point, I opened a gift that, erm, required batteries.
Somewhere are photos of me grasping the fondue forks like I’m ready to get stabby with them. There are group shots somewhere. There are memories in the minds of my friends who helped me celebrate: Lindsay, Andrew, John, Morgan, Grace, Lauren. I wore a pretty dress, and after dinner, I met a boy I had just started to date for a drink so he could wish me happy birthday, too.
Joey, meanwhile, will probably get some French fries. Mom will take him to McDonalds or White Castle. He’ll drink so much pop that you’ll hear it sloshing around in his belly when he walks. Mom will make him a cake because you can’t not make him a cake, even though he won’t eat it, and then my parents will sing him happy birthday because the only thing he likes more than having people sing him happy birthday is blowing out candles. I’m not sure when I’ll get home next, but chances are, whenever I do, we’ll probably sing again.
Happy birthday, Joeyface. I love you.