Monday, March 24, 2003
Happy birthday, Barcelona baby
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. The air was warm, we were carefree, we danced the night away. We ate Italian food -- I, seafood ravioli out of a huge shell that was sitting on its own little chair; she, something that was a little less memorable. We drank cheap tequila and beer. We went to sleep 3 hours before we had to catch a bus to the airport and somehow managed to not throw up. I was an evil bitch on the plane home, but somehow she forgave me. And I hope she can forgive me again.
Heather Janes turned 23 last Wednesday, and once again, I forgot all about it. How? I don't know. The strange thing is, I think about Heather's birthday all the time. We celebrated her 20th birthday in the aforementioned fashion in Barcelona. Our Barcelona trip was the best trip I've ever been on, yet somehow it manages to escape my mind every March 19th. It took me less than a week to remember it this time (and just for the record, I remembered as I was on my walk yesterday, not when I read it on her blog this morning). Last year, my birthday had already passed before I remembered Heather's. If anything, my memory is getting better with age. Perhaps next year I'll remember it on the actual day.
Until then, please forgive me, my little watermelon seed. Happy belated birthday.
It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. The air was warm, we were carefree, we danced the night away. We ate Italian food -- I, seafood ravioli out of a huge shell that was sitting on its own little chair; she, something that was a little less memorable. We drank cheap tequila and beer. We went to sleep 3 hours before we had to catch a bus to the airport and somehow managed to not throw up. I was an evil bitch on the plane home, but somehow she forgave me. And I hope she can forgive me again.
Heather Janes turned 23 last Wednesday, and once again, I forgot all about it. How? I don't know. The strange thing is, I think about Heather's birthday all the time. We celebrated her 20th birthday in the aforementioned fashion in Barcelona. Our Barcelona trip was the best trip I've ever been on, yet somehow it manages to escape my mind every March 19th. It took me less than a week to remember it this time (and just for the record, I remembered as I was on my walk yesterday, not when I read it on her blog this morning). Last year, my birthday had already passed before I remembered Heather's. If anything, my memory is getting better with age. Perhaps next year I'll remember it on the actual day.
Until then, please forgive me, my little watermelon seed. Happy belated birthday.
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