Saturday, October 4, 2008

I Really Hope at Least 5 People Read This Blog...

I wish I had a Birthday Every Month... Without Getting Any Older, Of Course...

Yesterday was one of those uber exciting and exhausting days.

It was my fake-birthday!

Happy fake-birthday to me!

My birthday present from Mikey was a day in Denver. So, we got tickets to the Last Comic Standing tour for last night, and dedicated the whole day to couple activities.

So we slept in, then went to Lucille's. It was Friday morning and there were a million people there. It was a 40 minute wait. "Why are all of these people here on a work day?" I asked myself... is it everyone's fake birthday today? Don't you people have jobs? (Side note: Yes, I have a job, but I was responsible and took PTO... it's my fake-birthday people.)

And then we heard them talk. Turns out most of them are Texans (dundunduh!) in for the game with CU. Who travels for a college football game? Do you seriously have enough time and money to infest our cute little city with your families?

It makes no sense to me...

Maybe I'm a little bitter, because they all got in the way of me and my food.

And that is so not OK.

So we finally battled it out with the Texans (dundunduh!) and were seated. And ate WAY TOO MUCH. I have this problem where I can't not eat too much. I think that it is a psychological/physical condition that should be listed in medical books. They could call it the Ally B Over-eatin syndrome...

They should do an episode of Grey's Anatomy about me...

So I ate beignets and giant biscuits and potatoes and eggs and grits and jam and spiced tea...

And my tummy hurt really badly.

But it was SO good.

The waitress kept asking if we wanted half-orders of our stuff.

Silly waitress... I am practically a professional at eating a lot.

Half-orders are for small-stomached sissy boys....

Then we walked along Pearl Street to try to work off some of the 5500 calories that I had just consumed.

I was able to get my ring cleaned, since I'm pretty sure small creatures were living in the setting and grits were stuck to the gems...

Then we went home where Mike studied google maps for about 30 minutes so that we could avoid any fist fights while trying to get to Denver.

It was really fun: we drove in circles looking for free parking... we went to the Denver Art Museum... Mike acted like a child and stuck his face about two inches away from the paintings, causing security guards to follow us around exhibits (for his explanation about why he does this, see this)... my blood sugar dropped so I started to panic and we had to run to Mad Greens to get some food in me before I passed out... then we walked all the way to Tattered Covers bookstore (about a mile).

I know it sounds like I'm complaining about it... but it really was A LOT of fun!


Now, we love bookstores, and from what I've heard, Tattered Covers is the best one around. But both Mike and I were left wanting more. It was cool and all, but they had NONE of the books that I wanted... or the books that Mike wanted... so their selection was crappy, to say the least.

Then we both had really bad tummy aches... I wonder why?

So we went and had tea and muffins for dinner before the show.

Then the security guards at the theater made us chug said tea out on the street because it was not allowed inside. They also told me I couldn't bring our muffin in, so I had to stuff it in a zippered pocket and cover it with tampons so that the male security guard would get uncomfortable and not ask any questions...

We got the muffin in.

The show was fun. We laughed a lot. I was sitting next to a woman who was there with her
twenty something daughter and her daughter's boyfriend. The woman kept turning to her daughter every thirty seconds and yelling, "What did he say?" or "I don't get it"...

It wasn't annoying at all... nor was the fact that she was a heavy mouth breather...

Then we came home and I collapsed in bed...

All in a fake-birthday's day...

Thanks, Kev... it was wonderful (picture a smiley face icon... I would do one, but it looks stupid...).