Celebration of viability

I'm recording the events of the day right now, so that I do not forget any details. Hopefully, I'll be up for work tomorrow.

So, the day started off with a "Happy Birthday!" sign in my mirror over a bottle of Gatorade. Oh, suitemate. In his honor, I continued to say, "i haz a bloo" when I held up my Gatorade each time today. Work was pretty cool-- we started painting a house with the wrong type of paint. It was wicked. Then, I suggested that the rest of my crew was unfit to live in the Jackson area for so long without ever tasting the donuts of Hinkley's Bakery... which led to Matt (manager) suggesting that the entire crew goes to the bakery for morning break. Glorious.

After work, I find my wallet to be missing. I freaked out a bit, especially since I was out of food and needed to shop. I bought two cans of Spartan soup (poor decision) and some pop tarts with the cash I had on me. When I returned, I drove to the physical plant to check the van. No wallet. Maybe in the house we were painting-- money.

I had a bunch of friends over to watch Hot Fuzz (one of my favorite comedies) in my room for the first movie night since I left for Montana. Never gets old. I think this was the very first time I ever totally packed out my room for a movie this summer. The movie was even interrupted by my parents calling and singing Happy Birthday to me over the speakerphone... which was unfortunately with spotty reception.

Carrie got me these cupcakes of indescribable awesomosity. I'll keep it simple, so that you may understand. Twelve cupcakes. Red icing.

NOM
NOM
NOM
NOM

Indeed, they were nomcakes. I am a pretty happy guy.

Then, I took four of my friends (Shane, Stephanie, Travis, and Hamm) out to Applebee's on a $30 gift card my mom gave me. I figured this would not be a problem with half-off appetizers. When inquiring on the availability of said appetizers, the waitress replied, "Yes, those are on." Upon receiving three samplers, we discover, by courtesy of our snippy attendant, "Oh, by the way, those aren't half-off." This was not a big deal, seeing as it wasn't that much over $30 anyway. But it gets better. Much to my dismay, my "friends" indicate that it was my birthday. Of course, this means that I get to be embarrassed and sung to, and collect on free dessert. However, the ever-snooty waitress responded to Stephanie in this manner: "Oh, there are only two of us tonight. I don't think we'll be able to do it." Depression abounded. This depression transfigured into anger as a flock of ten waiters and waitresses gathered around another customer to sing their Applebee's happy birthday chant. We left shortly after this, though we had a ton of laughs and interesting conversation anyway.

On the way home, as Applebee's was destroyed by fire and sulfur, I notice red and blue flashing lights in my mirror. At the on-ramp of M-60, I pull over for the fuzz. I provide my license and insurance as I dig around in the glovebox for my registration, silently praying to God that the officer does not spot the full box of .22 caliber ammunition in my glovebox. Success. I provide the registration as he asks about my donor sticker on the license and the age of everyone in the car, then leaves to his car. He returns with my things, and asks me to have a good night. Done and done, sir.

Good night, indeed.