Chickaboom's birthday

It was my birthday yesterday and it was wonderful. Gone are the days that I expect surprises—like the Holly Hobbie cake my mom whipped up or the surprise 16th birthday party she managed to pull off—but I still consider my birthday somewhat magical. I will never downplay it, even as I get older. I may not advertise the year but I'll definitely hype the day.

To that end, I decided to throw a party for myself and basically invited everyone I know in town. My place is small and was packed with chattering, happy people. That was a gift in and of itself but the day was punctuated by a few surprises. It took me off guard when a friend's boyfriend (who I've only met twice) showed up with booze and barware. He acted as bartender for the evening, whipping up cocktails in various colors much to my and my guests' delight. A dozen roses arrived from a not-so-secret admirer; the flowers and the fella took my breath away. A close friend gave me a hoodie emblazoned with the nickname her almost-two-year-old daughter calls me. I would never have expected that in a million years. I can't wait to wear my "Chickaboom" sweatshirt around town, thinking about this magical birthday. There was no Holly Hobbie cake, but I can't have everything.