There's always Branson ...

So, I guess honesty should start somewhere ... like maybe admitting that this just wasn't a great birthday. Not miserable, but definitely not great. "Great" was the weekend Jessi and I spent in Denver, meeting Andrew and getting our feet prettied up. Great was lunch with Amber while it snowed (!) on my birthday. This birthday came nowhere near. It was rainy and lonely.

I was supposed to spend the day fishing with Ray and one of the Germans. Didn't happen. Ray was sick, and since Ray has the fishing poles and the bait and is the only one willing to bait my line for me (I'm rather squeamish when it comes to this, even when the "bait" is just a bit of colored stuff from a jar ...), the fishing trip just didn't happen. Sad.

Plan B: Pedicure!!

I went to one of the local nail places ... only to be dismally disappointed. Half the fun of a birthday is getting to tell people that it's your birthday ... but you don't want to be obnoxious about it. It's supposed to casually come up in conversation. So I figured that a pedicure was a shoo-in opportunity for some casual conversation, a "happy birthday" from a stranger and pretty feet to boot.

First mistake: I didn't have an appointment. So I sat in the massage chair, my feet dunked in a tub of hot, jetting water for nearly an hour ... waiting ... Not a bad way to spend an hour, but it became very clear that they weren't happy that I had sauntered in without an appointment. "But it's my birthday," I kept thinking to myself ... "I deserve a unreserved pedicure. Sheesh." So I sat, drinking my birthday coffee and re-reading a Harry Potter.

She finally came over and started scrubbing, filing and massaging away on my feet and legs, all without uttering a single word. I got a flustered half-smile when I commented that they were busy ... but that was it. And she left gaps in my polish. Sigh. And I didn't get to tell anyone that it was my birthday.

I did get phone calls. Both brothers checked in -- one after spending six hours in a breast-feeding class, the other after being assaulted by a one-eyed albino kangaroo -- and Amber called twice, so it was nice to hear friendly voices, even though I couldn't see the friendly faces that went with them ...

The rest of the day was just as solitary. Karla had given me her ticket to a comedy benefit thing, so I gussied up and went ... but since I didn't know anyone, it wasn't really that great of a night. Good chocolate-covered strawberries, though.

I cooked myself dinner and enjoyed some wine. Watched a couple movies. Tried to get in touch with a co-worker as a last-ditch effort to have some sort of social contact for the day ... no dice. He was moving his brother's stuff into his apartment. Had some more wine. Went to bed.

I've got Branson and loads of family to look forward to in the next week, though, so that'll be good.