30 = Awesome

Okay, so far being thirty is pretty much the bomb. For my birthday, Rob came home from Africa (not JUST because it was my birthday- also because he lives here) and we went out to Roys for dinner. The great irony was when I ordered a 'big girl' drink and the waitress asked to see my ID...which I did not have. (My "special occasion" purse holds nothing more than a breath of fresh air. it's that small). After explaining this to the waitress, she leaned forward in a consipratory way and asked in a loud whisper if either of us were cops before taking our orders and serving what can only be described as grain alochol in a tall glass with an umbrella. (Glad to see their security system is air tight.) I then proceeded to consume my body weight in gourmet fish and a "chocolate lava" dessert. The ride home consisted of Rob shaking his head from side to side while I lamented the decision to wear anything other than sweatpants. (If I was worried about 30 making me dull and mature, clearly my fears are unfounded.) Either way, it was delicous and an awesome end to the day.

But no, the fun did not stop there.

Saturday night Rob scheduled a "Laser Tag Birthday Party" for me (mainly because I demanded it). We had about 20 of our friends show up- one of which-Damian, is a professional magician and he did magic tricks for us while we all ate at Pizza Hut. (I know, I know...I'm a pony ride and a face painting artist away from being 8 years old all over again). But we had a freaking blast. I think there's something to being "allowed" to have fun that all adults should indulge in every once in a while. Anyway, I won't ruin this post with more sarcasm. The point is I had a GREAT Birthday. (Rob, you are hereby forgiven for the cupcake incident of Mother's Day, 2009). Pictures below.

Everyone at Pizza Hut. The one place you can walk into on a Saturday night at 7pm with 20 people and have NO wait time. I'm pretty sure we're the (only) reason they will make their monthly quota for January.

Damian's first trick. Christa...STUMPED.

BLUE TEAM

RED TEAM

The score sheet says that Rob and I (seperate teams) shot eachother something like 20 times total. Marriage counselors everywhere are praying you don't find out how theraputic this is.