I officially declared the start of birthday week on Saturday, to last through this coming Saturday. Today is my actual birthday. 26 on the 26th, baby. That shit only happens ONE time. I�m buying a lotto ticket.
It�s the TIMING. Man. Thursday birthdays are hardcore in my world. Here�s why�
Monday: Day of rest. Sort of.
Tuesday: My Talk Show Birthday. Co-Host Kim and I always celebrate our birthdays during the show closest to the actual day, and we always do insane shit for each other. The trip to Alligator Farm on Sunday was on my behalf, because the female alligator wrestler was supposed to bring a 3-foot gator and several large snakes to the talk show. There was concern that she would flake since she was a no-show over the weekend, but damn if the woman didn�t come through. What does this mean? It means it was like animal kingdom in that bar. It means we had a great discussion with a really interesting guest. It means one of the snakes had to be put away because some of the bar patrons were scared. Pussies. It means that during the talk show, on live radio, a 3-foot alligator peed on the floor beside me underneath the table. Cake and champagne were brought out. (We couldn�t light the candles because of the ocean wind, but whatever. It was good cake.) Co-Host Kim had decorated our table and gave bubbles to everyone. She is also a huge lightweight, and drunky wunky after a single glass of champagne. Well, it�s hard to say how much she had, because she spilled her second glass on a piece of cake, then scooped up the soggy cake and ate it. She also smeared icing on my face and snapped a photo � apparently she promised our boss she would do that. Shawn showed up later � man, what a fun night. (In case you�re wondering what I�m going to do for Kim this year, I have two words for you: Monkey Jungle.
Wednesday: Now, for most people, after Tuesday, last night would have been another day of rest. Not us, no sirreeblob. We have to go to Ladies� Night, and countdown the minutes to the official start of my actual birthday like it�s New Year�s Freaking Eve or something. Seriously, we had the whole entire bar checking their watches non-stop, waiting for the Jamie Birthday Ball to drop. Everyone sang at midnight. Then, somehow, Shawn and I ended up in a hotel swimming pool at about 2 a.m. Fully dressed. (Well, I was, because I was wearing a dress and no bra. Shawn�s ass was swimming around in her underwear, then topless. That slut.) That�s starting to happen a lot, actually. When I woke up this morning, I was so happy, because I felt wet hair and thought I had the foresight to shower, so I was all nice and clean. Yeah, not so much. My ass is sitting here right now with damp hair and stinking of chlorine.
Thursday: Surely, after two nights of insanity, Jamie will use the evening of her actual birthday as a day of rest, right? I�m gonna go with NO. Because it is my actual birthday, so there are a zillion people who want to take me out for a drink. Great, more alcohol. I�m pretty sure my bloodstream is 90% vodka and random birthday shots at this very moment, so we might as well throw some more alcohol on top to round out the complete lushy package.
Friday And Saturday: Well, it IS a Friday and Saturday. Of course we�re going out. Thank Action Figure Jesus I don�t get hangovers.
