“How old are you turning this year? 32?”
I nearly passed out.
No, this was not a joke.
Sweet mother of pearl.
Get the dermatologist on speed dial and call me an UBER to Bedford Dr.
I considered throwing myself onto Wilshire, but realized I would miss out on the numerous birthday activities I had scheduled (Rufus, and brunch) in honor of my increasing age.
While some thought I looked mature for my age, others treated me as a pre-teen peasant, which is OK on most days, but not on my DOB.
I love eating.
In fact, it is my favorite hobby.
Allegedly, one of the best places to eat in Santa Monica is at Capo.
Jordan surprised me, and made a reservation there on night one of the birthday festivities.
To say we were treated poorly in an understatement.
After reservations were made at 8:15pm (on a Thursday), we didn’t sit down until 8:45, and didn’t have dinner until 9:50.
I’m all about a long dinner, especially when wine is involved, but our waitress who didn’t even entertain us with a hint of hospitality commanded:
“Which wine did you pick?”
No greeting, nothing.
We may as well have been at McDonald’s.
Except the cost was McDonald’$$$$ with a French burgundy.
Tears were shed during the dessert soufflé, and 27 was not turning out the way I planned.
My wonderful boyfriend planned a nice evening and it was dampened by the service.
I’ll continue with the positive.
We shuffled to K-town for Rufus, and woke up on Saturday to a beautiful but BURR day in Brentwood, and hit Montana for my favorite breakfast on my DOB.
We bopped to Sonoma Wine Garden, and let me just say, it was
Take note, Capo.
Best staff, host, waiter. #snapstosonoma
I had my flowers brought in by the talented artist Michelle from the Larchmont Village Florist, and all was grand on Saturday, December 3rd.
We met up with Carms and Hone for the tuna cones and my all-time favorite smoked salmon pizza, and once again, I felt like a stuffed turkey.
On Sunday, We made it to HP, trimmed the tree, and hung out with G.
Bailey attempted to steal the spotlight from me by lunging for the cheese ball, but was unsuccessful.
While there’s still a sting with the number, I feel #blessed by all of the love I received on my DOB.
Thank you all, for making it that much nicer getting old AF.
p.s. Thank you Carms for the Nespresso.