February 15

Well, I've upgraded. Last year's theme for my birthday was "Birthday Princess," but this year, it was "Birthday Fairy Princess Ballerina." I pick the themes; for some reason, birthdays turn me into a five-year-old. (In my defense, on my 17th birthday I did normal teenager stuff and had a house party full of people I only sometimes knew and a bonfire and such.)

It was thoroughly enjoyable. Joseph made me a very elaborate teddy bear at Build-a-Bear (Moxie Crimefighter, a fairy princess ballerina bear) and bought me bubble wands, which resulted in me blowing bubbles in the car all day long. He also orchestrated a ridiculously sweet surprise involving me arriving at his house, him still asleep, a sign with an arrow, his laptop, and a downloaded version of the video of Bright Eyes' "First Day of My Life." (It's the most adorable video ever, and the song is very sentimental to me.) He wrote me a birthday letter that made me cry, and then I woke him up and made him eat cake for breakfast. (He bought me the cake, too.) Then he took me to the zoo, and after that, he bought me Katamari Damacy, which we played for an hour or so.

We headed to Applebee's to meet my parents and brother, ate steak, and made the poor waits sing me the birthday song. (There is nothing that makes you feel more insanely powerful than forcing somebody to sing you the birthday song and give you free chocolate.) My parentgs bought me this beautiful original pencil drawing of the four main characters from The Wizard of Oz (with which I have long been obsessed), done by a local artist of extreme talent and extreme talent-suppressing alcoholism. They had it framed under archive glass. You should see the thing. It's gorgeous. Definitely heirloom quality.

I'm tired of talking about my birthday, and I bet you're tired of reading about it.