Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts

2.25.2009

Bathroom humor or How to Channel Your Inner 7 year old on Your 45th Birthday.

Scott turned 45 yesterday. Big birthday extravaganza planned with a home cooked menu that included your basic meat and potatoes, some green stuff, and an earthy Bordeaux. Scott's brother Paul joined us for what we thought would be a semi-quiet evening of reflection, Obama's address, and chocolate dessert.

What the evening ended up being was more like sitting around the lounge in the Sigma Chi house in 1984. All due to the simple fact of one goofy book I gave Scott for his birthday.

See, turning 45-for me at least was kind of a milestone. But that kind of sucky milestone that you might experience at the dentist. Like, you know you have to go to get your wisdom teeth removed but you don't want to. Or the first cavity. Or the first row of braces. It has to happen, you take it as well as you can but it basically sucks.

So, with my thinking that Scott wasn't exactly psyched about turning 45 (say goodbye to anything remotely young or youthful), I marched right into Urban Outfitters for a little age-ist pick-me-up. I nearly marched right out, realizing what an ironically sad joke it would be if I didn't find the right hip thing for my old man.

But after trying to be ever so nonchalant about stuff, I did end up finding some decent shorts. Scott thought he would look like Angus Young. I begged to differ.


I also got him a nice British racing cap, for his balded noggin. Okay, so maybe I did have Angus on my mind, that sweet Australia-Scottish musical wonder, genius , freaky AC/DC band member.

and a couple of decent linen shirts. Since he's about to spend a week in Singapore, right near the equator, I figure some summer wear was in order.

But the highlight of this birthday 'do were these goofy, asinine, juvenile afterthoughts I rammed into the bag at the register. You know, those last minute gimmicks that sit right on the counter? Those.

This.


I'd give you a 'taste' of what this little gem has to offer (and the laughter that ensues when read aloud after a mighty fine meal and just a splash of wine) but I'd rather direct you to this website, Dr. Stool. The authors? From Brown University (ahahahahaha! ahahahaha!ahaha!.....*cough*).

Josh Richman
Met his co-author while they were undergraduates at Brown University and their shared fascination with the diversity of poo brought them together to write this book. Josh holds an MBA from Stanford University and lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with his wife.



Anish Sheth, M.D.
Dr. Sheth holds a medical degree from Brown University and is currently a gastroenterology fellow at Yale University School of Medicine. He lives in Connecticut with his wife and two-year old son. Despite his love for poo, Anish is known to frequently disappear when his son's diaper is in need of changing.

12.30.2008

45.


Today's my birthday and thanks to Facebook I'm getting all sorts of birthday love. As far as my 45 years go, maybe not so much love. The best I could come up with on my feelings about my years is this old rpm adapter. Thought it to be a pretty good symbol of my new age.

Maybe outdated but still unique.

2.25.2008

Felice Compleanno mi amore' !!


(here's a little taste of what I offered in honor of Scott's 44th yesterday)



Kir Royale

*
Formaggio Taleggio

Olive di Cerignola

Noci Assortite


**

Antinori-Tignanello 2004

Pappardelle ala Bolognese

Rapini ala aglio e pecorino-reggiano


***

Torte al Cioccolato


E l'amore di Famiglia

12.26.2007

12 . 30 . 63

44.




Today.




40 friggin' 4.




Nice number as numbers go. Double fours. Even number. Square. Four.




Good.




And the whole forty thing doesn't really bother me so much. Anymore. Turning 40 did. Turning 40 was like some death knell. And then I realized when I woke up on my 40th birthday that when I looked in the mirror I looked exactly like a 39 year old.




So, yeah. 44. Actually, I sorta wear it as a badge of courage or war ribbon. I exercise ruthlessly, I take care of myself and I indulge (perhaps ruthlessly, as well). My life is rich and full.


In fact, I'm not really sure I could ask for a better life.





Signed,
Narcissus Sutton

11.05.2007

Oh? Ha! Funny!

Another birthday party. Another high-energy, high-octane, hebephrenic, hyper-jittery coupla hours of fun.

For Maia. Aged 9 years.

At pick up, greeted by mother of birthday girl:

"Karen, we've decided that Maia must be high on cocaine."

Me, a little stunned and embarrassed: "Oh? Ha! Funny!"

"No. Seriously. Only someone on cocaine can be that hyper."

10.05.2007

Maia Alexander Sutton @ 10.5.98

You, of the athletically skilled, happy-go-lucky (for the most part), bouncy, flitty, fast and furious lifestyle.....

You and your social 'network' and love of school and books and chocolate and collecting rocks....

You and your complicated, tangled, hebephrenic emotions.....that always seem to land in a calm and settled place.





You, my first kid.























But also my first teacher of life and silliness and uncontrollable highs and lows.


You, my sweet, sunny child.......










Happy Birthday, Maia.

7.08.2007

July 9, 2007 - 6 years ago today....






Colby Manchester Sutton.



Lover of TinTin, french fries, potato chips, vanilla ice cream, fresh yogurt and anything that moves wicked fast-like taxis and trains. Too bad you're not in Brussels, 'cuz that would be a perfect place to celebrate your birth with all those very Belgian favorites.



Oh...wait one......



you are in Brussels.....how about that.



Happy Birthday, Colb, my sweet boy.


And for your birthday, your very own 3 inch tall TinTin rocket....

and your favorite dinner, chicken nuggets, french fries and lots and lots of ketchup......


and for dessert, a vanilla cake with American, Belgian and Italian flags-that you picked out. Just for your cake. Happy 6th, big man.

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