Cake!

Last night I got a birthday cake.

But when I realized I couldn't get all the candles on it,
I just broke down.



And got another cake!

Right about now I am pretty darn content.  Personally, emotionally, if not necessarily professionally.

My heart is lighter after finally resolving a couple of personal issues, long overdue; all my peeps are doing really well; and my oldest friends are moving back to the Emerald City.

Meanwhile you couldn't pay me to be 27 again (maybe 37...) because right now, right here, I could not be happier.

To Come

Pictures to go up on Flickr today or tomorrow latest, assuming I stay awake long enough.

Not my usual shots as I like to shoot landscapes, animals and birds. Little opportunity for that.  Maybe next time.

Although one thing was interesting - I went to a neighborhood party where the tradition is to cut down a tree festooned with household items topped with a Peruvian flag.  It was fun and everyone was really nice - and by really nice I mean Latin men intrigued by my blonde hair and lack of bilingualism.

Lord have MERCY, Latin American men.

Although I will say my personal rule regarding Latin American men - especially while IN Latin America - look but don't touch.

Where was I.

The interesting bit was at the end of the night my new acquaintance, a young woman named Netchie, asked, "Elle-a, you body muy atractivo, why you wear the clothes no see?"

So now it has been established in two hemispheres - I dress like a 12-year-old boy.

Berens 1, Elle 0.

What Never to Say to a Woman.

I'm in DC right now visiting friends.  It's been a good trip.

Sunday I went shopping with my friend Drew and her two bridesmaids.  Lovely women both, I was particularly taken with her friend Meredith who reminds me of my friend Heather back home.

I like shopping as much as the next girl but lately it's been a solitary activity because all my girlfriends work and so I just end up going for whatever I need and then I'm done.

But Sunday was particularly fun.  We were looking for bridesmaids dresses so the four of us are in the dressing room, saying, Yes, No, Maybe, the length is wrong, that one smushes your breasts, etc.  When we were done all four of us spilled out of the dressing room like it was some kind of girl-shopping clown car.

Next up was shopping for Drew's trousseau, first stop was Victoria's Secret (or "Vickie's", as Meredith called it).

We were obviously all together and Drew had picked out several things to try on.

I saw a fantastic black and white bra - white with black lace - which would go perfectly with a black and white dress I have.  I don't what it is about that dress but I am always complimented on it and it's one of my favorites.

I'm thinking how fab that bra will look, and how sexy it would be to pull that dress off to reveal that bra to all the men that get to see me undress.  And when I say "all the men" I mean none, but anyway.

I go up to the chick who has been helping us and I ask for the bra in my size.

She says to me....She says, in front of God and everybody:

"So are you the mother of the bride?"

OH. MY. GOD.

I closed my eyes because the room started to spin.

When I opened them, I was immediately 10 years older and 20 pounds heavier.

I was no longer the curvy sexy tart I've always considered myself to be, but a frumpy 40-something with saggy tits and my grandmother's flat butt.

Afterwards I told the story and Meredith gave me the biggest hug and an, "OH MY GOD I AM SO. SO. SORRY!"

Drew piped up with, "Hey you know, my face is breaking out and I look really young for my age...."

I appreciated their words, but the damage was done.  DONE I SAY.

"So are you the mother of the bride?"

Never, EVER, say that to a woman.