Another birthday wish, <lj user=”aoide”>…

I had a bizarre dream about your birthday…

So, James and I went to Bootcamp as usual, and I came home feeling like complete crap. I decided if I sat down, I’d hurt, so I went downstairs to walk on the treadmill and watch recorded TV shows for a while. Time passed, JamesT woke up and all of you guys — you, Ben & Maggie, and other people I didn’t really know — all of you guys showed up to decorate our house because YOU had decided here was the best place for your birthday party.

In what turned out to be a weird little mix of our real life with this dream, you guys were playing with giant bags of confetti and grass seed, and literally standing at the top of the stairs and pouring bags of it down on different people. There was crap everywhere, and it wasn’t even party time yet… just decorating. In what isn’t at all weird, you and most of them were already drinking, as this being your “birthday week of booze”, you should have been.

Anywho, apparently I finished with a couple hours of tv and treadmill walking and was attempting to make my way upstairs when I get a bag of whatever dumping on me, then I come on upstairs to realize what is going on — you guys are all here, there are some random balloons blown up, but mostly there are just bags and bags of confetti (and grass seed) and it is everywhere because you are using our seed-spreader for the lawn to spread it all over the house.

Being the sweet, mild-tempered person I am, I start screaming at you, calling you a drunk, telling you I don’t give a shit if it’s your birthday or not, but you’d better clean up all this mess right now and then get the hell out. Everyone starts kind of half-ass cleaning, you’re crying and go outside to somebody’s car, that person follows you out and you guys go on and drive off.

Then the funny thing happens. Everyone is laughing. Maggie turns to me and says, so is it all set up then? I say it is, and ask what all this mess is about here. She tells me you were being crazy drunk and beligerent and insisted that you needed to party at our house so they brought you on over here for a couple hours. She thinks it worked out great, seeing as how it ended up with you and I fighting so that would really throw you off.

Then we pop in the car and head over to the location of your real suprise birthday party, which we’ve done up at a location like a high-school gym, and its decorated out like a prom and even has a DJ. We hang a big sign that says Happy Birthday, Kit, over all the doors entering the gym, and we wait under it for your driver — another accomplis, to eventually drive up with you.

You get out, see the sign, see all of us already there, and just start cursing a blue streak. You are so angry that you didn’t have a clue about this surprise party, and that we were all good enough actors earlier at our house to make you think you’d genuinely fucked up and were going to have a miserable birthday. But, we all hugged and all was well, and you were prom queen on your birthday.

The end.