Wednesday, December 07, 2005


The Architecture Student turns 30 on Sunday! He’s taking it a little hard, probably because he never thought he’d be thirty and still in school, so to cheer him up, I am planning the most marvelous party. I wish I could figure out how to post pictures and change font from this Mac (none of my options actually show up in my New Entry box anymore), because the invitations are fab. I scanned this photograph from the Sexy Attorney’s foyer, with this toothless old geezer in a Parisian café, grinning wickedly from under his beret. Then on the back, I printed:

He’s ancient! He’s old!
He’s feeling the cold!
So for his soiree,
wear your toupee,
your best cane or wig;
old age is the gig!

The Dress is “Geezer.”

I know the poem is rotten, but I was under serious time constraint…as in “five minutes because they have to go out TODAY.” So A.S. is aware that I am throwing him a party, but he doesn’t know everyone will be wearing wigs and canes and suspenders. Boy, is he going to be mad. This time of year, tombstone decorations are very reasonable. Apparently there are big vulture balloons you can purchase that say something like, “Your youth is dead.”

Anyway, I’ve invited all of his closest friends and family, and a few of mine, and we’re having an oyster roast with chili and beer, and cake and cookies, and a big fire in the biggest syrup kettle I’ve ever seen (like a shallow, cast iron bowl used for making cane sugar). It’s as big as a tractor tire. Anyway, Mom has redone the backyard, so we’re all going to my parents’ house for the party. It’s going to be excellent…although about a week and a half after his actual birthday. On his real birthday, he’ll be staring bleary-eyed at his thesis project, preparing for his huge presentations on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Gross. What a wretched way to spend a birthday.

From here on out, I decree that all birthdays should be spent on tropical islands nursing fruity bevvies with little umbrellas. All those in favor?


Nothing But Bonfires said...

The invitations ARE excellent. Sean is borrowing a walker we found in our attic that we think belongs to our 800 year old landlady. HOPE SHE DOESN'T NEED IT SUDDENLY! I may also glue cotton wool balls to his hair.

Jemima said...

Ahahahah! (cackling) I can't wait! I wish you were coming. You could wear slippers and curlers. Ooh, maybe *I* will!