So my birthday was last week. 29. I'm still in denial.
We celebrated with dinner at the home of my favorite Episcopal priest's house. She was so sweet to invite me and my 5 roommates over for hamburgers and home made mac-and-cheese.
Then, this weekend we really celebrated by going camping. It was outdoors, out of town, away from FEMA trailers and building permits and everything, really. I layed on the dock and had girl talk with a housemate, watched my Houma pal make a fire, watched another housemate erect a tent with duct tape, stayed up way to late and drank way to much camp punch and had too good of a time with friends who really were too good to me. It was perfect.