I turn 31.
My niece writes me an adorable card. "I love you so munch. I am glad you are heere in this great big woould with me. PS I am glad you are here with me."
Dudes I have made out with send me birthday wishes.
I receive an eCard.
My mom gives me a cowboy hat with sparkly dots.
My ex calls. He says I am a wonderful person. Twice.
We go to a restaurant.
We eat pizza.
I delicately nibble.
I introduce everyone.
Someone sees Demetri Martin.
I explain how I bought a hot dress when I saw him perform.
I explain how I have resolved to not fool around with any more comics.
I explain how I made this resolution since learning of the term "chucklefucker."
Many jokes about glory holes are made.
I talk about my lesbian roommates' firm bodies.
Someone is going to a bachelor party at a strip club in Queens later.
Steve tells this person to prepare himself for lots of cesarean scars and stretch marks.
The busboy is carrying a sparkler and singing happy birthday.
You can tell he really means it.
Melissa gives me removable bling tattoos.
Melissa drops a wine glass.
Melissa drops a tray of pizza.
You can tell she really means it.
I drink 900 glasses of wine.
Many more jokes about glory holes are made.
More inquiries as to the lesbians' firm bodies.
Talk about sex.
Talk about sex.
Talk about sex.
Talk about Grand Theft Auto.
Shakti has to leave because of her expensive dog.
I explain what a glory hole is because someone doesn't know.
I am totally wrong.
I drink 622 more glasses of wine.
I spill my Makers.
I drunk dial Jim Norton.
I drunk text Jim Norton.
I drunk dial 27 other people.
I leave all my presents at a bar.
I'm pretty sure I hit on my friend who has a girlfriend.
I eat pancakes and bacon and frozen yogurt.
I drink Super Food energy beverage.
I check my MySpace account.
I check my Nerve account.
It is the most perfect birthday ever.