IT'S PARTY TIME

That's right folks. "We're going to a party! It's a birthday party! It's your birthday party! Happy birthday, darling; we love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much." That's Bright Eyes. I'm not just crazy.

Anyhow.

Friday is my fiance's birthday. It's no Erin birthday, but it should be a good time. We've got friends coming out with us, and it's a Friday, besides. Can't go wrong with that.

But what we're doing: no idea.

He's the most indecisive person. And this time, it truly is up to him what we want to do. Small, quiet bar? Loud, college-esque bar? Sports bar? Live music? Who knows. Not he. Not I. But it's a birthday, so it has to be fun. Right?

When do birthdays get less fun? My mom doesn't seem to be counting down the days 'til her birthday, and my stepdad doesn't even want to be reminded. Yet each year, I look forward to getting whatever I want, and going out, and being with friends, and eating cake. Lots of cake. Presents. Candy. Cards in the mail, etc., etc. Yet -- and I know I'm not alone here -- when it's over, this is what's going through my head: "Dang. Only 364 days 'til I get to do that again."

Enough sad talk. It's party time. I'd go so far as to say it's Peanut butter jelly time. Yesss.

(Photo: By moi. I thought it illustrated the moment of party-dom well.)