I’m baaaa-aaack!  I’m sure that you’re all just thrilled.  And as you know, my death-defying work deadline has passed.  I mean you might know if you’ve actually been reading my blog and not just admiring my fancy-pants blog design day after day.

Nevertheless, the deadline has passed, and the Halloween after-party whiplash that I thought that I had has almost healed.  I can now move my neck from left to right with only a tinge of burning, pulsating, excruciating pain.  Actually, my chiropractor has been nice enough to approve with my health insurance company a couple of therapeutic massages in hopes that I’ll quit crying to him and run far, far away never to show up at his office again.  Yeah right.  That’ll be the day when a chiropractor actually turns you away at his door explaining that you really don’t need a back adjustment, but a psychological adjustment might do just fine, thank you.

So, now that my neck is almost in working order, I must now get my blog back in working order.  I’ve been neglecting the poor thing much like a little lost bratty, nagging child that I try to ignore, but my conscience just won’t let me do it.  My conscience wins every time.  And my conscience is telling me that you, my little lost bratty, nagging lovely readers, are waiting for a story, and that I must write about…something.  Hmm.  My birthday, perhaps?  All of the freaking food that I ate this weekend, perchance?  The fact that if Bindi Sue is not soon housebroken, that I might have to take a match to my house in order to remove the tinkle smell from my rugs, you say?  Well, let’s just start with my birthday…

I turned 37 on Friday.  It’s hard for me to comprehend that I’m 37 years old.  And I’m not sure what 37 is supposed to feel like, but I don’t think that I feel 37.  In fact, I feel more like I’m 27—but maybe a little more wiser about the world.  And for some reason, on this birthday, I’ve been reflecting a good bit on my life.  And mainly about where my next 37 years will lead me (that is if I live that long).  GR and I don’t have small children to raise (been there, done that), we have no plans to move (as I said before, I plan to die in this house), nor do we have any grand plans of sailing away on a yacht around the world.  Does this mean that I should stop coloring my gray hair and retire to my front porch rocking chair now?  That is, if I actually had a front porch and a rocking chair.  Oh, I don’t know…perhaps I’m having a mid-life crisis, so let’s just move on before y’all join the ranks with my chiropractor and send me off to the psych ward.  I’m starting to babble.

So instead of crying about my age, I’ll just cheer up my pathetic little self by writing about all of the wonderful birthday gifts that were bestowed upon me last week.  Because I like to share.  Pictures, that is…not my gifts.

First off, let me just say that GR is a wonderful husband.  He may be a pain in my ever-expanding, sweet potato pie-loving ass, but mostly he is a wonderful husband.  And I’m singing his praises now because he worked so diligently on my birthday present for three straight days last week.  People?  He created for me a brand new boudoir!  Yes, I said boudoir, as in bedroom, y’all.  You see, I’ve had the same bedroom furniture for the past 12 years.  It’s kind of an orangey-colored, country-style, pine veneer that was fairly popular in 1995 when we bought it.  Or maybe it wasn’t popular, but the price was in-line with what we could afford at the time, so that’s what we decided on.  Oh, and one piece of info for later—we couldn’t afford the headboard and footboard that matched, so I’ve been headless and footless this entire time, too.  I’ve had a tough life.

(Side note—Broyhill still sells my exact bedroom set.  Must be more popular than what I thought.)

Anyhow, my very stylish SIL Big H and step-brother Phoo have a knack for finding wonderful pieces of furniture and painting them a distressed black.  So, for about a year now, GR and I have been discussing the idea of painting our bedroom furniture in this manner, but have never done anything about it.  Until last week, when GR whipped out the brushes and the paint and went to work.  But wait!  Not only did I get newly painted furniture, I got a newly painted bedroom as well!  And GR’s wonderfulness goes even further—he not only painted the bedroom with a color that I picked out, but he painted it a second time (different color) after we determined that the color that I picked out sucked!  Pain in the ass or not, he’s a good man.  Or perhaps I’m the pain in the ass?

So, let me share with you a few pictures of my new bedroom retreat.

Here’s a picture of the armoire before:

And here’s a picture of the armoire after:

And remember that piece of info about my headboard/footboard dilemma that I told you to save for later?  Well, when we moved into our current home, I made my own headboard using my sewing machine, a McCall’s pattern, and a little bit of wishful thinking…

Actually, it’s not hideous, but after five years, I was ready for a decorating change.  And I wanted a real headboard and footboard.  So week before last, I was scouring Craig’s List looking for a set that we (meaning GR) could paint that would hopefully blend nice with the furniture.  By sheer luck, I found a king set that is the exact style as my 1995 Broyhill Fontana furniture!  And after a 3-hour round-trip excursion to pick it up, GR primed it, painted it, and now it’s perfect!  See it here…

And with a few added touches to the room…

…and new lamps…

…it made for a very happy birthday!  Even though I turned 37.

Oh, I almost forgot!  Here are some pictures of a couple other items that I received.

Remember when I posted a Thursday Thirteen about my thirteen favorite candies?  Well, my sister was crazy kind enough to buy me all thirteen items from that list.  She’s secretly trying to fatten me up and hurry along those dentures, I just know it…

Big H and Phoo gave me this lovely glass star lantern that I plan to hang in a corner of my new boudoir.  It’s so pretty!  And shiny!  And it totally reminds me of a lantern at the local taco hut that we frequent.  Trust me, that’s a good thing, y’all…

Miss Margarita and Mr. Dewars gave me these lovely Christmas ornaments…

And as mentioned before, my co-workers gave me many stress-relieving goodies, and I also received gifts of the monetary variety (oh yeah!) from my mother, my MIL, GR’s sister, and my great-grandmother.

Finally, here’s a very cryptic picture of me wearing a sombrero whilst enjoying my birthday dessert at the local taco hut…

Olé, y’all!  You only turn 37 once…