A Few of His Favorite Things

It was the husband's birthday Saturday, and I knew he was excited about having the whole day off, so I planned some surprise activities all involving his favorite places and people. He tried his hardest to get as many hints out of me as he could, but I was surprisingly successful at warding him off.

Granted, he did guess a few of the day's events, but he is just good like that. Even when I don't give him clues, he's still a master guesser.
It couldn't have been avoided.

I had planned on hiding a bunch of helium inflated balloons in my trunk and then sneaking out to retrieve them in the night, but then pictured releasing them over his sleeping head and him awaking to the sound of 26 balloons hitting the ceiling or their strings tickling his nose in the night and ruining my surprise. So that idea was kaput.

Plus, I forgot to get them after work and couldn't think of a valid excuse as to why to venture back out again when I got home. All minor details.

I had also planned on writing on all of his car windows with window markers like I did last year (as kind of a new tradition, ya know), but dang blast, it snowed. A lot. Therefore rendering that idea impossible..

I guess what I'm trying to say is that the universe was intent on ruining all of my birthday surprises. I had to settle on decorating the bathroom mirror with a dry-erase marker and calling it good.

Then I remembered the left-over punch-ball balloons I hadn't used when making our wedding reception lanterns. By this time, the husband was asleep, but I was still paranoid at the idea of him waking at the sound of balloons being inflated and therefore decided that putting two closed doors between us would relieve that worry.

Keep in mind that my surprise anxiety was starting to escalate by this point. And that is precisely why it took me approximately twenty minutes to, inch-by-inch, close the bedroom and office doors. And the universe didn't relent, because they both immediately became very squeaky, and I could have sworn his eyes were open for at least part of the time.

It was a pain-staking effort, I tell you, because I didn't dare move an inch without waking him. He has the unique ability to be dead to the world one minute and then jump up the next, alert and somewhat startled as to why he's suddenly standing.

I probably would have died right there if he had caught me in the act.

Needless to say, my nerves were fried by the time I hung the balloons over each doorway and crawled into bed. I was so hurried in my effort to be sneaky that I mistakenly hung three orange balloons right next to each other in the dark. That is a big no-no in the world of Corinner-Elly. I was mortified.

And then, wouldn't you know it, as I lay there listening to the husband's gentle snoring, I started to remember all of the other things I should have done before snuggling up. Thinking of his card and gifts resting neatly in my nightstand drawer, I painstakingly slid from the bed (smartly waiting until he restlessly rolled over, to best cover my movement) and took another twenty minutes trying to silently slide out the drawer, remove its contents and tip-toe around the bed to place them on his nightstand.

I immediately decided even careful movement in such a close proximity would be a problem and therefore dropped down on all fours and slowly crawled around the base of the bed. I'm sure from an outside perspective, it all would have looked rather ridiculous, but I was determined. I was like Pocahontas creeping through the woods, you couldn't hear a single movement..

That is until I hit every creaky floorboard in our entire apartment. I knew this was the end. He'd peek over the edge any minute now and see me crouched at the foot of the bed, a few presents in hand, card in mouth, looking back at him terrified and it'd all be over.

I waited for a few tense minutes until.. nothing happened. Realizing that I'd better just do it like a band-aid, quick and pain-less, I stretched out fantastically, plopped those bad-boys on his nightstand and raced back around to my side. He didn't even bat an eye.

And so I finally fell asleep, two hours later than I should have and with grand ideas still buzzing around in my head of all of the other things I still wanted to do but couldn't with no remaining courage left to venture out again.

I found out the next morning that the husband had awoken some time later and seen his birthday morning surprise awaiting him. But I guess, in way, my efforts were still a success. He was surprised, and I didn't die in the meantime. Which is always good.

He was gifted two DVDS (Megamind and Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, both of which he constantly quotes), a hilarious birthday card containing a voucher for a 1-hour deep tissue massage and a pack of cards, documenting 52 of the many reasons why I love him. (I take no credit, Pinterest is my guide.)

They included such things as 'because he dressed up like a Viking with me for Halloween, even though it was hot and itchy.' and 'because he eats whatever I put in front of him and isn't a picky eater.' (Apparently I spoke too soon on that one, seeing as he refused to eat 'brinner' the next Sunday at my parents. I was quite surprised.)

A few that I forgot to include but are worth mentioning are 'because he, unknowingly, squeezes my hand very tightly when we're driving. Like death grip tight.' and 'because it's impossible for him to focus/listen to what I'm saying and/or praying when the TV is on.'

And so we got up, went to Denny's to redeem his 'free Grand Slam birthday breakfast' and raced over to American Fork for his surprise appointment at Lehi's Ole Town Barber Shop (complete with haircut, massage and beard-trim with a straight razor). It was pretty spiffy. She even used heated shaving cream and vintage looking aftershave. He was a veritable Dapper Dan afterwards. Literally.

Then we picked up a gift from his parents' house and shopped for a bit. I'm ashamed to say that we bought more things for me than we did the birthday-boy, but I can't help it if he likes making me happy. ;) After all, this birthday was about all of his favorite things..

Which happens to include 'challenges' and 'wings', both of which are a part of the eating experience at Wingshak. So we ate a few tasty morsels for lunch, admired his picture on the 'wing challenge wall of fame' and once again headed north towards, debatably, his FAVORITEST PLACE EVER: Cabela's.

Where we purchased a 'manly' insulated lunch bag (he was ruthlessly teased previously by co-workers for taking mine) complete with two aluminum water bottles for a steal-of-a-deal. He was quite proud of my haggling skills. Hey, we can't help it if we found in the $16.99 bin when it should have been in the $36.99..
Deal with it, cashier lady.

It's his birthday presen to himself! He's so happy...

We sadly missed out on the daily fish-feeding, due to the only times scheduled being 12:00 and 6:00 PM, which make sense for the fish but lands right in the middle of meal time for us humans too. I mean, who schedules fish feedings then??! The mind boggles..

I shamefully neglected to take any pictures up until this point. And therefore, will let them tell the rest of the story. For the most part.

 See? He's happy..

 and also surprised!!

 Our next stop was Scheels, a place to which we'd never been but heard great things about.

Don't ask me why he's picking Thomas Jefferson's nose. It was his birthday and, well, I try not to ask. 

 The inside was pretty dang amazing. And huge! Complete with awesome fish tank display.

 Not to mention a giant Ferris wheel in the middle of the building. FANTASTICNESS.

 The husband was convinced that they saved money by cutting this prairie dog in half and using both ends in their display. We were tempted to prove that theory but didn't follow through.

Overall, Scheels was a win. It was definitely added to his list of favorite places by the end of our visit. I highly recommend checking it out. It has something for everyone and is very family friendly.

Our second to last scheduled event was dinner at the Red Iguana. We had tried it for the first time on our way back from the honeymoon after recommendations from family and Guy Fieri from Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives and fell in love with the deliciousness. So after a short drive around the state capital to kill time, we ended up making the two block trip to the Red Iguana 2 after finding the first to be closed due to lack of power and met up with his BFF/2nd favorite person, (I reserve the rights for 1st) cousin Eric.

Surprise!!! Okay.. he guessed it before hand, but I tried.

Sorry that I caught you with your mouth full husband. And on your birthday too..

He also guessed my final plans for the evening: a surprise showing of the new James Bond movie, Skyfall, at the Thanksgiving Point Megaplex (a film which he has been dying to see for months now), but we had some time to kill so Eric suggested a surprise outing to a nearby park to kill some time.

He had planned on taking the husband sledding in the freshly fallen snow, but in a surprise (theme of the day) and twisted turn of events, ended up hitting black ice on the freeway and slamming into the middle barrier. We were following immediately behind him and therefore witnessed the whole terrifying ordeal.

He hit hard enough that the airbags inflated and his truck was pretty mangled, so we pulled off and hurriedly jumped between the center barriers to wait for the police to arrive, but eventually decided to get off the freeway for safety's sake due to the buckets of snow that were now falling.

And so after a miraculously well-placed prayer, a lot of scared minutes, freezing temperatures, emergency bathroom trips to 7-Eleven and a tow truck later, we slowly puttered home along the unploughed belt route. It was very scary and we were very blessed. 

Needless to say, that was NOT a pleasant birthday surprise. Thankfully, Eric wasn't seriously injured, but we did end up missing the movie in the meantime.

And... I just realized that this post was quite the saga. It just goes to show how determined I was that the husband have the best birthday ever! Which, according to him, it was.

Well, minus that last bit and all.
But I guess you can't plan everything.

Out With the Old.

For the past year or two, I've been all about sending people greeting cards on their birthday. Call me old-fashioned, but I still think it's fun getting something in the mail. (Especially if it has a check..)

The husband understands this excitement. He loves opening packages. The minute they arrive, he texts me asking if he can unearth their contents. And most of the time it's lame stuff, like toilet paper and lamp harps. But he still loves it. I think it's the thrill of the unknown.

Needless to say, we both love surprises.

That being said, every time I head to the store to stock up on birthday cards, I find that one theme in general is always surmount: getting/being old.

 

On the one hand, I find this irritating. I need variety here! Not to mention when I wish people a happy birthday, I generally try to avoid being insulting. Granted, if the card is too funny to pass up, I may occasionally purchase one that is more on the teasing side, but as a general rule, no. 

On the other hand, sometimes it's just unavoidable. I think when a person reaches a new decade, it's kind of mandatory to tease them about their age.

That being said, today is my sister, Katerina Cupcake's, thirtieth birthday. That's a big 3-0 people. And I totally forgot to send her a birthday card mocking her old age! Don't worry, I still sent a card, but I totally missed out on a choice opportunity here.

So let me just take the chance to give a little shout out to my aged next-oldest sister. Happy birthday Katerina Cupcake! You're and oldie but a goodie! :)

There. Now I feel better.

Taken by Surprise.

The diagnosis has come in.
It's been determined that I suffer from extreme surprise anxiety.

Not only am I petrified with fright when people jump out at me from the darkness, I also find it difficult to successfully carry out a surprise for someone without becoming extremely jittery.

And let's not even mention my inability to maintain the smallest semblance of a poker face.

So this morning when I got it in my head to decorate my good buddy Hamm's Acura in celebration of her 22nd birthday, I knew the symptoms of my disease would flare up. For a split second, I contemplated taking a safer route. One that involved less sneakiness and therefore inner-turmoil.

But after remembering the 300 balloons she inflated for my 22nd birthday, I knew I had to 'woman up' and just get-r-done.

So I drove to our dealership, hoping she'd be safely seated in her new position at the cashier's desk and therefore out of sight, and crept across the parking lot with window markers in hand. I had scarcely written "Honk!! It's my birthday!" across the back windshield before I heard the familiar screech of the sales lot intercom from across the block.

"Ma'am.. Ma'am. Excuse me ma'am, is that your car?..", called a familiar but stern voice.

I knew full and well it was the service manager, trying to tease me, but that didn't stop my surprise anxiety from kicking in. Did he not recognize me from the distance?.. Was I doing something illegal without knowing it?? Had I started tagging the WRONG CAR!?? A part of me wanted to instantly drop to the ground and scurry for cover.

But somehow I managed to maintain my calm as I jokingly shook my fist at the service station window and laughed nervously.

Before long, I was finished. A lickety-split masterpiece had been created, parked alongside the curb just waiting for its owner to discover it. I was pleased with myself, but also (you guessed it) anxious about a myriad of things.

What if Hamm was irritated by my causing her extra window washing? What if the owner of my dealership saw the end result of my work and was offended by my usage of the word 'bangable'? What if the service manager really was angry??!.. (Something I had never before witnessed from the light-hearted man yet somehow instantly recognized as the only possibility.)

My heart fluttered nervously during the last few steps of my journey to the safety of my upstairs office desk, before jovial taunts from the service advisers returned my mind to ease. They had recognized me after all.

And better yet, the owner hadn't noticed and obviously wouldn't have cared if he did. Hamm was certainly going to be happily surprised and the world was right again.

I just hope she realizes what I put myself through.
I risked death from 'surprise anxiety' on her behalf.

And that is a very real concern.

The Bestest Burfday Ever.

Being a twin, growing up I never had a birthday to myself.
But I didn't mind. Much to the contrary in fact.

I loved always having a best friend to share everything with.
The only problem was, who throws the surprise party if your best friend is your twin. It's her birthday too!

The other problem was, our birthday was in the summer. So all school year long we decorated lockers and sent balloons to our friends during class to celebrate their b-days, but when July 7th came around and school was out, all of our friends seemed to be vacationing.

But this year, oh this year, I was spoiled rotten.
Somehow, a mixture of AMAZING roommates & not moving home for the summer equated to THE best birthday I've ever had.

This is how my day went:

Actually... I should probably preface.

The week before my birthday, Lacy-Hacy left for Minnesota to visit her older sister. Remembering the 500 sticky notes she had plastered on every available surface in my room upon my return from England, I decided to leave her a little welcome home present as well.

After weaving in and out of streamers for 30-minutes, I left to see a movie with my other roomie, Hamm, utterly pleased with myself. Little did I know, only a short two hours later I would come home to find the tables had been completely turned.

After walking in to the apartment, Lacy-Hacy was acting kinda strange... She kept trying to convince me that she needed to go get a drink while blocking the hallway and likewise the entrance to my room. Confused but determined to use my bathroom before we left, I pushed past her and around the corner to find...

All of the streamers transplanted to MY room!

But she didn't leave it at that. The girl's a criminal genius, I tell ya.

I was trip wired, my toilet bowl was saran wrapped, my bathroom mirror/sink was vandalized, my sock drawer emptied under my sheets and my immaculate shoe organization scrambled beyond belief.

And that was only the half of what she had PLANNED to do should I have given her more time!

But even her devious mind couldn't compare to my extraordinary intelligence, because I noticed the trip wire before it got me, I went to throw a tissue into the toilet before going and discovered her treachery and I felt the socks under my sheets before I climbed into bed.

The fact that I neglected to remove the trip wire promptly and later stumbled fantastically is besides the point.

Needless to say, she was pleased with herself.

Telling me it was an early birthday surprise, I expected nothing more on my actual birthday.

So I wake up early on the big day to get ready for a birthday breakfast with 'da twinneh' and open my door to find the first of many surprises.

A beautiful pink saucer chair, an amazing card/balloon, some certified Minnesota moose poop (chocolate covered peanuts) and Bananagrams. *YAY*

Lacy-Hacy and Hamm had remembered everything I wanted without me having to tell them a thing. :) The epitome of true friendship.

Smiling happily, I made my way out to the parking lot to find my car had also been visited during the night.

Lacy-Hacy had smeared every window with birthday wishes amongst other things... I couldn't believe it. The little turd.

One flamboyant car ride later, I ate a scrumptious breakfast and exchanged presents with 'da twinneh'. She gave me the cutest pink-orange nail polish, an adorable pair of purple earrings and a gift card to Walmart. Once again, exactly what I wanted.

We spent the remainder of the morning together, revelling in birthday excitement. If you weren't aware, 'da twinneh' lives everyday in preparation for her next birthday. And when that day comes, oh, we milk it for all it's worth. ("It's our burf-day!...")

At lunchtime, we left to meet up with the parents and Gem for lunch at Tucanos. Happily, I did not reenact the fantastical spill I had during my last visit.

Food went flying. Face went red. It wasn't pretty.

I was, however, required to dance around with a tambourine while the whole staff sang a Brazilian birthday song. 'Da Twinneh' refused.

Afterwards, I drove back to my parents' house and took it easy for a bit. My phone was constantly buzzing from all of the wall posts on Facebook from friends wishing me a happy birthday. I couldn't believe there were so many. (Over 50! Yes... I counted.)

I knew Hamm wanted to take me out to dinner, so I went back to the apartment. It was very... quiet. Little did I know, Hamm was crouched in my room, waiting to ambush me as soon as I rounded the corner.

 

Along with the 300 balloons she had inflated over the course of the day! How that girl didn't pass out, I'll never know. 

I thought surely this would be the last of many surprises, but I was wrong.

Earlier in the day, Gem answered a call from Lacy-Hacy in the car, leading me to believe they were both conspiring to throw me a surprise party. But being the best liar I've ever met, Gem had a completely one sided conversation about going country dancing that night (with Lacy-Hacy on the other end quite confused), in order to dispel my suspicion. The tricky devil. :P

Needless to say, I was completely oblivious when Hamm carted me all over Provo to look at different design styles in the architecture.

My mind: "Yay! Finally someone who appreciates design as much as I do! I'm going to spout out as many vocab terms as I can possibly remember. What a nice friend to indulge me on my birthday."

Hamm's mind: "You're really cute... but I have NO IDEA what your saying... I just need to keep you busy for a few more hours..."

So we eat dinner at Pizza Pie Cafe, which was ridiculously busy, much to her delight, I'm sure. Ready to leave, I start to stand up when she decides she needs another salad.

After dessert. After JUST telling me how stuffed she was.

Did I suspect? Of course not! Why would I?

Hamm's a healthy girl. She likes her greens...

And gullible is written on the ceiling.

I'm content. I've had an amazing birthday. I'm ready to go home and watch a movie with my besties. But, as I'm sure you've now realized, the celebrations are not quite over.

I begin up the three flights of stairs in my stairwell, getting to the second floor before realizing something... The steps are a little more colorful than they were before I left.

Yet another roomie, Chan, left me happy little notes all the way up, listing my best qualities and complimenting my undie drawer. Haha. I've never loved climbing stairs so much in my life.

I open the door and am welcomed with a cacophony.

Commence surprise party with 30+ friends. Insert fun-fetti birthday cake with trick candles that DO NOT extinguish. Notice pink streamer and balloon explosion. Find a present your amazing friend Stef left at your door containing fabulous scrapbooking items. Proceed with presents, sand volleyball and swimming. Remember to play the toothpick game and open a present from the Spanish Fork YSA guys containing a pregnancy test, toilet bowl cleaner, uglier-than-dirt China doll, glow sticks, regifted book, fairy doll and 'Get-Well-Soon' card.

Become overwhelmed and immensely happy. :)

So I went to sleep, feeling happier than ever and so, so blessed for good friends and family. I considered being sad that the day was over, but that only lasted a split second before I realized that I can live it up every day of the year!

I've already employed the 'last week was my burfday...' line successfully in various different scenarios. 100% positive results.

We'll see how well that works in six months.