My first official birthday gift. This was given to me by a co-worker. See my old favorite mug looking shunned in the background?

Tomorrow's my birthday. I have tricked a large group of my friends- 14 in all - into having dinner Friday night at a local Mexican restaurant.

Let me interject a comment from my 16-year-old son here: "Mom, I am impressed you even have 14 friends."

 I called the restaurant to make a reservation last night and was told they are not taking reservations from 6-8 pm. We live in a college town and this is the first week back for students. Because of this, the restaurants will all be fairly full. The owner offered us a 4:30 time and I laughed. I'm not going to be so old that I have to eat during the early-bird specials. Then the owner offered me an 8 pm. I took this time but this morning I am looking at it in a different light.

Eight at night is kind of late for dinner. I usually eat before 7 and then by 8 I am pretty much done for. That's when I pull on the *give-up-on-life pants and settle down for the evening. So, the question now becomes: Am I too old to eat that late? Gosh, I sure hope not.

*My son's slang for sweatpants.

Tomorrow I go back to work after a nice week and a half off. I didn't get anything truly productive done, and I am not ashamed. I spent time with my kids, read several books, slept in and cooked and baked for family and friends. I am a little disappointed my vacation is over. I don't think I am ready to get back to work. I'm not dreading it completely—I enjoy where I work and have great co-workers, but the kids still have the rest of the week off before going back to school, and I will miss having all day with them.

It does not quite feel like a new year to me yet. My husband has been gone the past five days, and this is the first new year in a very long time we have not spent together. I will feel better when he gets home tomorrow. So, I think I will start my new year tomorrow instead of today.

I am making a list (surprise, surprise) of all the things it would be nice to accomplish this year. I am not calling it a resolution—I hate that word—but a Things to Do list:

Things to Do (in continual revision and not to be confused with a resolution)

Okay, so I haven't started the list yet, but I will. Maybe the first thing on it should be:

Stop procrastinating!

My youngest turned 10 today. I can't believe I'm (I mean she) is that old. She had a blast at her party. We had peg-leg (three-legged) races, egg relays, water balloon fights and, as requested by my daughter, dunking (bobbing). We didn't have any apples to bob for so they settled for grapes. It's funny how easily amused they are at this age. We made a red velvet cake with Nutella filling and cupcakes. The cake was delicious. It wasn't the prettiest thing ever, but it was edible. The girls were grossed out when I told them it might turn their poo red. It's like an after party surprise.

Pirate cupcakes

Treat bags in a pirate's chest

Mo and the her mateys in their bejeweled eye patches

Bunting made from brown paper bags (I forgot to take down the fly tape before I took the pictures. It did  come down before the guests arrived.)

Egg the Plank (Mo looks like she is plotting in the background)

Pirate flag adorning the wall above the food

Jon and Maggie all dressed up in their pirate gear. Apparently, modern day pirates like the guitar (hence Maggie's T-shirt)

Let me preface this post by saying that I am sick and feeling particularly negative.

Apparently, my husband and I are snobs. Parent snobs, that is. Last night we attended our son's final band concert of the year (he's a trumpet player), and sitting there in an auditorium full of parents with kids the same age as ours, I realized I had no desire to befriend them.

I bemoan the fact we have very few friends our age, but now I know why. As Jon put it — we are snobs. That is not to say we would not be friends with any of them, but the reality is we have little in common with most of them. We were young parents. Our oldest is 14 and our youngest nine. So, most of the parents are either older, with their 14-year-old the youngest, or younger than us, with their 9-year-old the oldest. We are kind of in a strange situation.

Most of the people we really connect with have young children. I like children, (I have three of my own) but when you have already done the young kid thing, you rarely want to relive it with someone else's children. Living in a college town we have become friends with several people much younger than us, but then again there is the issue of kids. When you are married with three kids much of your conversation revolves around that fact. (Not exactly stimulating for the under 25 crowd.)

So, what do we do? Do we suck it up and try to connect with more parents or should we be satisfied with what we've got — few friends, but ones that will last a lifetime, regardless of distance or time between visits?

This image was borrowed from Orchard Farm Soaps' Etsy page.

I think I have found my new favorite soap. I love homemade soaps and am always looking for the right fragrance and moisture. Today I think I found it from a local seller. Orchard Farm Soaps are inexpensive, fragrant and leave your skin feeling oh so good. I sound like a commercial, but really, this is the real deal. The bar I bought was Calendula Lemongrass. Orchard grows the calendula themselves on their Moscow, Idaho farm.

Jon and I came upon this soap while at our tiny mall today. WSU is having their Mom's Weekend so the mall was full of local vendors. Orchard had set up a table and had displays of bar soap, lotion bars, soap balls, fragrant spray, lip balm, baby bum balm and other great items. What really solidified my, soon to be, devotion was the way I paid. I didn't have any cash on me and their credit card machine wasn't working so, through the miracle of iPhones, she sent me a Paypal request and I paid her on the spot from my account. Okay, that is pretty cool. Plus, it didn't hurt that she was super nice as well. She may be my new friend, she just doesn't know it yet.

So, what I'm getting at is: buy from her. She has an Etsy shop and everything — Orchard Farm Soaps

I have a webcam on my laptop. I feel cool to have one that is built right into my Macbook. Okay, not that cool after I found out all of the Macs had them built right in. The problem with webcams is that when you use it, either to chat with someone or just to take weird pictures of yourself, it is hard to look straight at it.

  

I will admit, I could be the only one to have this particular problem, but it is a problem none the less. When I use my webcam a mini picture of me comes up on the screen along with the picture of who I am speaking with. I am constantly looking at my own image to make sure my three chins aren't showing at the same time, you can't see every gray hair on my head and the computer is pointed away from the condemned area that is the office/dining room/art studio/library/photography studio/pantry.

As you can imagine, my eyes are never looking straight at the camera for long and this can result in the other party feeling as though I don't care. I care, I do. I just care more about appearances than I do about our conversation — unless of course you have something really funky going on in the background of your webcam. So far I haven't been that lucky. 

It is also very unfortunate that my webcam has all these affects you can apply to the pictures. Such a time sucker. It took me five hours to write this post. As you can see by the following photos, I am not the only one who can't help but be enamored with this software.

I know my blog doesn't get an unlimited amount of traffic, but there are some people out there who do read it. If you are one of them, or want to be, would you please become a follower? Not in a weird stalkerish kind of way, but in a hey, you sometimes have something clever to say and I want to read about it sort of way. Wow, that is some sentence!!!

So far my follower's box looks kind of pathetic. Only one person is in it and he is my husband. He kind of has to be there. Don't be shy. You don't even have to have your picture here. You can follow me anonymously. I don't mind. I just want to be loved.

Now that I have poured my heart out to all you readers- why not boost my ego a bit and click that little button on the right hand side that will make you a loyal follower for life.

Jon and I were able to spend a few days in Vegas last week and we had a blast. Our friends Tony and Bryce joined us and I must admit I was a little leery about doing Vegas with the three stooges. I had a great time. I learned a bit about playing craps, got tons of free drinks, ate at an all-you-can-eat buffet and saw sharks.

Where else but Vegas can you see a swimming pool with a clear water slide through a shark tank (Golden Nugget), touch a horseshoe crab and a ray (Mandalay Bay) and play sexy blackjack (The Gold Spike)?

Okay, I didn't play sexy blackjack. To be honest, there was nothing sexy about this casino, even after the remodel. The dealers are dressed in black pants or skirts with wife beater tank tops and cheap heels- but maybe that is sexy to the drunk at the table and the man at the registration desk who appeared to be 120 years old.

Tony made me laugh so much I had a headache. He also made me snort in public several times and I try to never snort in public. I have photographic evidence that Tony loves German Chocolate cake. I was waiting for him to spew chocolate cake and coconut at me from across the table, but fortunately it didn't happen.

We even managed to find time to take a picture in front of the Vegas sign.

And we survived Bryce's driving and his constant antagonizing of pedestrians. (Although they really should learn to stop crossing the street when the little red hand comes up.)

All in all it was a great trip. Thanks Jon, Tony and Bryce.