It's Me, Sara Louise

Not only did Linda from oeke design blog pass on the Stylish Blogger Award to me (many thanks Linda) she updated the award badge to this round, fun, fuchsia, button you see before you. Very snazzy.

And since I just did one of these (I’m truly blessed with the style) and because it’s my birthday (a couple of days ago but whatever) I’ll make this Stylish Blogger Award a *special birthday addition*. So instead of only telling you about seven things, I’m going to tell you about seven six of my most memorable birthdays (how excited are you??).
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My brother and I both have February birthdays so when we were little we had a few combined parties. When I was three and my brother was six (it could have been four and seven), we had a sleep over and watched Star Wars. But since this was before the VCR days (yes, I’m that old) my parents rented a movie projector and Darth Vader was beamed onto my living room wall. How cool is that?

My tenth birthday was an ice skating party at Rockefeller Center. Here’s the good back story; there was this gorgeous man from Chile who worked for my mother. He was in his twenties and looked like Omar Sharif, I had a huge crush on him, completely oblivious to the fact that 1) I was a child, and 2) he wasn’t straight. No matter, he was wonderfully dreamy and when I asked him to come to my little (but yet still fabulous) ice skating party, he accepted. The night before, he had gone out on the town, passed out on the subway home, and woke up to find his wallet had been stolen, and didn’t have time to go home and change if he didn’t want to be late to my little, fabulous, ice skating party (a lesser man would have blown it off). He ice skated with a group of screaming ten year old girls, hungover, mugged, and in a day old Armani suit. What a sport. (He’s still gorgeous, and I still have a crush on him. Thankfully, his husband doesn’t mind).

We had brunch at Tavern on the Green followed by the matinee of Cats for my fifteenth birthday. I’m not sure if it was all the food we ate, or just if Cats was that boring, but my mother, godmother, best friend, Bun, and me, all fell asleep during it. And why my mother, a women who detests cats, would subject herself to an afternoon of people dressed like them, creeping around the audience is beyond me.

My Sweet 16 was dinner at The Essex House with a chocolate cake covered in perfect layers of raspberries and a birthday card made out of white chocolate. But I was sick. I couldn’t enjoy anything, even the glass of Champagne my mother was letting me have because I felt that terrible. And she didn’t believe me! She thought I was being a brat and pouting because my gorgeous Omar Sharif lookalike had the flu and couldn’t make it. It wasn’t until the end of the meal when she finally felt my forehead and realized I was burning up… H E L L O! No 16 year old girl is going to pass up a glass of Champagne unless she is sick. Fact.

There’s not much I can say about my 21st birthday because I don’t remember much. It was spent in College Station, Texas and involved a shot called a Bloody Flaming Frogs Ass. That’s pretty much it. Game over.

My 30th was spent in NYC and was A W E S O M E. I won’t go into much detail because it was with my ex-boyfriend and I don’t want to incur the huffing puffing wrath of The Husband. So instead of expanding, I’ll do bullet points *The Essex House hotel (the same hotel where I spent my sweet 16, it was a nice full circle kind of moment)* *kir royals (lots and lots and lots)* *museums* *Central Park* *shopping* *The Monkey Bar* and *King Cole Bar (for drinks with my Omar Sharif lookalike and his ridiculously handsome husband, see, full circle)*
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