It's nearing the end of my first full day as a thirty-one-year-old person of the Earth and I'm sitting on the living room couch with my feet up on the coffee table and my hand inside a box of salt water taffy that Bevan, who returns tomorrow after three weeks away, mailed to me from Provincetown for my birthday. My iPhone six is abuzz with a steady group text message conversation between Matt (he's in Chicago), Mike (he's in Kansas City), Nate (he's in Grand Rapids) and I and The To Do List starring Aubry Plaza is playing on the television set, though it's not really that funny so I'm thinking about turning it off and watching Girls instead, probably something from season two.
I had a really great birthday yesterday, which ended over dinner at Dobbs Ferry in Hayes Valley courtesy of Kelly, Tommy and Bevan, who called the restaurant before we arrived and arranged to have a bottle of champagne delivered to our table. Oh also, here's a picture of my shiny forehead.
I'd like to note that I failed to go out tonight because I didn't leave work until almost seven o'clock, but it was still a good day, the highlight of which was when my supa dope co-workers Daniella, Gwyneth and Judy brought me out to lunch at Paragon as a day-late celebration of my birth.
I'm gonna go make that switch to Girls now. While I do that, below is an especially funny and gross and weird snippet from the group text message convo that I mentioned in the first paragraph.