I bought a cookie bouquet for my kids.
I wish there was an option to get Anti-Valentine’s Day cookies.
Cookies with messages like:
But sadly, it seems that love triumphs over disinterest and so I’m stuck with actually sending messages of love to my kids instead of snark.
I know they prefer snark.
The quinceañera party for the 15 year anniversary of the Village took place on Monday afternoon on the playa at the local bar, aka the bar I worked at from 10 pm to 12 am serving drinks to thirsty guests.
I got dressed up in all my quinceañera finery:
It was fun to celebrate with other villagers and even though only ONE OTHER PERSON got dressed up in theme (thank you, Moonbeam), I had a great time drinking spiked horhata and eating churros.
Of course, as I was bartending, I had to card everyone before pouring them a drink.
In my quinceañera dress.
A couple of young kids, barely legal (but legal, nonetheless) came by and asked for drinks.
I carded them – they looked YOUNG – and noted that they were all 23 or younger.
They asked me why I was so dressed up.
“It’s my quinceañera!” I told them.
One snarky young lady said to me, “Now I need to see YOUR ID!”
They all laughed heartily at her joke.
A 45-year old woman in a pink frilly dress and a tiara is not something you see everyday.
Unless you’re at BURNING MAN!