Yesterday I turned 22 years old. My birthday kind of snuck up on me! But it happened, and it was low key, and it was just right. I spent most of the day in the kitchen. I'm very cheap so I used what I had on hand and I baked for myself instead of buying something at the store. I made chocolate cinnamon beer cake with peanut butter buttercream, and then I made blueberry goat cheese ice cream. I was going for an " adult peanut butter and jelly sandwich" theme.
When Paul got home in the afternoon, he took me out for an early Thai dinner. There was a kid in the booth next to us who got an ice cream scoop with a candle in it, and I made Paul ask the waiter if free birthday ice cream was just for kids. It wasn't, and I also received an ice cream scoop. It was taro root ice cream, and it was fantastic. Then later in the evening, some friends came over and ate the treats and played Apples to Apples. All in all, pretty mellow. But I'm pretty mellow. But I saw my friends, I ate lots of ice cream, I got to wear my new dress, and I'm another year older, so that's pretty good in my book.
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