21 to 21: A Birthday Countdown

So here we are, the beginning of a journey to my 21st birthday, which lies just a mere 21 days away. Some may say I am making too big a deal out of it, but I say I'm not making ENOUGH out of it. So there. . .

When I was at lunch the other day with my sister Aimee, I asked her what she thought I should fill these stories up with, seeing that I had 10 ideas, tops, and that I gotten myself into something maybe I couldn't accomplish. But helpful sister that she is, she gave me a few more ideas and created new ideas in my head that I then decided to lay claim to. So all in all, I feel ready to embark on this trek towards the big 2-1 with you, as I give you a true collection of stories about the years that I have lived and the times that I've had:

21 to 21:

I think the most logical place to start something like this is at the beginning. I was born on May 10, 1987 in Scottsdale, Arizona. Scottsdale Memorial North Hospital was the first building that tried to contain me in any way, shape or form (that is, if you don't include my dear mother's womb). Around the time that my mom began heading into the labor period, she was given a bowl of tomato soup. Almost immediately after completing said soup, my mom threw it all up, giving one very unfortunate nurse the scare of a lifetime as the red tomato soup came up completely undigested (do I need to explain. . . I don't think so). I now believe that this traumatic event caused a rift and has led to my complete dislike for tomatoes by themselves and in most situations (no, I don't want ketchup, tomato soup - obviously - or tomato on my sandwich; but I have grown to like tomato sauce with Italian food, and most mild salsas do me just fine!).

As I was on my way out of my watery home, the doctor began letting everyone know that I was nearly there (everyone being all three sets of my grandparents, my mom's sister, and both my parents, naturally). My parents did not know the sex that I would be, but the doctor seemed to have an idea. He began saying "Here she comes, here she comes!" (inside, I'm sure I was not amused). My dad insisted, however, that I was a boy and there were no ifs, ands, or buts about it. "It's a boy" I imagine he claimed. "Here HE comes!"

And at 9:57 p.m. local time, I did. There I was, a bundle of joy, I'm sure. Wrapped in the traditional blue blanket and passed around the room to all the family, I'm sure (only after the pros made sure I was all good).

And so began my journey into the world.

***UPDATE***

My mom posted a comment here and it gave some added details to the eventful weekend of my birth and I figured I would give it its due and put it after all of my words:

"The fact that I had been there all weekend and that it was Mother's Day -- and that my doctor was a Mom too helped make it all the more profound when you finally appeared to make my first Mother's Day memorable -- along with your grandmothers. Actually everybody was waiting outside the "delivery" room in anticipation except for Grandpa Bruce & Grandma Pam -- they were actually there for the "event", if you will. Minutes later -- and only minutes -- the rest were ushered in to welcome you into our family. The funniest memory I have though is when they wheeled me to my room, at midnight, there was an entourage with balloons, video cameras and it was like there was a movie star or something - we all watched you get your first bath -- no privacy there -- thankfully Dr. Haas made it in time though - arriving with wet hair from her shower she just made it :) I love these memories. Hope you don't mind me adding to them. Love, Mom "

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Come back tomorrow for the stirring continuation :)

Until then,