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Today I ring in the 32nd anniversary of my birth.  Yikes.  Those candles really pile up fast, don’t they?

Last year, I decided to make a guest list for the greatest (imaginary) birthday party EVER.  It was good to flex my inner geek muscles.  The guest list is just a part of the whole attraction; parties themselves are super fun to plan.  It is the actual doing; setting up, cooking, cleaning and stress of the event that sucks the fun out of it all.  Which is why I am allowing my imagination to run wild and indulging my inner child-diva today; this is what the party of my dreams would look like – if money, time, logic and the spacetime continuum were no object.

Oh, and if you are reading this, you must be just as cool as I am, and are therefore invited to my hip soiree.  You are so welcome.

We’ll call it Geek-a-palooza, and we’ll all wear matching t-shirts to commemorate the event.

Way back in Chi-town, there is this pretty rad theatre; Hollywood Boulevard; each of the theatres are themed, and the best one is the Coconut Grove.  The whole place is set to look like the streets of Casablanca from the greatest movie of all time, Casablanca, complete with Rick’s Cafe.  Even Nathan will watch it with me (again), and ahhh – it is magical.  If you’ve never seen the movie, never fear – we are all going to have our very own private screening at the party.

But having the birthday party to end all birthday parties in Woodridge, Illinois is pretty lame.  No matter.  I’m transporting the entire theatre to The Magic Kingdom in Disney World.  It will be plunked right under Cinderella’s Castle, and afterwards, you can ride Space Mountain until you puke up your cake and ice cream.

But not just any cake.  A giant, Hogwarts-shaped cake.

Rupert Grint is included.

Before we tear into the cake (I call Gryffindor Tower!!), we’ll dine on buttered scallops baked in tomato-apple cous cous from the best restaurant on earth; Meson Sabika.  After that wonderful appetizer, I’m eating an entire plate of curry chicken from Picabu Bistro; I’ll wash it all down with a Shirley Temple (extra cherries and a splash of orange juice) and eat my weight in Dole Whip.

Florence + The Machine and The Killers will keep us entertained with a special guest appearance by Mumford and Sons who will perform a rousing banjo-riffic rendition of Michael Jackson’s Thriller (hey, it could be awesome).

If you didn’t think I was an enormous geek before, there is no doubt that you do now.

As for favors, I’m commissioning custom American Girl Dolls to look like all the guest’s favorite Harry Potter characters.  I heard George Clooney is pretty partial to Hermione… (Now, hey – everyone loves Harry Potter and American Girl Dolls as much as I do; it is my fantasy after all.)  My three brothers will be beside themselves as they accept their Wesley brother dolls, and Alice will get the complete set – which will hardly fit into her room…

That’s alright, though.  Because Nathan has bought me a beautiful, palatial estate in Golden Oak for my birthday present; it is Disney’s community of single family homes that come complete with a resident pass to the parks.  I’m sure Alice will be able to find room to house all her new dolls somewhere in its 5,000 square feet. (Might as well shoot for the moon, right?)

Yeah, that’ll do.

At the end of the night, we’ll all gather around the castle and watch the biggest firework show that ever was.  When the finale is over, I’ll retire to the Cinderella Suite upstairs and dream of the most fantastical, amazing party there ever was.

Sigh.

It would be wonderful, wouldn’t it?  What is more likely to happen is this; I’ll take the kids out to lunch and maybe even the zoo, and I might even get lucky and get to eat someplace fancier than Panera Bread for dinner.  I’ll open a card from Nathan, put the kids to bed and head downstairs to have a little me time at the sewing machine.  Afterwards, I’ll snuggle up in bed and watch the last episode of Game of Thrones (Oh, the Red Wedding – WHHHYYYY???  The agony!) and drift off to sleep.

Another year down.

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