Labor Day? Not yet
Christmas? Thank goodness no
Halloween? Lovely, but no
Kara's Birthday. Yes.
This past weekend was filled with fun and celebration in honor of my birth 26 years ago. I'm modest, I know. But it truly was a great weekend, filled with visitors and friends, and a wedding where I was serenaded with happy birthday.
A short recap, because you must pretend to care:
Friday - wonderful Shabbat Dinner at Dave Wile's mom's house. She made an assortment of salads from my new favorite thing. 101 fresh summer salads from the New York Times. They were amazing. Here is the link. Try them all. All 101 of them.
Saturday: State Fair with Adam and Sally, our visitors for the weekend. It was wonderful, and animal and food filled. Sally and Adam seemed pleased with everything but the bloody cow in the Miracle of Birth barn. Bloody as in just gave birth. We could have skipped that one. Instead we just moved on and found some pronto pups to forget about it.
Saturday Evening: Great dinner at Barrio with my fantastic husband!
Sunday: Yoga, brunch, Lisa and Dan's Wedding. Now most of you have heard me complain for months about attending yet another wedding on my birthday. However, this like the one last year, gave me nothing to complain about. The lovely bride announced during her speech that it was my birthday and asked the band to play happy birthday. That made for a happy Kara.
However, the bride announced me as Kara Weinblatt. Fine. Until a woman comes running across the room like her pants were on fire towards me. Now Jeremy is new to this who marriage thing, so he has some things to learn, and here is a prime example. This woman runs up to our table and literally shouts, "Whose the Weinblatt?". Everyone looks at me. I sink into my chair. I am fairly used to this as my uncle is well known around town. I said, I am Alan's niece, Jay's daughter. This woman stares at me quizzically and literally grabs my arm and drags me across the room. Jeremy just watched the kidnapping occur with wide eyes as I was yanked away. He did not follow.
This woman drags me over to her family and finally explains the situation. Her Grandmother's last name was Weinblatt, and she had never met another. She quizzed me on my family genealogy and who was who. Well, I can hardly keep track of who is actually related to me and who my parents/grandparents call aunt/uncle/grandma but whom is not actually related. Therefore, when she probed. I froze. I froze and just said, my dad's email address is Weinblatt@aol.com I don't know anymore! I ran away, and proceeded to explain to Jeremy that, in the future, if anyone comes up to me shouting, follow me. Do not leave me unattended.
All in all a great weekend. I wish I was not born at such a popular wedding time, but you can't complain when 250 people sing happy birthday to you!