This weekend was my birthday weekend. Now, if you don’t already know, I’m not a big fan of making a bigger deal of things that ought not to be a big deal in the first place. Birthdays fall into this category. When you’re turning 7, 10, even 16, making it a big deal makes sense to me. Once you’ve passed 21, though, it’s just a waste of energy. Moreover, it’s downright embarrassing. The last thing I need is 10 people singing an overly repetitive song at me in public. And that happened.
On Friday, which was Halloween for those of you unAmericans, our department was planning to go to lunch on the roof of a nearby building because it was going to be a nice day. We probably won’t get very many more of those. The fact that it was Halloween isn’t really important, I just wanted to type unAmerican because it’s a real word. Look it up. Anyway, Halloween is the day before my birthday so I was expecting little more than a few costumes and a sunny picnic lunch. Wrong. This is the part where I was sang to in public. Sang at in public. I tried to sing along and make it look like it was actually Jeremiah’s birthday but you can’t throw fake extrovertism at a real extrovert. It bounces back. We ate some random candies and baked goods we had brought to the office at varying times that week and the Hobgoods gave me a gift wrapped in Harry Potter World adverts. I don’t know if that was a really well planned thematic idea or just a fluke, but I was appreciative nonetheless. The gift was a stone plaque with scripture on it and, most importantly, eagles. Birds of prey are my favorite types of animals so I thought at first that was the reason for the theme of the gift. I never actually found out otherwise so we’ll say it was true. It’s also the first grown-up thing I’ve owned. As in something that you always have and has a place in your home but it doesn’t really have a funny story from college. It’s a big step. The only problem is that our bags were already at the weight limit on or way over here.
On Saturday we made no plans. We had breakfast at the usual time, I played some video games, and we eventually settled on McDonald’s for lunch. We were going to go shopping with some of the other Boundless 8 but I couldn’t be bothered to travel AND spend money. I’m just like my dad in that aspect. I don’t like spending my money in general and now it’s amplified because I don’t actually make money anymore. When I do buy things, however, I’m a quality over quantity guy every time. End of tangent. We decided to go to as-fancy-as-we-can-reasonably-afford dinner in Oxford Street. Our plan was to simply walk from place to place until we found a restaurant that seemed to meet our needs. We got off the tube at Oxford Circus and started the walk east. And kept walking. For a while. We made several detours off of Oxford and into alleys and around various buildings but nothing had the right balance of quality, price, and available tables. We eventually made it to Covent Garden where we ate at a quaint Italian restaurant called La Ballerina. Jodi kept saying “Happy birthday” because it was funny. Ha ha.
On Sunday we went to Wood Green again. I was in a particularly good mood because my birthday was over and I didn’t have to relive the trauma of being sung at for another year. Church was different yet again than any format I’ve been in. We split into groups Bible Study style and talked about a specific passage within our group. There was a set of questions at the end that Jonny, one of the corps officers, then asked with a mic, bouncing from group to group for answers. It reminded me of BSF but in a slightly larger form. We went to the officers’ house after church for a proper English roast dinner. We have had several of these and I love them because it’s like Christmas dinner but whenever you want because Sunday. They have 2 boys, Samuel and William, who both took a liking to me because that’s what young boys do for some reason. It may or may not have been because of my Minecraft knowledge. But don’t tell anyone. Anyway, after lunch/dinner/tea/whathaveyou Catherine brought out a rolled pavlova, put a massive candle/firework in it, and everyone started singing. Again. This one wasn’t so bad because there were only a few people singing and no strange onlookers to gawk. Also, it was pavlova. With a firework in it.
On the roof of One New Change, which I just remembered the name of. That’s St. Paul’s.
Cold dinner in Covent Garden. The food wasn’t cold… the night air was.
Birthday/Guy Fawkes pavlova.