XO-LP // Laura Palmer

A Love Letter History.

"I am such a bad ass"

Dear 29,
You've outdone yourself, 29. We have barely had the chance to get acquainted (I mean it has just now been a week) and already you've thrilled me. At the risk of sounding overly sappy, I am surrounded by the most incredible people. They are brilliant and creative and thoughtful and truly kind. If these first 7 days of 29 are any indication of how the other 358 will go-- I'm in for one of the best years yet.
You must try this cake. Cache Birthday Cake @ Americana. So. Good.
The list has been published, posted on Facebook (which obviously makes it legit), printed on a tshirt (thanks Sara) and clearly studied by those around me. My sweet friend Jami proved that on Friday night when she arranged for me to RIDE A MOTORCYCLE. (Note the use of all-caps. That nearly never happens on this blog so it must have been pretty bigtime.)
While on the back of a very rumbly motorcycle I managed to ask a lot of questions (gears are in fact shifted using your foot), scream like a child and shout "I am such a bad ass" with my voice quivering. (Thank you to Jami's kind and good looking friends for putting up with all that and making #21 happen) I found myself glancing over at other motorcyclists throughout the rest of my weekend, from the safe confines of my trusty Honda, and nodding as though I'm one of them now. Apparently a 15 block ride on a bike has made me think I am part of the secret league of bad asses.
I would have settled with just one night of awesome, but instead, my seven day birthday weekend was filled with special events: grilled pizzas, garlic scapes, a pretty serious Bobby Brown dance party at a bbq fest, lots of confetti, a brutal UFC fight (that I just watched, despite what Pete taught me), at least 4 naps, several compliments on a dress Janer nearly gave to goodwill... and that was just on Saturday.
Oh and a butterfly landed on my head.

After a day of pool sitting on Sunday (ok two hours of pool sitting, where I managed to land my first awkward sunburn of the season), I spent an evening on a farm eating ribs, learning about vegetable farming and sneaking many bites of the most delicious macaroni casserole. There were hayrack rides and the coolest man I know with a ponytail. Larry sang Johnny Cash and opened up his home to Des Moines' fancy food folk and we regular people. I can't wait to go back.
(photo credit to Adrienne. this is one of the many awesome shots she took that evening- hire her)
(Thanks for letting me give you the full and overly detailed play-by-play of my first week of a new year. I'm sure this is exciting to read.)
But while the weekend had many, the biggest highlight was celebrating my 2-9 on the Stoop with my sister Kate and a whole bunch of fun DSM friends. There was a root beer float bar, a vodka lemonade stand and so many rainbows. (and the motorcycle ride, Mr. Lidgett, lots of new bourbon varietals, sparklers, Mrs. Chase and a super tasty cake, oh and a Robert Palmer record)

29, you really have outdone yourself. And all you brilliant and creative and thoughtful and truly kind people- you have too. Thanks for an spectacular kick off of year 29.