Everyone should have 5 birthdays when they turn 25.

  I was exceptionally fortunate this year. Besides feeling like the luckiest 25-year-old alive, I got to feel that way five times in five very different ways. It all started on Saturday, January 22--the day before my actual birthday.

  You see, I had an epiphany sometime after the New Year's celebration and came to the realization that I had not, in fact, had a birthday party since...middle school? I'm not talking about going to out dinner and then to the club afterward because that I did plenty over the years prior to this one. No, I'm speaking about a proper party, with favors and invitations and a theme. Believe you me, if I could have mustered the energy to make a pinata and other classic birthday party games, I would have. But as luck would have it (for everyone who showed up that night), they simply walked away from Brasserie du Vin with a party favor and stomachs full of delicious French cuisine, cake and whatever alcoholic beverage they chose to drink. My theme was Paris! and I requested that everyone dressed their French-iest (I'll show you my fabulous invite later). Brent got a little more than panicked at the thought of having to put together a French-esque outfit ("What exactly am I supposed to wear?" was the common question for about two weeks). His stress was then exacerbated by his own pressure to buy me "the perfect gift" (the other common question was "Seriously, what do you want for your birthday, babe? I don't know what to get you"). On the day of my party, I went to get my hair hennaed in the morning and then asked to go back at 3pm (henna doesn't work like regular dye, it's very good for your hair and works better the longer you keep it in). Brent was asked (upon my request) to pick me up, drop me off at the salon from where we were to head over to Ala Moana for my make-up appointment (all presents to myself). When I walked out of the salon, I had my hair finger-waved, pin-curled and tucked away under a scarf (I was told to take out the pins before the party so that the curls would be at their freshest and best) and so I got to my final appointment with unfinished hair. Once my makeup artist was finished fussing with my face, I called Brent who had been walking around the mall that whole time. When I got to the car, he gave me a kiss, handed me an envelope and said, "Hello, gorgeous" (I know, you can blush too if you want). After he saw that I had read the card (which was very heart-melting), he asked me to look in to the middle compartment of his car in which I found a Tiffany Blue box with a white ribbon. Inside was a beautiful single diamond on a delicate 16" chain--he got me a Tiffany necklace!! And not just any necklace, it was the necklace that I had stopped at the window display and stared at for an inappropriately prolonged amount of time when I was at the mall one day with Brent. I don't know about you, but this is the first piece of jewelry that any boyfriend has ever gotten me so it meant a lot. I was, as you can image, smiling so hard that I thought that my cheeks would go numb. I felt like those kids that go crazy with excitement at the words, "We're going to Disneyland," except, I was probably more excited than they were. At dinner, I went around showing off my necklace to everyone in the room with the same doofus-y grin on my face as when I first saw it.

  After wining and dining for a few hours and getting a gorgeous birthday cake from La Palme D'or (my darling also bought my a delicious to-die-dramatically-for cake :D :D :D), we decided to walk around Downtown and wound up at Bar 35.  The crowd was sparse which allowed for us to merrily order and drink shot after shot, almost uninterrupted and soon we were taking pictures and being silly until quite suddenly like the Mad Hatter, I said, "Change bars!" and off to Manifest we went. I eventually got a little too drunk; no, I did not get that sloppy but I definitely draw a blank when I try to remember all the details of that night. The most important thing that I do remember, however, was that I had an absolute blast.

  The next day, I woke up at 730a to the jarring crash of my glass candle stick that had been, until moments before, sitting on my dresser. My cat decided to give me an extra special happy birthday and I wasn't ready for it. Nor was I ready for the pounding headache that ensued shortly after I sat up and yelled at the guilty feline. I groaned, and tried to lay down before realizing 3 things: 1) my contacts were still on, 2) so were my falsies (lashes) and 3) so was everything else. After unceremoniously throwing off my dress, lashes and contact lenses, I grabbed the nearest sweatpants and tee and curled up in a hungover ball of post-party misery. Unfortunately, I slept very little before my family came into my room to wish me happy birthday. I pouted at my mother from make-up smeared eyes and whiskey breath (we did Crown Royal shots), and asked her to please let me sleep or get me water. She laughed, dragged me downstairs, made me a bowl of ramen (which tasted like rainbows and blissful rays of sunshine) and let me drag myself around the house in misery for a while. My hangover finally lifted around 2p and Brent finally came over around 4p. We decided on doing dinner at the Cattle Company because neither of us had ever gone there before and because it was relatively close by. The wait was an hour long. Hungry, we decided to get appetizers on our own. We settled on poke, edamame and beer while we hung out in the car. It was honestly one of our best dates because we got to be silly and past the time swapping stories and drinking beer. I got to hang out with my best friend, who also happens to be my boyfriend (awwwwwww......I know, right?). By the time our table was ready, I was pretty full but we ordered a three-course meal, with included a shared appetizer and dessert. You better believe we Chubbins it out and made it to dessert (a HUGE chocolate chip cookie ala mode....Oh.Em.Gee. I can never go back to regular cookies after that).

  My high-spirits carried on to Monday morning, during which a few co-workers wished me happy birthday and showered me with presents. At lunch, everyone surprised me with a potluck (and an impressive spread). After work, my family took me out to eat at CPK to celebrate my birthday for the fourth time. My mom even got the waiter to sing his own R&B rendition of "happy birthday" to me. It was pretty cool.

  My fifth birthday party was even more unexpected than the surprise lunch at work--Brent's family took me out to dinner. We went to Joyful Garden, a Chinese restaurant in Kaneohe...I give them high recommendations. Our waiter was very entertaining and cordial (along with the rest of the staff) and the food was pretty good. When we got back to their house, Brent's family brought out a cake and sang for me (apparently, it was a legendary moment because they don't sing or buy a cake, ever). I was very flattered and my doofus smile was back as I ended my perfect week with my red velvet ice cream cake...here's the proof :)

My gorgeous La Palme D'Or strawberry shortcake.

Don't ever let your mom near the cake if the knife doesn't look like it's going to work.

Jen and EB.

Jermaine and Ken's fro.

Jenn, Jace and Lacie.

Shanelle and Larry.

Vicki and Candi.

Our drinks...first round.

Haines the Fabulous.

Mariko the Dreamer.

Anri and Mariko.

Sey and Brent looking very Euro.

Mr. Jermaine.

Oui!

The girls (yes, including Haines--duh!)

Shadow dancing.

Me the next day.

Appetizers at the Cattle Company.

My ribeye steak.

Oops, sorry. This is very inappropriate.

mini orchids from Haines.

The Chocolate souffle at CPK never had a chance.

Nor did the butter cake.

Yep, favorite daughter status :D

Seriously!

Best Birthday. Ever.