And I've been trying to make people think I'm the sane one in my 'hood....

Well, people came, we partied, we shindigged, we celebrated, we soireed, we socialized.  Saturday, if you haven’t gotten the point from me mentioning it 8,000 times on here, was June’s Satellite Birthday Party here in Atlanta.  And yes I do realize I call it something different every single time I mention it.  I stopped at the grocery store Friday night on my way home from work and purchased all of the food.  Then I took it out and loaded it in my car in the middle of a torrential downpour.  My pants were too long and by the time I finished, they were soaked almost up to my knees from dragging the ground.

Thankfully, after an entire week of non-stop rain, Saturday dawned and it was a beautiful day in Atlanta full of sunshine to party in honor of June’s birthday.  Poor Laurie had worked all night, then jumped in her car and stampeded to Atlanta from Greensboro still in her scrubs.  (Somehow she stayed awake until she begged me to stop talking her ears off after 11:00 that night.  I’m not sure how she did it while remaining in a very pleasant mood the entire time.  Just ask her what a talker I am.  I'm downright annoying.)  My neighbors came over and everyone was hitting it off smashingly.

And then it happened. 

My neighbor, Amsterdam Lady, saw the cake. 

“Oh, this is a birthday party?!” she asked all excited.  “Which one of you is June?” 

And so I then tried to explain this whole incredibly bizarre situation of how I invited them to a birthday party I was throwing for someone I’ve never met, who was not going to be there, and then I had to explain that her name is not even June.  This was the look on their faces trying to figure it all out: 

My neighbors are awesome!  Once they finally understood (sort of) just how insane I really am, they embraced the idea.  “Oh, we need to start doing this!  It’s a great excuse to throw a party!!  We can have birthday parties for people we just make up in our heads too.  And we’ll make a wish list of things we want and say it’s for the fake birthday person and people can bring us gifts.  BUT WE GET THE GIFTS!  This is perfect!  Why have we not thought of this before?!” 

I told them they would have to pose for photos like this one and I’m not sure it sounded so great to them after all: 

We had so much food that we never even cut into June’s cake.  (Much to the dismay of that beautiful girl with the manly and mature mustache in the photo above.  We kept telling her we would put candles in it (and then I prayed I could find some candles in my house somewhere) and cut it, but we just never got around to it.)  I told Laurie she should take it back to Greensboro and hand it over to dear old June, but I understand June does not need another birthday cake.  Oh, and I didn't mean dear "old" June.  I meant dear young whipper snapper June.  Obviously.  So my co-workers were really excited when I walked into the office carrying an entire birthday cake this morning.  None of them have really looked at it so I’m pretty sure in a few minutes when I send an email inviting them to my office for a piece, I’m going to have lots of fun explaining why I brought in an entire, uncut birthday cake for someone named June, who is not even really named June, and oh, by the way, I've never met her in my life.  But I threw a party for her and bought her a cake.  I’ll report back on how that goes. 

[UPDATE:  that went, um, well.  I have now totally confused approximately 10 more people in my life.]

For the next several weeks I will be eating one of June's favorite foods.  And if you ever have a strong desire to feel like a complete weirdo, you should serve a bowl full of these to your completely clueless neighbors when you invite them over for a party:

Laurie stayed at my house all weekend even though it was the first time we’d met in person.  Because apparently we are both brave women who don’t mind sharing a house with complete strangers.  But within a half hour of her arrival I felt like I had known her for at least 80 years.  Which is weird since I’m only in my 40’s.  About 10 minutes after she went to bed Saturday night, I was on the sofa in my living room and heard someone start setting of lots of fireworks in my ‘hood.  I’m pretty sure they heard it was June’s birthday weekend and wanted to join in the celebration.  I was just hoping Laurie didn’t think we were both about to be shot dead. 

Tomorrow I will recap how Laurie and I took Atlanta by storm on Sunday.  And how I almost starved her to death before we ate breakfast.  And about our encounter with the bluebird of happiness and some really interesting girls.  We also discovered Laurie's very own heaven.

Happiest of birthdays to our beloved June Gardens!  I'm grateful she shares her humor with us and has created a community of people I'm happy to know.