Happy Birthday from 60 Minutes

I had a really great weekend, you guys.  I'd been kicking around a culinary blog post at the back of my mind since Saturday afternoon, when The Awesome Husband put the finishing touches on the carrot cake he baked for my birthday and slathered with cream-cheese-sour-cream frosting (yes, it was as delicious as it sounds), but a) I didn't really take any pictures of the deliciousness, and b) by the time Sunday night rolled around, I was overwhelmed with how fortunate I am in lots of ways, not just with the tasty vittles.

To back up and be entirely trivial for a second, though, the carrot cake was only the tip of the culinary iceberg, my friends.  There were fancy sandwiches (pesto/tomato/mozzarella; roast beef/caramelized onion/cheddar) and vichyssoise (potato leek soup).  There was good coffee and bagels with cream cheese.  There was even a second birthday cake, people!  Chocolate with chocolate ganache frosting and white chocolate mousse filling, because my mother is a cake-baking overachiever.

Lots of people (like, a crazy amount) wished me well, and several were way too generous with the gift-giving (after they'd been instructed that gifts weren't necessary, natch).  It was a little overwhelming, and a good exercise in "graciously accepting the generosity of others."  (Am I the only one who feels uncomfortable without the opportunity to give something to the gift-giver as well in situations like that?)

So yeah, by Sunday evening I was filled with joy and gratitude.  And then we watched 60 Minutes, because I'm a big nerd and of course I think it's a great way to cap off one's birthday.  (In fact, I was a little bummed that the earlier celebrations of the day conflicted with Meet the Press.  Nerdy nerd nerd!)

Now, did anyone else watch 60 Minutes last night?  They ran a story on this gospel choir for teenagers in New York, and these kids, my gawd!  They're so talented and they have so much to deal with.  Like, friends being shot and parents they've never met and parents they live with who don't show up to watch them sing kind of stuff to deal with.  I almost started crying right there in my living room, thinking about how lucky I am to not have any IDEA what that's like.  I wouldn't re-live my teenage years if you paid me (standard shy wallflower stuff) but there was never one day, ever, when I felt unsafe or questioned whether my parents were proud of me.  I can't even fathom how my life would be different now if that hadn't been the case.  Would I have had the resources I needed to succeed academically, and professionally?  Would I have had the self esteem to be patient and wait longer than I'd envisioned to meet and marry the absolute best-fit-for-me, bakes-me-cakes-from-scratch, hugs-me-when-I'm-overwhelmed person in the whole wide world?  Thank goodness I'll never have to know.

I am so lucky, I can't even stand it.