One of my besties turned the big two-five this weekend.  We decided to have a semi-grown up brunch at a new place, as we’re all a quarter grown up.  Don’t worry, we managed to turn the clock back a few years later that evening with a BYOB dinner, funfetti cake, and champagne-pregame-dancing to N’Sync. No complaints here.

We headed downtown to Peels to get our brunch on. They’re known to have some fine-tasting biscuits, so biscuits we tasted. With coffee.

I had a goat cheese, spinach and egg white omelet. And a million numerous spoonfuls of Kathleen’s grits.

No birthday would be complete without a S’Mores cupcake!

Happy Birthday to my beauteous, soon to be a Mrs.(!), friend Carrie.

If you’re in NYC, I would recommend Peels for brunch, but be sure to make a reservation! There were people overflowing into the streets waiting for tables.  I said to Carrie “I feel like a celebrity, we just walked right in, in front of all those people!”  “That’s why we make reservations,” she responds. Riiiight. Silly me thinking I could be considered cool for once.

No, Kathleen’s legs have not been amputated.  She was just being a little kid.  We’re all still kids, quarter-way there and beyond.  I won’t grow up.

Happy Birthday, Carrie! I love you to the moon and back.