So, say you’re an archeologist from a thousand years in the future, and you came across this collection of things, laid out as an obvious tribute to a single person:

Recipe box
Long brown skirt
Quiche, croissant and coffee (breakfast delivery)
White noise machine
Shower clock
Peanut butter cookies
Maker’s Mark
Homemade white pizza gift card
Fried Green Tomatoes (the movie)
A full-day kayak rental
Generic stroganoff pasta mix

OK, I don’t know how you’re going to “stumble over” a kayak rental, but forgetting that, how would you interpret this collection? What do my birthday presents say about me at 32? I like food (and bourbon)? My fashion sense is more “hippy” than “businessy”? My rickety childhood ceiling fan has rendered me forever unable to sleep without a constant 60-decibel serenade?  And…my friends like to shop at the dollar store?

Presents included, it was a pretty successful birthday weekend—so much so that by the time my actual birthday rolled around on Monday, I’d sort of forgotten it hadn’t already come and gone.

We had a really lovely stroll around the downtown Sarasota farmers market Saturday morning—empanadas for breakfast, lunch with the ‘rents at Pho Cali then coffee and an éclair at Pastry Art. We (well, CCB, mostly) fixed pizzas—homemade dough, sauce, everything—and had a fantastic evening watching UFC with the Js (Big and Little), the Harribles, the Deelios and Krazy K and Suzie Q. We had Sunday brunch with the ‘rents (Pa and I share a birthday, hence the blintzes), opened presents and then played hockey.

In short, I was many of the things I think I should be: I was out and about, and I stayed home and folded laundry. I was independent and sociable. I ate at great local restaurants and enjoyed home-cooked meals. I was active, and I napped.

No telling if my 31st-century discoverer will be able to figure all of that out, but I think he’ll like the cookies.