Confession: I did not take any of today's three pictures.  I'll explain why momentarily.  For now, let me just say that tomorrow you can expect some fabulous pictures of my newly painted room.  Once I figure out where I'm going to put everything.  I told some friends yesterday that I was going to see how many consecutive days I could go without skipping a workout.  Okay, I didn't hit the gym today, but I did spend somewhere around 9 or 10 hours (no lie) climbing up my painter's ladder, bending down to reach the bottom molding, stretching to reach, and moving my giant bed.  Let me emphasize giant.  Brother came by this afternoon and helped me move my bed out of the way so I could paint.  Okay, he moved it by himself but humored me by letting me push against it so I felt like I was doing something.  Tonight, though, I did it all. by. my. self.  Cue Celine Dion music - all by myself.  Unless you've seen it, you can't really appreciate what a feat that is.  A professional mover dropped my headboard last year trying to carry it.  I moved the entire thing, rotated it around in my room, boxspring and mattress stacked on top.  I think that qualifies as a workout.  Whew.  Now that I've gotten that off my chest, let's get to the real business of the day.  

A few weeks ago I wrote about my baby cousin graduating.  He had the distinct privilege of graduating on NBA Draft Day!  Apparently my young cousins are closely tied to this summer's events of the National Basketball Association.  Today, on "Decision Day," my next-youngest cousin turned 21.  I don't even want to talk about "the decision," except to say that the only thing that could disappoint me more than the complete falling-through of my dream scenario would be if the Mavs actually sign Shaq.  If that happens to occur (I hope not, but I wouldn't put it past my former-BFF Mark Cuban to do such a thing), you will probably find me holed up somewhere with a gallon of Ben & Jerry's (I don't think they even sell gallons of ice cream), crying and watching the Little Mermaid to console myself.  If such a thing happens, I will not, despite attempts to convince you otherwise, be okay.  Come check on me.  Seriously.  

Anyway, when I texted my cousin earlier to tell him happy birthday, he told me that his one and only wish for his long-awaited twenty-first birthday was to have his birthday recognized on this here blog.  Alright, that's a lie.  But he did ask to make the blog.  Since he's currently 2,000 miles NE of me, I had to allow Madre a moment as guest photographer. 

The fam took Corey to Chatham Bars Inn for his first legal drink.  It's super swanky and I'm pretty sure the Kennedy family dines there when they want to celebrate something really special.  

His out-of-state license was carefully inspected for authenticity. 

Jackpot!  It passed the test!  Now where is that drink?

Ahhhh.  At last.  Keeping it simple with a tasty brew for his first beverage.  Have no fear - the fam also took him out to an Irish Pub for good music and Irish coffee later in the night.

I seriously can't fathom the fact that he's now of legal drinking age.  He's come so far from the days of his obsession with Arnold (yes, the Governator) and plans to drive only Corvettes as soon as he turned 16.  Okay, so some dreams don't come true.  Corey has always entertained the lot of us - give him 30 seconds and he can have anyone laughing to the point of tears.  Oh, and did I mention that he will one day be rich enough to buy and sell P. Diddy?  Watch out world- he will probably be your boss someday.  

Happy Birthday Corey!!