Ladies and Gentleman, the most wonderful 40-year-old woman I know:

Oh my goodness, Stephanie Zaza has entered her fifth decade of wowing the masses with her wit, cooking, music, smarts, and general goofiness. This woman is in charge--The New Field Marshall™, if you will. And never has anyone more competent been entrusted with the keys to the city. Our family has always relied heavily on its strong women--uh, hello Aunt Martha, up there--and it's very reassuring to see Stephanie's character deepening and growing more complex as the family continues its inevitable and natural changes. Stephanie, I dedicate this diary entry to you and the beautiful energy you put into this crazy life of ours.

Well, let's not beat around the bush: everyone was excited for this trip because not only was Stephanie throwing a serious bash, but I was bringing ol' CP to Atlanta with me so the folks could all get a chance to meet him and vice versa. We both wore blue checkered shirts that day. Not on purpose, I might add.

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We arrived in Atlanta on Thursday night, a bit late (LaGuardia, you know), but happy to get away for three days together. Stephanie fed us heartily and then everyone retired early. Friday, May 5, was the actual day--Stephaniemas. And merry it was.

First of all, the JZ's arrived--that's Jerry & Joyce, to you--and second of all, it was Cinco de Mayo. So we went out for Mexcican, of course.

We drank a lot of margaritas, ate a lot of chips, salsa, and deliciously-filled tortillas. We toasted Stephanie, we toasted Mejico, and Joe even toasted other diners in the restaurant. Good times.

After ice cream and a trial run-through of "Happy Birthday to You" everyone retired to prepare for The Big Party. Saturday, errands needed to be run, cakes needed to be candled, stuffed shells needed to be baked, and Mint Juleps needed to be imbibed in front of the Kentucky-Derbied TV!

The day before Christopher and I ran around to buy cheese and mint for the juleps. My sister's car drives like a little dream. Saturday Stephanie and I went to pick up the cakes while Joe took Jerry, Joyce, and Christopher flying. We hear Christopher's quite the natural when it comes to flying the friendly skies.

Stephanie really outdid herself--what a feast. Stuffed shells, meatballs and sausage, lots of wonderful dips and bread and crackers, a cheese plate, roasted peppers, and shrimp cocktail. Yum. And don't forget a fully stocked bar, a hired bartender, and lots and lots of happy guests.

Joe wore a kilt, but Chance wore a frown--I think he was overwhelmed.

Of course, we sang Happy Birthday long and loud, Stephanie cut the cake and made a wish, Joe made a wonderful toast, and everyone gobbled down the cakes--one lemon with raspberry filling, and the other chocolate with chocolate. Mmmmm.

The party lasted a good long time. The guests wandered to the backyard deck, lounged in the family room, sat upright in the living room, and put away a huge number of bottles of booze. I myself must have drunk a full bottle of champagne.

Once everyone said goodbye, we cleaned up and watched as Stephanie opened her presents.

The next day, after sleeping off our hangovers, we broke our fast with waffles and pancakes and bacon. I love my family.

To cap the weekend, we headed out to the Botanical Gardens, where we wandered and strolled and laughed and oohed and aahed. The gardens were filled with the most hideous sculptures, but we ignored them and looked at the flowers instead.

Many more pix posted here.

We had a nice lunch in a little pub housed in an old firehouse. And then goodbye--Christopher and I were dropped at the airport, and our little weekend away was over. Stephanie was a year older, but hopefully a year wiser. I hear 40 is the new 29. I hope so since my own 40th is around the corner itself. But Stephanie, dear, I will never catch up.

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