Six weeks into our marriage..

I tested Mr. Spice.

Yep, yep, at the ripe young age of 29, I pouted like a five year old and became Little Miss Grumpy Pants. Or has Mr. Spice liked to call me: Grumpy McGrumpy-pants. Don't blame me, blame my damn life clock ticking away counting down the seconds until my 30th birthday.

Needless to say, I wasn't happy about leaving my 20's. The worst part was that we had just thrown the best party of my (scratch that) our lives and we had just gone on one flippin' amazing honeymoon, so I felt like asking friends to come celebrate my birthday was like asking for a Louis Vuitton purse right after they had given me a Marc Jacobs.

Yet I really didn't want to sit at home and twiddle my thumbs either. Enter, Mr. Spice. The best or worse husband ever. Worst because he let me pout all week.

Best because the night before my birthday he took me to dinner and told me to pack a bag for an overnight trip. And since Huck, the wonder dog, had just been in the hospital a few weeks before, he was coming too.

I was beyond shocked, surprised, so freakin excited. Can you tell?*

Yet, he didn't actually tell where we were going. North could have meant wine country, East could have meant Tahoe, and South- Carmel.

I was secretly hoping for South.

You see, Carmel by the Sea holds a really special place in our hearts. It's where we went on our first romantic get-away (que cheesy music), and every time we've been back since- it can only be described as magical.

We left early-ish the next morning, and as we were headed East across the Bay Bridge, I was DYING to know where we were going. Finally, Mr. Spice had to let the cat out of the bag, we weren't going East, but South. To Carmel.

EKKK. I was beyond excited.

And of course, Mr. Spice went all out and booked us a room at the super duper dog friendly, Cypress Inn.

source.

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We arrived just as the late morning fog lifted, and went straight to the beach:

Huck was ready to stretch his legs:

Within minutes he too realized we were in paradise and was leaping down the beach:

Did I mention it was the perfect July day:

After our beach adventure, we strolled back up to the Hotel for an afternoon nap:

And while we've had some of the most romantic dinners of our lives at Casanova and La Bicyclette, we decided to venture out from the norm and try something new. We also took a huge risk and didn't make reservations.

Ekkk. Last time we did that we ended up eating at the local pub. Well, luck was on our side, and we wondered down the street to a brand new restaurant, Dametra.

It's an eclectic mix of Mediterranean cuisine that did not disappoint.

As we sat down, the owner started singing to a couple that had just gotten engaged.

Love was in the air.
The meal itself was fantastic, and it involved a lot of wine.

Then all of a sudden Mr. Spice got a crazy wide-eyed look on his face.

And I started to get concerned. This is my- What the hell are you up too?- face.

He had told the waiter that it was my birthday:

Which lead them to announce my birthday to the whole restaurant, and to sing an equally embarrassing song to me. I died.

When I finally peeked out:

I noticed that there was a big piece of cake in front on me. I loved and hated every second.

I loved that I had a man that cared so much about my day that he did everything possible to make the day perfect. I hated the awkward attention.

The next day included breakfast in the Hotel's courtyard, A LOT of shopping down Ocean Avenue, and a two hour shopping adventure at the place that should not be named.

Six months later- I now relish in being 30. After taking stock of my life, I realized that I was/am the luckiest girl in the world. I had just had the most perfect day of my life: A day at the beach with my two favorite people (yes, Mr. Spice and Huck vie for the #1 spot in my heart), the most perfect dinner, and in quite possibly my favorite place in the world. I feel like I passed a test that everyone in their 20s still has to take!

So take that 30. Bring on 31.

Do you pout before your birthday? Or plan your own party?