Birthday Celebrations!

         "Text me whenever you get off work!" was the message I received from my roommate an hour ago.
         My curiosity spiked at this rare request as I wondered what she was planning, but I proceeded to send her a simple answer for her simple request.
         "I'm getting off work."
         After I checked that everything was clean (or as clean as it could be), I gathered my backpack full of various and tedious homework, heaved it over my back with a small grunt, and quickly shut all the lights off and locked up for the night. My pace heading back to my dorm room was neither slow nor quick because I had my suspicions for the mysterious text message. However, I dared not assume its meaning, so I relaxed and enjoyed the night breeze. I even paused momentarily to watch the heated volleyball game next to the West Hall dorms. It appeared to be a game of "boys versus girls." The boys managed to muster intimidating war-cries as the girls gave their playful taunts. The game continued, though halfheartedly because they were enjoying the night with friends.
        I continued on my lonesome trek to the girls' dorm when I came face-to-face with one of my most hated adversaries. The automatic door next to Buddy's Cafeteria. This stupid hunk of blue tin contained an automatic keyhole that should open automatically if you turned your key "like so." This would be very convenient if your hands were full, or you were handicapped. Except for one drawback... It inconveniently never works!
       I then began another long and arduous battle with the door, all the while trying to hold in a few choice obscenities I wished to yell at that moment. (We wouldn't want to scare the young freshman or foreign exchange students now would we?!). With one final grunt I was able to claim yet another victory against my foe.
       Door: 9; Leslie: 5.
       "Another day, we will meet again," I though to myself.
       I made my way through the maze that is West Hall, twisting and turning, going up these stairs going down those till I finally reached my room with exhaustion from the weight of my burden. I unlocked my door with slight anticipation, but even being somewhat prepared I was still taken by surprise.
        An unpracticed rendition of the "Happy Birthday Song" accompanied with the beautiful melody of acoustic strings picked by experienced hands filled my room and into the hallway. Streamers of orange and white webbed across the ceiling, and three orange balls hung loosely from above. A huge smile flashed across my face seeing all the girls I had recently made friends with just a few weeks before there to join me in celebrating my birthday. A small piece of chocolate cake sat on one of our desk chairs in the middle of the room with five sparking candles. My RA allowed this minor breach of the dorm rules with the candles as she recorded all of this on her iPhone.
        After the song had ended, I hesitantly started blowing out the candles as my suspicions were met with confirmation. These were candles that relit themselves after I exhausted all of my air supply just moments before. With the room filling with laughter at my failure to successfully blow out the candles, the others began to help me with this task so that I could enjoy the cake.
        As I sat there comfortably among friends, I felt the long day ending on a good note as casual conversation and beautiful music drifted through the air.