Last weekend was my birthday.
Let’s just say we ate well.
We all trucked up to The County for a celebration.
Since I’m hitting one of these ‘9’ numbers, I’ve found common responses are to either taunt or take 10 years off the total. Either is fine, I like a bit of teasing. Truth be told, I’m happy to be here and good with my age. 39 is a great place for me to be. When it comes to birthdays, Onward! is the best policy. Because the alternatives are what? Reverse? Riight. Stopping? Nah, I like this.
On March 23rd the answers to most questions were answered with:
Well, it is my birthday.
I was treated to all manner of things wonderful, including kisses, hugs, cuddles, cards, gifts and myriad candies. Yum. I love you too, family. Thanks for knowing me so well. Birthday dinner out at the swanky digs with a handsome date was the highlight. We spent it, well, spending all sorts of money on our home. Imaginary cash, of course, ’cause that’s what I’ve got the most of these days. But in the middle of my day I snuck out on my lonesome, hitting my favorite digs and scored some $3.00 Buddy Holly frames. Word. I wore them all the way home, rocking out to Def Leppard, Prince, Michael Jackson and Cyndi Lauper. A bit of a retro-remix was on the French Canadian oldies station.
I want to need these glasses.
39 seems old enough to have readers, doesn’t it? Did I tell you about the time I faked my way through an eye exam to try to get glasses in the 5th grade?
Of course, I made everyone else wear them for at least long enough to document.
Just because I could. Here’s proof.
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me! We look like Buddy Holly and we act like we’re three.