No, this isn't a Douglas Adams related post. Though maybe it should be! All is well here, just very busy in a million different ways. With eddies in the space-time continuum. ("Is he, is he?" said Arthur...)
But my birthday is on Sunday don't forget! Thinking of maybe doing something somewhere sometime (not Brasso Seco, cancelled that plan. Too much planning). It's not every day you get to be one year older and wiser and more awesome, hmm? Friday night looks good.
I have never understood why women don't like to get older. I say, "YOU SEE THESE WRINKLES??? I WORKED DAMN HARD FOR THESE WRINKLES BABY!!! OH AND THE GREY HAIRS TOO! EVERY SINGLE ONE IS A LESSON LEARNED, A SORROW SURVIVED AND A ...... " nother cool alliteration which I can't think of at short notice. So there. I will be... (mumblemumble, carry the one...) THIRTY-SIX!
And a damn hot thirty-six it is too. I have done a lot of stuff in that many years, and it looks like the next thirty-six are going to be just as action-packed. I look forward to them. At the end of them I intend to be twice as droopy and wrinkled, and twice as wise and awesome. But if I have the same friends, I will consider myself twice as blessed.
EDITED: Wait! stop the presses! I just heard on the radio that TODAY (March 11th) would have been Douglas Adam's birthday. I just hope that, wherever he is, he's got his towel.