Birthday Schmirthday

If you happened to see Queen Latifah yesterday, I hope you wished her a happy birthday. I wonder if she finds March 18 to be less eventful every year the same way I do. I suppose when you're rich and famous, maybe birthdays continue to be a big deal. When you're middle class and anonymous, you can't even get a free drink anymore.

No matter. I had a pretty good birthday anyway. From my Grandma, I got the usual five dollar bill stapled inside a letter. From my dear friend Lisa (who apparently chose to abandon the wish list idea after all), I got my very own copy of the book I'm already reading. (Well done on her part for remembering I wanted to read it. I can't blame her for not keeping tabs on my position in queue within the library's hold list.) I also had a nice, fancy dinner at a very grown-up establishment, like the proper 32-year-old adult I'm supposed to be. Since we're not really proper adults, however, we still put away two bottles of overpriced wine and found ourselves openly mocking the wardrobe choices of Nachito Herrera's teenaged daughter's young boyfriend. Apparently when you're dating Nachito's daughter, you get to take your high school show choir skills downtown and showcase them on stage. You also apparently get to wear the red and black sequined t-shirt and glove from your show choir costume when you find yourself on that stage. Nachito's set last night was actually a tribute to Earth, Wind, & Fire, but as our waiter so aptly observed, "Someone needs to tell that guy that Michael Jackson was never part of Earth, Wind, & Fire."

Since I'm speaking of birthdays, I should also note that Stefanie Says turns one today. I don't really remember starting this thing on the day after my birthday, but that's what the first post date says, so who am I to argue with my own record keeping? Thanks for reading, and I hope you stick around.