As you may recall, yesterday was my birthday. It was also Queen Latifah's birthday and Dane Cook's birthday and Bonnie Blair's birthday as well. I don't know any of them, however, so let's just focus on me. Unless you'd rather focus on gay prom* star Brandon Lee, with whom Wikipedia tells me I also share my day. If you'd rather focus on him, however, then frankly this probably isn't the blog for you, so move along then; on your way.
My birthday wasn't all that different from any other Sunday... I slept in, fed my Internet addiction for a while, took a walk, did some laundry... you know, the usual. Unlike the average Sunday, however, I ended the day by rounding up ten friends for dinner. If you're surprised I managed to rally that large a group on a Sunday night (particularly the Sunday immediately following St. Patrick's Day), then you're not alone. I was pretty surprised by the turnout myself. Unfortunately, although I had my camera with me, I entirely forgot to remove it from my purse, so you'll just have to take my word on this even without any photodocumentation.
Despite the indisputable fact that birthdays get less and less eventful every year, I still had a fine evening and received some lovely gifts. (Note to the "real-lifers" reading: Big thank you to everyone who attended for your company and for all the fun treats, cards, and presents you brought.) As suspected, I got a new printer/scanner contraption from my family, which means that on the rare occasion that I decide to print something at home, I can now do so in presumably true-to-life, non-distorted colors and without unpredictable streaks across each page. More important, with my new scanner, I can maybe start posting fun and revealing things like embarrassing photos from my youth--something that seems to be popular around the blogosphere. Really you can't wait, I'm sure.
From my good friend Jamie, I received a Choose Your Own Adventure book that for some reason apparently made her think of me. I didn't even know anyone was still publishing Choose Your Own Adventure books; did you? But look! Here it is. Who knew.
Jamie also took the hints I blatantly dropped and got me an adorable little Unazukin doll just like the one pictured here...
She may be less reliable than The Google, but she's certainly cuter as well. I've named her Clara, mainly because she said she didn't like my first suggestion (Brigita) nor my second one (Annika), but when I asked if she'd like to be called Clara, she nodded twice enthusiastically. OK then, little one. Clara it is.
Frankly I think I'm going to like having Clara around. She's already helping me make some all-important life decisions. She decided, for example, that I should have a baked potato for dinner tonight, but more notably, she provided her obviously sage insight on a little dilemma I've had stewing in my brain...**
Me: Does [redacted] still like me?
Clara: [nods twice]
Me: Really? Even though I acted like an idiot yesterday?
Clara: [nods once]
Me: Does [redacted #2] still like me?
Clara: [nods twice]
Me: You're saying they both like me?
Me: Should I date [redacted]?
Me: Should I date [redacted #2]?
Me: You're saying I should date both of them?
Clara: [nods twice]
Me: Well, OK then...
I realize that is a suspicious amount of nodding, so you are right to suspect that perhaps all Clara can do is agree. To test her further, however, I asked if I should have gone out with "Med" one more time, and I got a resolute double head shake on that. So nope; she's working. And she's got some interesting advice.
Anyway, all in all it was a fine birthday. While I'm not crazy about the knowledge that I'm quickly approaching middle age, I actually feel better and happier than I did last year at this time, or the year before that as well, so I really can't complain too much.
While doing my laundry yesterday, I popped in my well-worn VHS of Bridget Jones's Diary. I remembered that when I first saw that movie (and when I first read the book), I was years younger than Bridget, and I took some small comfort in the thought that I had plenty of time before I would be deemed a "tragic spinster" like her. Yesterday, as I waited for the scene where a depressed and down-trodden Bridget recites her birthday entry ("Weight: 135 pounds***. Birthday: 33"), I fully expected to feel depressed along with her for a bit. But you know what? I didn't. Life's more or less pretty good. In the past year, I have made some excellent new friends (and held on to plenty of fabulous old ones as well). I finally let go of and made peace with some things I should have let go of and made peace with a long, long time ago. I've learned a lot. I've laughed a lot. And, if I am to believe Clara, I have two boys who like me. Maybe I'm just catching the unexpected optimism spreading around the Internet, but really, at the moment, I am feeling finally more than just OK.
I said in my New Year's entry that I wished the new year would start in the spring, when it's easier to think of a better life and new beginnings because we're not trapped in the gray bleakness of January. It didn't occur to me at the time, I guess, that my birthday starts a new year, too. So happy new year to me. Here's hoping 33 has all sorts of good things in store.
Know who else has a birthday this week (today, actually, if my post-dating and record-keeping can be deemed reliable)? My blog. Yep, Stefanie Says turned two today. Like any two-year-old, she throws the occasional tantrum (which, frankly, could have more to do with being hosted on Blogger than with being two years old) and like any two-year-old, she's occasionally silent and occasionally rambles on and on nonsensically for her own amusement. I could take this analogy further, but Red already did that a few months back, and did so in more clever words than mine. So I'll just stop here and say thanks for reading and thanks for all your support and fun comments the past year. As always, you guys are the best.
* Code word to deter unscrupulous Googlers. Thanks, Metalia.
** Intentionally cryptic conversation. Sorry, but at the moment you'll get no more details from me than this.
*** This may be the wrong number, as despite how many times I've seen this movie, I'll admit I don't have the full text committed to memory. But I'm far too lazy to fast forward through the tape again to ensure full accuracy here.