In case I hadn’t spoken to you recently or facebooked you or emailed you, my birthday is in 4 DAYS!!!
I’m a big fan of birthdays, specifically mine, but after I had about 17 of them and they stopped involving “Birthday Month,” ponies**, and tiaras, it really just went downhill. Actually, it went downhill after you started having to plan your own parties. Ugh. I don’t know if you’ve picked up on this subtlety, but I’m not crazy about dealing with people.
So.
I’m swimming the one mile at Lake Berryessa on Saturday. Steve and I are talking about going to the water park, but since we took my last birthday trip in November (and Steve got egged), I’m not optimistic it’ll happen.
People did suggest that I list things I would like for my birthday, so:
- a new fancy sleeveless wetsuit
- a house on the hill, preferably one with a turret
- those tanktops from Banana Republic that they don’t make any more
- food I don’t cook
I’m actually not really on a kick. Usually, I want lots of clothes or shoes or everything that I see or eating out (I love eating out), but lately, eh, I’d rather not have a job than stuff.
**No, Court, I never really got a pony.