24 years ago today I emerged from a hole cut in my mom’s stomach and, so the story goes, immediately began picking up medical implements, the doctor’s pens, and anything else within reach with both hands and feet.
So far, for my birthday I have received:
Bookmarks, as requested, from my dad
$30 from my grandmother
The Ohio double-album from Over the Rhine, from avivahg
The Art of War by Sun Tzu, from avivahg
Henry and June by Anais Nin, from avivahg
On Behaviorism by B. F. Skinner, from avivahg
Gattaca, from avivahg
The Meaning of Life, a two-disc edition with gobs of extras, from avivahg
And one bad-ass cold, from a benefactor unknown (but probably also the ever-generous avivahg). Chest congestion, sinus trouble, sore throat, laryngitis, stuffy nose, watery eyes, the works. Blech.
It’s probably karmic retribution. I managed to screw up at least three people’s evenings last night through irresponsibility and obliviousness. Hmmm, I can think of a possible 4th as well. Alright, universe, I got what I deserved.
Happy birthday also to psycheague – I hope you have a terrific time at Hersheypark!