I recently had a birthday. Due to a quirk of the calendar, my birthday tends to fall on days early in the week. Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays particularly (next Friday or Saturday birthdays: 2004, 2005 and 2010). So generally I don't do a lot on my own to celebrate it. But occasionally I'll get some things for my birthday that are particularly unusual. Like the time I got to buy dinner for two even though someone else had invited me.

(This is the point where I start complaining about some slight that happened years ago, but over which I still harbor some small resentment. This is one of a number of small but indelible stains on my soul that will ultimately keep me from attaining spiritual purity, deny me nirvana, and force me to be reborn again and again and again! Will my soul never know peace?! But anyway, here's the story in question...)

A couple of years ago, my then-girlfriend decided it would be good to take me out to the Olive Garden, but refused to drive after sunset (it's a long story). Which meant I had to drive. Which meant she could have a glass of wine. Or two.

With her cold medicine.

After which she passed out at the table. Stone cold asleep. Out like the proverbial light. Fortunately, the waiter who had found a candle to put in my birthday cheesecake saw the situation and carefully and quietly brought me the check so as not to wake the girl. Needless to say, she wasn't in any condition for much birthday fun afterwards. Dammit.

(That's about all for the harping on the past. It's bygones now. No big deal.)

This year I caught a head cold and got the dirtiest look I've seen in the last seven months. The cold I probably caught from being exposed to a parade of over-worked, under-immunized and over-tired English students. The dirty look I got from a Russian prostitute who was apparently off duty and enjoying a little shopping with her friends. Maybe my necktie was too offensively knotted for her...

I also got a bunch of really cool books and toys and music from the people I know who aren't Russian prostitutes and exhausted language students. Someday I'll develop photos and post them. Until then, why don't you make do with this instead?

Anyway, happy birthday to me.