hippo birdee two ewe

Best. Birthday. Card. Ever.

It's time to turn my attention to the next item on my agenda: my birthday!!!

16 August, Saturday this year. Mark your calendars. Set your alarm on your Blackberry. I know you won't want to let this go by without celebration and hoopLA.

The kids want to get me a bike. You know, so I can take them on bike rides. I'm not opposed to the bike, per se. I'd like to take them on bike rides. But sheeit, a birthday only comes around once a year, and I'd kinda like a present I want. Selfish? Perhaps. Fuck me, I think they're cool, though.

Well, my trip to WorldCon really was my birthday present. Now you understand, had it happened in, say, April, it would've just been something I did. But it happened in August, days before the Illustrious Event of my turning 41, and so it became a Birthday Gift. Rather reminds me of when my mother-in-law got me an animal-shaped waffle iron for my birthday, cuz, you know, the kids would like it.

Uh huh.

ahem CYA to follow:

Actually, Mom, I loved the waffle iron. Still love it. Still use it. All the time. The kids love it, too. Mission accomplished.

Anyhoo, I'm having a big ole birthday party for myself on Saturday (I'm the mom, who else is going to throw a party for me?) with cupcakes, balloons, and a whole shitload of beer. I considered just serving Coors Light in honor of my own tastes, but I want my friends to keep liking me. So there'll be rum punch, wine, margaritas, mixers, other kinds of beer, and hell, maybe even champagne.

In the meantime, though, I'm off to the zoo.