Pretty much the best birthday ever, even without balloons and ponies. I took the day off work, lounged around, read
Persuasion, drank iced coffee and ate fancy-shmancy pastries, and then we got a babysitter for the evening and Matt and I went to see Emmylou Harris at the zoo. There were fabulous presents as well (photos sometime, maybe). Also, sleeping late.
I'm pretty easy to please in my old age, aren't I?
You know, the really nice thing about being blonde is that you don't ever go grey, you just get blonde-er. I remember when I was working in theatre, how difficult it was to do age makeup on blondes and redheads; the face makeup never read properly because their hair just didn't take the grey paint. You wound up with people who looked like they were wearing old-age masks, whereas the grey on the brunettes brought everything together and actually read as "old" to the audience.
Bonus math geek fun: For the next five months, for the only time in my life, I will be half my father's age.
Happy birthday to Casey, and to Janet, wherever she is.
Labels: Birthday
