Monday, February 27, 2006
It doesn't really matter what day it is
Me, sometime in my infancy, I believe in Chicago, 1965.
I was on the phone with my mom yesterday morning and we talked for about 10 minutes about this and that and finally I said - "aren't you going to wish my a happy birthday?" She said "Your birthday is tomorrow, the 26th". I told her today was the 26th. Anyways, no matter what day, you have to be in the mood to celebrate. This weekend was not it.
Like last year, I have a major work crunch, a paper for my seminar and too much on my plate to even enjoy dinner out. I fell asleep reading about landscape and memory last night.
So, I'm celebrating my prime birthday (you figure it out), in Paris on Friday with dinner at Cafe Cassette or maybe somewhere swankier like Violin d'Ingres and a brief shopping excursion somewhere interesting.
TH consoled me with the fact that until his dying day, her father was convinced her birthday was six days later than it was, her first due date.