1. A check from my parents.
2. Some horrible, I mean nasty, cupcakes. For some reason, stores are now using a red food coloring that tastes like insecticide. I also got a cake from Greg's mother, which thankfully was much better.
3. A deck of cards from Marlboro in a box that says
and when you open it up
I'm not sure how to take the Marlboro gift. "We're killing you, so here's to one of your few remaining birthdays. Oh and by the way, gambling is fun too." Thanks Marlboro
I was also told that I would be getting gifts from Greg and my sister. I'm still waiting though. I actually sent mine off to my sister on time for once and she sent hers late for once. How did we trade places?
Anyway, on my own, I took the money from my parents and went shopping. I got:
Well, we have a serigraph by Anatole Krasnyansky that fell out of it's frame and I found one of the cats scratching at it on the floor. It was undamaged, but I took it to a framing shop to have it remounted and get glass put in front of it.
While there I got some pastels and pastel paper to doodle on.
I got:
The Flaming lips was a total mistake. It turns out it was from a BBC show where they choose songs that they like. I was thinking it was remakes of The Flaming Lips. Boy oh boy, was I wrong.
I also went to buy some shoes. I wanted some Ecco's because I heard they were great. I found some at a Nordstrom Rack, but they were horribly ugly. Sorry Dad, I'll have to wait until they have a better style.
I also got a gift card in the mail from Aveda for free personalized perfume. It's not really personalized....well, it is if you consider choosing it to be personalized. I chose a mixture of patchouli, jasmine and sandalwood. I used to think that patchouli smelled like dirt and sweat, but now I like it. While I was there in the Desert Passage Mall at the Aladdin, I also bought some scented candles (patchouli, oddly enough) and a pretzel.
There, that was my birthday.
I dropped the ball horribly. And the thing is, I *remembered* it was your birthday, because I remember that your birthday is on the same day as the anniverary of the Mt. St. Helen's eruption. And I thought, "I've got to email Patrick and say Happy Birthday" and then, like, something happened, like I had to cook dinner or something, or the kid got colicky, I dunno.
ReplyDeleteBut the good news is, now I can send you one of those belated birthday cards with a picture of an embarrased looking little donkey digging his toe into the dirt, with the caption, "Gol-durn it! I what an 'ass' I am!"
Or something like that. ;-)
M
Don't worry about it.
ReplyDeleteFor the life of me, I hae no idea when your birthday is. January 21st:? 22nd? Now, if you had a recent natural disaster on your birthday, it sure would help.
See, you remembered it even *without* a natural disaster. (It's the 21st of January.)
ReplyDeleteBy the way, according to "The Secret Language of BIrthdays", you were born on "The Day of Established Activism." It says:
"Those born on May 18 are an interesting blend of tradition and liberalism. They could be described as movers and shakers with a revolutionary bent, but their primary impulse is less to overturn society than to improve it. Many born on this day are protestors, speaking out against injustice and unfairness wherever they find it."
See ... like I said! Trotsky!
M
That was suppose to be a picture of Trotsky, not a misspelling of his name. Damn it.
ReplyDeleteWhat about you? What is the secret language of your Birthday? What is this book based on? Astrology? I'm a little confused.
ReplyDeleteGot it.
ReplyDeleteOh, it's some dumb system called "Personology" which supposedly takes a whole bunch of factors (astrology being one of them) into account and then provides a personalized "analysis" of each day of the year. I just bought a used copy the other day. It's a big fat book, and there's a 2-page report on every day of the year.
ReplyDeleteAccording to the book, I was born on "The Day of the Frontrunner". It says that I am a natural born leader, but that I tend to get bored with things before my followers do, and I end up telling my followers to get lost because they bore me.
It also says that I work in fits and starts, and that I need to keep my pleasure-loving side from overwhelming my disciplined, hardworking side.
It's like they know me! ;-)
M
He was much cuter when he was young:
ReplyDeleteExcept what the hell was he thinking with the hair?
Hair like that was all the rage back in NEVER! We all have those embarrassing fashion moments. That's why I chose an older picture...more clasic.
ReplyDeleteI just don't know how he achieved such volume. This was pre-hair gel. Maybe eggwhites, but damn!
ReplyDeleteM
1. I meant to put "classic" and not "clasic". I even glanced at it a couple of times thinking it looked funny, but I didn't catch the mistake until now.
ReplyDelete2. Trotsky was jewish and had the classic jewish hair called an "isro" or "jewfro". No, hair gel needed.
I have frequently wished I had that kind of hair. My hair's curly and all, but it deflates far too easily.
ReplyDeleteGood Grief it sure is hard to be you!!!!!!!!!! you should write a book about it, and call it it's hard to be me. You know that I am good for gifts, you know where I live and all. Sorry the cupcakes were bad....I am a horrible, horrible spouse... :(
ReplyDeleteIt's Hard to be Me. Surely, that would be a bestseller and would shock the world at the appalling treatement that I have received.
ReplyDeleteIt's Hard to be Me. Surely, that would be a bestseller and would shock the world at the appalling treatement that I have received.
ReplyDeleteI have frequently wished I had that kind of hair. My hair's curly and all, but it deflates far too easily.
ReplyDeleteI just don't know how he achieved such volume. This was pre-hair gel. Maybe eggwhites, but damn!
ReplyDeleteM
That was suppose to be a picture of Trotsky, not a misspelling of his name. Damn it.
ReplyDelete