Today was my birthday. And it was good. It was quiet, and I stayed in my pajamas most of the day. Professional painters came and painted the family room, and it's nice to know I'll not have to do it now. I wasn't stoked about getting up before 8 am, but I lounged on the couch while they painted, so who cares?
The oddest part of the day was when we went out to dinner and the hostess asked me if I was over 12, and if she was kidding, she is spectacularly good at deadpan, because not once during the exchange did she crack a smile or hint that she was doing anything but asking a serious question. And when I said, "Actually, I'm 27 today." she gave me a perplexed look like she thought perhaps I ought to crack the "Only joking." smile.
I've always looked younger than I am, but 12? Really? Really? I mean, even the harshest critics I've encountered have put me as at least 20, more likely 22 or 23. I hope, for the hostess's sake, she is just that good at keeping a straight face.
Tomorrow I'll go pick my sister and the baby up from her mother-in-law's house. She'll be joined by everyone else this weekend. Mostly I'm looking forward to some bonding time between my iPod and I. (If I look at it that way, I won't think about the two hour drive that is still a bit of a terrifying prospect after...YOU KNOW.)
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