Okay, so, like --
Can you say "perfect birthday"? Can you say "happy, happy, joy, joy"? Can you say Charo????
Yes, I had a perfect birthday. Yes, Charo called me on the phone and sang Happy Birthday to me, advised me not to get pregnant, and to live to be 100 while getting plenty of cuchi-cuchi. (Or however you'd spell that.) If you are not a terrifically loyal reader of this lofty blog, you must click on the links for postings on or around June 4th or 5th to understand why my cosmic twin, Peitor Angell, in Los Angeles would have had Charo call me on my birthday to sing to me. (He also produced her latest dance mix thingie that just recently hit #4 on the Billboard club mix charts, so "yay!" to Peitor and Charo.)
I went out to dinner twice (not on the same night, though); out to lunch once, saw Gonzo and was really, really glad I did. It was a very touching, engrossing documentary and I did not get too sad at all. I got plenty of cards and phone calls (this is not in relation to having seen Gonzo but to my birthday), and the girlfriend sent me a PajamaGram. Of course, she neglected to have a note included inside the package to alert me as to whom the PajamaGram was from, but you know, sometimes a gift just has the sender's name written all over it, doesn't it?
Me, after the UPS truck left: Hmmmm. Silky lavender PJs edged in scalloped, pink lace and a Do Not Disturb sign for the bedroom door (not that my cats can read)... Hmmmm. Who could have sent these?
And since all my other friends are hard-drinking writers full of angst, and I couldn't imagine any of them stopping their angst-ing long enough to send me, let alone anyone on Earth, a PajamaGram... Enough said.
The gf gave me many gifts, one of which -- yay!-- was a bottle of red wine. Other gifts she gave were a little more intangible, took place in the dark and are not suitable for writing about in detail on this lofty blog, but it was a wowie kind of birthday all the way around. Enough so that I actually brought her breakfast in bed during my 2-day birthday extravanganza! Yay! [Thank you, thank you, thank you! -- Ed.]
It's great
to be 48!
You know what else is great? Brand new episodes of Mad Men start this fucking Sunday and I can not wait!!!! Yippee ki yi yay. I love that show.
So. All's right with the world, for now. Hope everything's going as swimmingly in your corner of the world, gang. Must get back to work on the novel now. Thanks for visiting! See ya!
Yes, I had a perfect birthday. Yes, Charo called me on the phone and sang Happy Birthday to me, advised me not to get pregnant, and to live to be 100 while getting plenty of cuchi-cuchi. (Or however you'd spell that.) If you are not a terrifically loyal reader of this lofty blog, you must click on the links for postings on or around June 4th or 5th to understand why my cosmic twin, Peitor Angell, in Los Angeles would have had Charo call me on my birthday to sing to me. (He also produced her latest dance mix thingie that just recently hit #4 on the Billboard club mix charts, so "yay!" to Peitor and Charo.)
I went out to dinner twice (not on the same night, though); out to lunch once, saw Gonzo and was really, really glad I did. It was a very touching, engrossing documentary and I did not get too sad at all. I got plenty of cards and phone calls (this is not in relation to having seen Gonzo but to my birthday), and the girlfriend sent me a PajamaGram. Of course, she neglected to have a note included inside the package to alert me as to whom the PajamaGram was from, but you know, sometimes a gift just has the sender's name written all over it, doesn't it?
Me, after the UPS truck left: Hmmmm. Silky lavender PJs edged in scalloped, pink lace and a Do Not Disturb sign for the bedroom door (not that my cats can read)... Hmmmm. Who could have sent these?
And since all my other friends are hard-drinking writers full of angst, and I couldn't imagine any of them stopping their angst-ing long enough to send me, let alone anyone on Earth, a PajamaGram... Enough said.
The gf gave me many gifts, one of which -- yay!-- was a bottle of red wine. Other gifts she gave were a little more intangible, took place in the dark and are not suitable for writing about in detail on this lofty blog, but it was a wowie kind of birthday all the way around. Enough so that I actually brought her breakfast in bed during my 2-day birthday extravanganza! Yay! [Thank you, thank you, thank you! -- Ed.]
It's great
to be 48!
You know what else is great? Brand new episodes of Mad Men start this fucking Sunday and I can not wait!!!! Yippee ki yi yay. I love that show.
So. All's right with the world, for now. Hope everything's going as swimmingly in your corner of the world, gang. Must get back to work on the novel now. Thanks for visiting! See ya!
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