Happy Birthday

53 for me. Must be a mistake in those numbers. I think I'll just turn them around and make it 35. Ah... much better.

My husband bought me about a dozen birthday cards and hid them all over the house. I found some of them last night, some of them this morning. Funny cards... mostly with cats on them. He finds the greatest cat cards. I ask him every year where he buys them, but he's not telling.

One of the cards from him had three dogs on the front of the card. Each dog was wearing one of those stickers that they give out at bad parties-- the ones that say "Hello... my name is _____." The dogs, however, had the stickers on their butts, instead of on their chests. (Yet another reason never, ever, ever to have those silly stickers when you give a party. I hate those things. But the card was hysterical.)

I guess my Aunt Dolly knew how much I've been thinking about her lately because she called here tonight to wish me a happy birthday. She sounds wonderful, as usual. Her voice has never changed, and if you didn't know her age, you'd guess you were talking to a much younger woman over the phone. She told me that her legs were hurting her a little bit so she was taking aspirin. Not such a bad complaint for a woman who will be 93 on her next birthday. Unless, of course, we turn those numbers around as well and make her 39.

My cousin R called me this afternoon... to wish me a Happy 35th. (Which is where I got the transposed-numbers idea.) R is the same age as me... but we're four months apart... she was born in May. (May la 3rd, is how she has always referred to her birth date.) My cousin D out in Arizona also called... he is younger than I am by two years, which he'll remind me of from time to time. My husband and I went to our favorite restaurant for dinner tonight. So much like family there, only better. They sang Happy Birthday to me, in Italian, which was nice. The fish special tonight was king salmon from Alaska and sea bass from Hawaii... Stefano cooked mine with white wine, pine nuts, golden raisins, and apple slices... outrageously delicious. My husband ordered the same thing, except his fish was cooked in pesto sauce.

Hardly a drop of sun today, except for a few rays around 4:00 in the afternoon. And if you blinked, you missed it. Not very warm this weekend, which is not good for Galveston, being that Mardi Gras began yesterday. The Mardi Gras festivities will run till the 8th of February, and if the weather between now and then doesn't get warm and sunny, Galveston will be losing money. I never read anything in The Chronicle about New Orleans losing revenue during Mardi Gras if they get bad weather.

We've been to Mardi Gras in Galveston a few times... during the afternoon parades, not the night parades. Too loud at night, too raunchy, too boozy, too everything at night-- not something we want to be part of. I love Galveston when it's sunny and warm and fun... I don't want it spoiled by out-of-control locals and party-hardy tourists.

Speaking of parties.... A few months ago, our neighbor V had told me not to take it personally if she and her husband didn't come to our parties. She said they were the "original party poopers." She suggested that I not even 'waste' an invitation on them. So a couple of weeks ago, when I sent out the invitations for our Valentine's party, I didn't write one out for V and her husband.

Last night while I was walking Gracie, I saw V outside walking her dog. I asked her if she was still in the "party pooper" category.
Why do you ask? said V.
Because we're having a Valentine's party, said I. I told her I had sent out invitations and didn't want her feelings hurt when she saw all our friends coming to our house for the party.
Valentine's party? We didn't get an invitation, said she.
I didn't give you one because you told me you and B were dedicated party-poopers, said I.

Long pause. Oh yeah, that's right, said V.
Then she asked me when the party was going to be.
I told her the date and she said: "Well, I think if you give us an invitation to that, we might be able to make it."

I wrote out an invitation for them as soon as I came into the house last night, and walked next door and gave it to them. I told V to let me know if they're going to come, or if they'll choose to poop out of the party. "And I won't take it personally," I told her.

V is a hard one to figure out. I told my husband that I'm just going to keep on giving her invitations to every party that we have, no matter what she tells me about being party-poopers.

Anyway... that's been the day. A pretty good one for the first day of my 53rd year. Oh.... pardon me... let's make that the first day of my 35th year.