I don’t know the original source of the image or any of the important things one should know before posting an image publicly, so I’ll take all blame for sharing it here.
My pal Sal made me this hilarious rendition of the party he’d throw me if he could invite monkeys, manatees, and gators to a birthday party. Safely, I mean. You could cart all three into a room and dress them up and give them cake. I guess…
I think the card/imaginary party is a safer way to go.
Also, fewer chances of any sort of Fish and Wildlife Service or other law enforcement intervention. The older I get, the less desirable these things become.
I’ve been neglecting you a bit mostly due to illness and then some unsuccessful adventures in re-theming this site. I’ve been too stubborn to give in and hire a wordpress guru, but I’m getting close to admitting I can’t roll my own any longer (a conclusion I should have reached a long time ago, I know).
I’ll be back soon – expect a post on Monday about the craptacular 2008 SyFy movie, Lost City Raiders.
Just as soon as I sober up.
Not from my birthday, from the Lost City Raiders viewing session. It’s a doozy, but I mean that in the best possible way.
The oldest restored post from my archives is dated July 22, 1997 so I’m declaring this my blog’s birthday.
I hate the word blogiversary.
After littering my drafts file with post ideas for today, I scrapped them all and decided this: you’re going to get a present.
Not all of you, one of you.
A few of you.
Not sure how many yet.
Leave me a comment with an actual email address I can reach you at (no one else will be able to see it) and FRIDAY I will devise some arbitrary scheme for selecting winners.
update: you have until 5 p.m. EST to leave a comment on this post that will make you eligible for strange and exotic prizes.
The prizes will be groovy, but I’m not going to post pictures here because the contents of each prize might change slightly depending on where I need to ship them.
Then, you can spend the rest of your day celebrating any old way you wish.
Not sure how to celebrate? Start with a how-to video on proper Opossum pedicure techniques from our old friend M.E. Pearl:
I’m not sure if opossums should be pets. Or if you should give them pedicures. I am sure it’s an excellent video to start your day with. Don’t end your day with this video – that way lies nightmares.
If you want to get really crazy, you can encourage all your friends to like my facebook fan page, because facebook popularity plays some arbitrary role in whether a publisher wishes to publish me in dead-tree form.
And what could be more appropriate on a 16th birthday than some angst about popularity?
Since it’s Evil Agent’s birthday, I figured this a good time to post this draft from December.
Husband, Evil and I were at brunch at our favorite local restaurant. The ubiquitous tin ceilings in most old buildings in our neighborhood are pretty, but they contribute to some loud dining adventures when the house is full.
Evil was having hot tea. There was a pot of hot water and a container of unopened tea bags on our table.
Evil asked for more hot water and the waiter asked if she wanted a new tea bag. She said no and gestured at the teabag already in her teacup, so when he brought the hot water he took the container of unopened tea bags to another table. The noise level at the restaurant was very high and clearly Evil and the Waiter misunderstood one another, because she couldn’t understand why he’d taken the teabags.
I thought she was looking for her hot water, which was sitting right in front of her. So now I was also confused, because I was apparently the only one who heard her original exchange with the waiter clearly.
The manager was passing by and stopped to see why Evil looked distressed.
This next part was only funny to me.
Evil told the manager that the waiter took her tea bag away, but she kept gesturing at the teabag in her teacup. He politely pointed out that she had a teabag. She kept pointing and saying, “He took it away.”
Then there was a prolonged exchange where I was trying to clarify why the tea was gone, Evil was asking for a tea bag, the manager were pointing at the tea bag, and the people at the next table were watching us all like we were a bit crazy.
Husband turned his attention to ordering a beer. Can you blame him?
The manager was very patient and, instead of picking up the teabag and aggressively pointing out she had a teabag, he asked questions until he found out what exactly she wanted. Evil didn’t raise her voice or shoot anyone and it was all resolved quickly when the manager gave Evil a new tea bag.
The manager, unfortunately, chewed the waiter out but I stopped back in later and apologized on our behalf and everyone lived happily ever after. (We also left a big tip).
The lesson here is that misunderstandings happen and that exercising a little patience is better than immediately getting angry or behaving rudely or defensively. Or maybe the lesson is that we should have ordered mimosas.
I’m not really sure why I concluded this post with a lesson – I don’t remember how I intended to introduce it now, it’s been too long. Since I can’t remember what the point of the post was going to be, I’m going to semi-pointlessly embed the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party. Although it’s EvilAgent’s birthday, it’s probably everyone else’s unbirthday, so let’s all celebrate together, with tea!
Disney World is an excellent place to spend your birthday. I’m not sure I was in my right mind when I decided we should get up at 5 a.m. on my 40th birthday to go run the Princess and the Frog 5K around Epcot, but it was really fun and I’m glad we did it. We weren’t signed up for the half-marathon that was the centerpiece of Princess Weekend. The other centerpiece, that is, besides me.
A Disney birthday, you see, is an egomaniac’s paradise. Cast members constantly wish you happy birthday and random strangers sing “happy birthday” to you while you wait in line for rides. You can drink outrageously strong birthday margaritas in FakeMexico and then ride the incredibly surreal ride that I can’t adequately describe because we were laughing too hard.
Next door to FakeMexico is, logically enough, FakeNorway, where you can study the huge mural and learn about the Norwegian national treasures: polar bears, seagulls, vikings, and giant women with clipboards.
We had an outrageously good time at the Magic Kingdom, Epcot, and (no kidding) at the Wide World of Sports Complex. And, of course, we had a great time seeing Alice in Wonderland Friday night. I have much more to say and many emails to respond to, but it all has to wait until I recover for a while.
This morning, someone referred to my “confidence, strength and intelligence” as well as my “extraordinary talent, charisma, athleticism, wit, unfailing good judgment, sexiness, grace, beauty, and mad skateboarding skillz.”
Okay, only the first three were actually suggested by another human being, it’s not outside the realm of possibility (read: entirely true) that the others were supplied by the voice in my head. Or possibly my mom.
No matter. You already knew these things, for I am your queen and you will worship me. Why else would you be here? It has come to my attention that you’re behind schedule on shrine you promised to build in my honor. This displeases me, but I am trying to learn to be patient with lesser beings, so I’ll give you a little more time.
In lieu of being worshipped at my own shrine this spring, I tried to convince Rania that we should run the Disney Princess Half-Marathon. The nice people at Disney are throwing a whole weekend in honor of my birthday, how can we not go? Rania was underwhelmed by the idea.
I have much work to do, but so do you. Why are you still sitting there? And don’t even think of using linoleum or other vinyl flooring anywhere in the shrine. The consequences? You just do not want to think about the consequences.