On this day in 1535, Jacques Cartier discovered Montreal, Canada. In 1935, Italy invaded Ethiopia (here's hoping they left a meatball or two behind). In 1958, Guinea declared itself independent from France. Where's Guinea? Maybe you should've rode those coattails a little longer for PR purposes, my friends. Or maybe I should look at a map. Man, I love the random trivia that Wikipedia brings into our lives.
Anyway, my whole pointless point is that on this day in 1977, my always understated, extremely softspoken mother was experiencing the tail end of "NINE months with my head in a toilet, THIRTEEN hours in labor, for THIS." (But, of course, because of her slight Boston accent: "Fah THIS.") I heard these words approximately 15 jillion times growing up, my very own tailor-made Irish-Catholic guilt trip, usually accompanied by some sort of sweeping hand gesture to represent the unspeakable madness that I'd brought into her life by not cleaning my room/not studying for a math test/not calling and telling her where I was when I KNOW how she worries.
On kind of a whim, I sent her flowers, to be delivered today. I know it's my birthday and all, but I did break her coccyx bone with my giant head almost thirty years ago. And nothing says "hey, sorry for destroying your ass" like a lovely arrangement from Winston's.
Plus, you have to be The Nicest Person on the Freakin' Planet to send someone else flowers on your birthday, right? If I weren't already an only child, this would've just upped my inheritance big time. I would've scored the Cape house AND my dad's floating magnetic pen. That crazy thing is suspended in midair!
Anyway, the weekend was good (it feels weird to write that because I feel like I don't usually do weekend updates here, but it's my birthday so everything I say is interesting). Went to what was officially my last game of the season at Fenway on Friday night with not-a-midget Mark, who turned out to be a remarkably good date... great seats, bought me beer, and insisted on giving me his jacket when I was cold. I've decided to exclusively date family and friends from now on for these perks. Saturday afternoon, which was delicious in its autumnness, I met up with my friend Doug and his lovely new girlfriend Tina in Somerville for lunch, and afterwards we happened upon the fluff festival. It seems that fluff (yes, of the marshmallow variety) was invented right there in Union Square. Who knew? Spent Saturday night with four fantastical friends, best known to you as the first four links over there on the right. Sunday night, dinner at Sonsie with the people who created me. And tonight, dinner with the Jens, both Party and Elusive... which I guess means it'll be a great time that's hard to locate. I'm birthdayed out and loving it.
Also, I knew it was time to age a year because I like to be on the cutting edge of the blogosphere (i.e. the blutting bledge) and really, how trendy are birthdays getting? "Oh, it's kind of a blirthday thing. I guess you wouldn't understand." [fake smile]
Incidentally, here are some other people who got all borned today: Sting, Gandhi, Tiffany, and my beloved former roommate Ryan. I've only had the opportunity to sing "ber ner ner ner ner ner, you say it's your birthday, ber ner ner ner ner ner, it's my birthday too, yeah" to the last person on that list, but believe you me, if I ever cross paths with the Tiffster, she's getting an earful. Gandhi too, but first he's getting a sandwich.