Happy Birthday to Me!

Yesterday was my birthday (multi-39th, if you have to ask), and for the first time in many months I woke up happy. That's because the night before I'd gone to bed with my first gift: a Democratic Congress.*

When I opened my email first thing, I found the lovely tale of gratitude from Tim Schaffert I posted just below, along with birthday greetings from all over. Then I scanned the news online, and saw that the Senate would likely go Democrat as well.

The riches continued: A friend took me to lunch at a lovely new Asian restaurant; then the Boy Wonder gave me a double CD by Funkadelic, appropriately titled "Music for Your Mother." After that, BW told me about a stupendous gift that had just come from the White House: Donald Rumsfeld's head on a platter. During all this, I was basking in the record-breaking 80 degrees and glorious sunshine. (We had 3" of snow two weeks ago, and depending on which weather report you believe--they all differ here in Denver--there's more coming in the next couple of days.) [Edit: It didn't snow, and temps weren't as predicted either. That's life on the Front Range.]

Later, Darling Husband came home with three (3!) bunches of flowers, which I fashioned into two exquisitely tasteful arrangements for our gracious dining room. Then DH, BW and I went to dinner at Casablanca Moroccan Restaurant, where BW discovered a monstrous affinity for fatoush salad, which I'd ordered for myself but was happy to share. We had foule (hot fava bean puree with chopped onion and tomato) as an appetizer, which prompted my labored joke: "What foule this morsel be!" BW also dug into the b'stella (flaky puff pastry layered with chicken, cinnamon & almonds, topped with powdered sugar), and made like Stanley Kowalski: "B'stella!!! I really love you, b'stella!" Once back in the car, we cracked "Casablanca" jokes that don't bear repeating (DH was "shocked! Shocked!"), though they were killingly funny at the time.

Though I didn't have any real birthday cake (too full!), the metaphorical icing on it was news of the split between Britney Spears and Kevin Federline. Just a few days ago, I wondered to DH how long it would be before she dumped him. On the way home from the restaurant, I said, "I just bet Jon Stewart opens with that story." Sure enough, he did. Am I psychic or what? (P.S. I love that "The Daily Show" comes on at 9pm here; back in Virginia we used to watch the rerun next day at 7, which often interfered with dinner.)

*Too bad I left VA last year, else I would have sent in an absentee ballot for Jim Webb, as well as avoided the horrendous scenes at the Denver voting centers. After bypassing the one nearest our home, which had a line stretching at least 100 yards--and that was just the people outside--we drove 30 minutes through heavy traffic and then spent 2 hours-plus in a school that was reputed to have the shortest wait. I passed the time on a providentially placed couch in the lobby, with my arm propped on a cushion, otherwise I wouldn't have made it. Darling Husband slogged through the line and phoned my mobile when he got near the front.