Yup, today's my birthday. Twenty-nine-mother-effing years old. I don't know how that happened, and I most assuredly just freaked myself the hell out by thinking about how this is actually the start of my 30th year. Jesus. On the plus side, I know I say this every year, but no shit, I think I actually learned some things getting to 29. Not that I've applied these lessons, but at least I know I'm doing things wrong before I do them now (does that make it better or worse?). Maybe that's something to work on before the 30th year comes to a close.
I can't bear to not run on my birthday, despite the drugs, so I'm going to try to get myself outside in the next couple of minutes. In the meantime, you may admire my gifts to myself:
UPDATE: I didn't want to mention it since it's not my story to tell, but two of my most treasured friends are making it official. Read Abbe's tale of Baker's proposal here.