Birthdays are like time bombs -- hope yours is a blast.

I don't normally like to start my birthday in tears, but my father sent me an e-card with the above image, and his message said this:

To: Ray

Have a wonderful birthday. Maybe we'll have birthday cake together one day.

Love Always,
- Dad

He fcking called me Ray. I can't believe he fcking called me Ray. Wow. That's almost as good a gift as the PS2. Almost. Well, I suppose it's not really fair to compare the two.

In other good news, I'm wearing my dope new cholo shirt that Poet Friend got me for my birthday. MFHA stopped to compliment how good it looked, so it must be pretty stand out. I was planning to wear it today and tonight but decided instead to change back into my Neil-like sweater vest and save my shirt for the party on Saturday. Here's sort of what the shirt looks like, except it's cream and black, instead of that rust color shown here:


I didn't bring a lunch today because I was hoping someone would take me out for a meal. Is that presumptuous? I have my own cash if that doesn't happen. Or maybe I'll just gorge myself on cake that my co-workers will give me. I'm sure that will be great for my blood sugar.

Is it bad that I have a crush on one of limenal's law school friend? Maybe I'm just still thinking about the pasta she made with bacon and butter and onions and tomato. She also served a greens salad with nuts and goat cheese with a vinagrette. Throw in a couple beers and I was a happy happy boy for dinner last night.

I'm making myself hungry.

I'm going into sugar shock -- maybe you should use the emergency blanket

I just ate my 2nd piece of birthday day cake and I feel lighteheaded and my mouth is tingling. What's that about? I experience this at times when I ate rich bakery cakes. I starting to wonder if I'm allergic an ingredient used in professional bakeries, or maybe I do have a sugar sensitivity on my taste buds.

Thanks to everyone for the lovely birthday wishes. Special thanks to freakysparks for lunch and listening to me ramble about things I haven't even articulated enough to write down anywhere. I often feel compelled to spill random bits to you and always have. I mean, I know I have a tendency to share random personal information with near strangers, but I definitely recall times early on in your friendship when I'd hang up the phone going "what did I just say??"

Apparantly I had a vision on Saturday evening that if I was a bio-male my name would be Neil. Now I'm obsessed with this alternate nerd personality within me -- the one who wears pleated Eddie Bauer shorts for Sunday afternoon trips to the store (even if they were purchased for 90 cents at the thrift store).

I sometimes have fantasies of taking a cross-country roadtrip with an older woman with red hair who knows all the lyrics to Tupac's "I Get Around" and James Ingram's "Just Once" and really likes having sex in hotel rooms. I just wanted to get that out there. I would tell her name except then you'd have a clue to my online password that I use for every internet site that's of no security importance (i.e. not my bank or my e-mail).

I'll just stop talking now.