Crappy Birthday to Me

I was a grump this birthday, which is unusual, considering I am guaranteed to eat cake at some point in the day. Luckily the fact that I was a sourpuss didn't stop us from having an awesome 93rd Living Room show! Thanks to all who came out to perform / watch. During the last comic the audience swelled and I realized Luke was suprising me with a post-show party. Someone put a few boxes of friends in the corner, and then, to my delight, a bunch of pizza arrived to wish me well.

The weekend brought the same sweltering heat that caused me to spend a previous birthday desperately seeking liquids. I went out to see "Bridesmaids", which made me break my No Theaters in the Era of the Bedbugs rule. I tried to go big, getting nachos, candy AND soda (I took out a loan), but after we rode single-file up the escalator Playful Penguin-Race style, we were told that snacks at the tiny concession stand were severely limited.



It was not so much a stand as a podium in front of a vending machine. Unrefrigerated bottles of soda had just arrived and were being placed in the case. The vendor was a magician who pulled nachos out of a top hat and a box of Skittles from behind my ear. I couldn't bring myself to pay for hot soda when I get it for free at work, so I spent two hours with dry mouth and the kind of belly ache you're supposed to stop having on Halloween at age 10.

My gift to myself was to finally start running. The pace was more of the half-hearted courtesy jog you give when crossing the street. I hit a mental wall 4 minutes in, my face burst into flames, and afterwards my body felt like it was beaten with potatoes. I consider any workout a success when I can say, "at least I didn't cry!" Looks like I'm going to have to apply that to birthdays too.