Like the song. Kind of. The one that goes, "You say it's your birthday! Well it's my birthday too!" You know the one I'm talking about. Anyway, that's what the heading refers too, for all you illiterates.
I'm 28 today and so far only ONE of my friends has called to wish me a happy birthday (thank you, Christie B.). Jason, who lives in Seattle, mentioned my birthday on the phone last week, so that counts. But the others, who I've now sworn to forsake, are in the dog house.
I only have 7 minutes left here, on the library computer (which keeps taking up MY time to tell me I should log out because my time has almost expired). So let me just tell you that I've had a good birthday, inspite of those who've forgotten me. Stoker gave me the music-gift that keeps on giving, an XM satellite radio receiver and a subscription. Possibly the best gift one could give the obsessive music-lover. And my parents gave me some money, which will probably be spent on more music, despite my gross need for new clothes and shoes.
Also, Stoker made dinner for me yesterday (he's working ALL day today. The life of the poor intern). And he made brownies because we're not big cake fans. It's been a good birthday. Now back to the job hunt.