I'm 29 now. Just toeing the cusp of 30, and wondering if this really makes any difference. One of the mamas I hang out with told me a bunch of astrology stuff about my 29th year that I now can't remember (I don't really believe in that stuff, but find it fun--like a party trick). But basically it boiled down to: If you fight the inevitable and freak out about being 30 soon, you'll miss out on a lot of really good growth.

I don't think you have to believe in astrology to agree with that.

Yesterday was a spectacular day, I must say. It started out with calls from my mom and my aunt to wish me a good one (of course, no call from Dad--he always forgets). In the afternoon, E. and I hung out with some mama friends and their kids. I share my birthday with one of them, and she was nice enough to get a cake to celebrate. She's a cool lady. I'm happy that we share a birthday. Anyway, in the evening, C. picked up sushi takeout and we ate spicy tuna rolls and edamame while E. had a (very) late nap. Then C. dragged out presents, one by one. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what he got me (and no, it's not dirty, so getcher mind out of the gutter, LA and all the rest of ya), because it's...well, let's just call it a secret and leave it at that.

But I will say this: C. wins husband of the decade for this one. He would have to raise Nick Drake from the grave and have him play me a private concert to top what he did this year. Damn, how did I get so lucky?

Note to self--Read this entry again next time you feel like bitching about some little stupid thing. 'Cos you are a lucky, lucky gal.