Today In History

I share the birthday with Mother Teresa, PeeWee Herman and Downtown Julie Brown.

The day started off with a mysterious bag left on the kitchen table... I approached warily, as I do with anything pastel-colored. There were flowers on the bag as well, generally a sign to have weapons at the ready just in case it explodes into a big ball of feminine cutesiness. Pastel + flower motif = high danger level.

After poking and prodding at the bag, and thereby determining that it wasn't going to get any worse, I examined the contents. It seems the Husband, knowing my tendency to recoil at anything pink, had cleverly disguised a gift much to my liking inside the girly crap.

Chrome portholes for the car fenders! W00t! *happy dance* Three for each side, no less. I did mention that the car didn't have enough chrome... not that I was complaining about it, I'm just a chromaholic... and he knew I admire pretty much any car with porthole accents. Thoughtful guy, that one is!

My friends online left me some nice messages, and I'm holding out hope for a cake later this evening (or I'll be in town buying one myself... it's a Cake Day, dangit! I look forward to celebrations that call for cake.) I got a great surprise from another friend, who offered to get me tickets to a particular celebrity appearance and a meeting with said celebrity afterward (!!!), when she learned I'd be in town for the event.

I'm also officially old and fat, as determined by my efforts to purchase a pair of jeans yesterday. The stores were full of tweens and high-school girls whining about not being able to find their sizes ("but the threes are soooo baggy!") and giggling about the granny-panties on the hangers (for the record, they were bikini briefs, for crying out loud... one step away from thongs). There were no pants in the store to fit short women with apple butts and narrow waists. Yes, I know about the Apple Bottoms brand, I'm not THAT old, but I have never been able to make myself pay that kind of money for jeans. In fact, yesterday was the first time I bought new jeans in ages... usually the Salvation Army gets my business, and I don't have to break in new denim. Anyway, when I did find a pair that fit- not great, but they fit- I bought 'em and got the heck out of there, away from the shrill cellphone ringtones and like, Rodney is like, such a hottie, lawl and the microsizes and macroprices and thong underbritches and smells like teen spirit really means adolescent sweat and Clearasil and bubblegum.

Ellen Degeneres had a spiel on her show this morning about how nobody has long attention spans anymore. I forget why she said it was. Maybe she didn't; I was looking at her shoes. But as a tie-in to the earlier post about the iPhone bill, Ellen showed hers off to the audience... 900 pages, to the tune of $4300 for one month. Add an iPhone bill and that's about the total cost of my rent... for an entire YEAR. I think, even if I were rich, that kind of spending would shock me. Sometimes I'm happy to be oblivious to how much it costs to live on the greener side of the fence. Would Ellen be thrilled to get chrome portholes for HER birthday?

Actually... something tells me she would...