Happy Birthday to Me. . .

Well, so far I'm having a wonderful birthday. Seriously. I mean, I actually am. Note that it is 8:23 am - things could still go to hell - but so far this has been a great birthday. Last night I dyed my hair purple, well auburn with purplish streaks, and I can already tell that it was a very good move. I wanted to go get another tattoo too (I was depressed last night) but I chickened out. It's possible that I already have enough tattoos, and even though the one I was going to get wasn't a new one so much as it was an addition to an old one, still. It gets ridiculous.

So. I am 42 today. According to the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy that's the meaning of the universe. So, I should get really wise right around now - or something - and also, it is a multiple of seven. Things move in sevens (she said cheerfully, putting on the tinfoil hat that is really always only a few inches away from her head. She can't help it. Conspiracy theorists run in her family. As, apparently, does speaking about oneself in the third person.) and seven years make a life cycle during which all your cells change over. I think. According to my mom one time when I was like 10, anyway, and she probably read it in the New York Times, so it must be true. And thus, today marks the beginning of a whole new life for me.

It's two weeks since Toby died (I got a damn letter from the vet yesterday, a 800th generation xerox of that sappy Rainbow Bridge poem; stupid thing looked like it had been used as a handkerchief before it was xeroxed; damn you nice people; I cried like a baby.) and he was 14, which is of course two sevens, and his death did mark the end of a whole era of my life. M will be 14 this year, and finish middle school, A will come home - in 3 weeks. She'll be moving in. Goodbye to me pretending to be 35 or so and not have a 22 year old daughter. Hello giant hot water bill.

Anyway. This morning I woke up, or Theo woke me up, as he likes to do. M pointed out last weekend that Theo barks at you when you don't obey his secret mind control waves. He stands there and thinks wake up, human!! at you and if that doesn't work (it actually often does; it's unnerving to be stared at like that) then he starts barking and trying to herd you into the kitchen. This morning he had both cats as accomplices. So I got up, really early, took out the trash and took Theo to the park. Where, mirabile dictu, there was not another living soul, so I could let him run, and I walked, and it was beautiful, if chilly (coldest spring I ever remember); there was mist on the water and birds abounding; it was utterly lovely and I'm very glad I went.

Then we got home and there was a little lost hound dog in the street. So we rescued him - he was a total sweetie, although he didn't seem to see very well. I brought him inside and then saw A, my adorably cute neighbor walking down the street with a leash in his hand. So I yelled, "Hey are you looking for a dog?" and he was - and this little dog, who is blind, is up for adoption. A. dogsits and walks dogs and volunteers for dog rescue organizations, etc. He is also a really talented painter and gorgeous, did I mention gorgeous? Also he has a motorcycle. And a girlfriend - of course. And I am NOT, not, not going to adopt that blind hound dog. No. No I'm not. Don't let me. Stop me someone. I am not that stupid. I have a dog and two cats. And two kids. Stop me before I adopt that blind hound dog, someone, please!

So this is my birthday morning and I am really happy that I managed to rescue that sweet little blind dog, that I went to the park, that the park was deserted (that's my own personal birthday present from the gods) and that I have purple hair. And I don't have to take a shower this morning since I took a long one last night! Wahooooo!