birthday

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When is your birthday? Mine was on Sunday, and a I had a few friends over to celebrate. We had some excellent food, great conversation – and tons of fun working on building my LEGO Death Star. What’s your most memorable birthday? What about your ideal birthday? I have to say this was definitely my ideal for a perfect celebration.

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My birthday was quite stressful (working on Gnomedex and Lockergnome stuff), but it was also very fun. The Internet has changed the way I celebrate my birthday, wholly. Buddies from a variety of social networks have been sending their best wishes throughout the day (ICQ, Skype, FaceBook, MySpace, etc.). It’s been overwhelming, but in a very nice way. If you were awake last night, you may have seen this happen in my home office – as captured by one of my Australian friends. Ponzi tried to coordinate everyone in chat to sing “happy birthday” at the same time.

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I’m always grateful for gifts, but I do have a few guidelines for family members who ASK ME WHAT I WOULD RATHER HAVE. I do have a running list of stuff I’d like to have but would never actually purchase for myself – and I also have a list of things that I would much rather purchase for myself:

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The ol’ song says that diamonds are a girl’s best friend. I believe that the entire diamond industry is a racket, and I can’t wait for synthetic diamonds to sweep in and drive prices down. I’m sure our female faves will still lust after the real thing. Nobody’s going to ask you if the diamonds are artificial or not, and if they even have to ask – they can’t see the difference, anyway! We’re not talking about cubic zirconia here. The man-made diamond trade is long overdue for men in love with women in love with diamonds.

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Just like I wrote earlier… it’s my birthday. Birthdays are fun, aren’t they? On my fifth birthday, I got to fly around in a Cessna plane above the city of Des Moines, IA (thinking I wanted to become a pilot). On my sixth birthday, my parents hired a magician (thinking I wanted to become a prestidigitator). On my seventh birthday, I don’t remember much because someone spiked the fruit punch (just kidding, but wouldn’t that make a wonderful story for the grandkids). On my eighth birthday, I stopped keeping track of my birthdays as I was quickly becoming… an “old man.â€Â? Remember the days when “21″ was old? Neither do I – and they say that memory is the first thing to go. The only thing I want this year is a bigger chest.

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