E says that I only write when I am sick. She is right. I have a cold that I am profoundly afraid is going to turn into Death Cough, and so I blog. The whole summer went by without any writing. Let it be known that since June, I have done the following things ( Read more... )

There are dangers associated with being born in late August. For one thing, one's birthday may fall perilously close to Burning Man, meaning that every last person in ess eff is making last-minute changes to their art project or packing for the big dirt rave in the desert, assuming that they haven't left for the desert already, and they do not have ( Read more... )

This is about turning thirty ( Read more... )

I think that my birthday may be over now. A birthday is a limited resource. I like to parcel mine out slowly, so I can usually make my birthday last about a week. Of course, the week is over now and all that's left are a number of photos that make me suspect I am no longer glowing with youth ( Read more... )

I don't normally use LJ for scheduling purposes, but it is my birthday (was my birthday...err...yesterday) so I feel entitled to break some personal rules ( Read more... )