I just turned 41 today and I know that's not old or anything but for some reason I'd rather stay 40. It's a nice even number and hell, it has a certain ring to it. I've instructed my daughter to say from now on, when asked about my age, "my mother says to say she's 40." That way I can preserve my number and the kid isn't forced to fib.

If anything horrendous happens in the next 90 minutes I'll be sure to revise, but so far I've had a good one. Let's see, there were lots of phone calls, Facebook shouts and such. I watched "Casino Jack", a film about ex- super lobbyist Jack Abramoff and the congress critters who loved him. Next was a TCM gem, "That Hamilton Woman" about star-crossed lovers with Laurence Olivier and Vivian Leigh. If I was flush I'd have gone out to the movies, but it turned out there was plenty on at home anyway. My daughter was more than a little unpleasant this morning, refusing to wish me happy birthday until she found her new Wii game. But then we think she's going through precocious puberty and she's always crabby so I didn't take it personally. 

Today I treated myself to a solitary birthday meal at Hooters (naked wings and sangria in case you're wondering), where I was served by a curvaceous young beauty who took extra special care of me because she too has a near Christmas birthday. Since turning fat a few years ago, I can no longer eat chicken wings with abandon the way I once did. A night of spicy wings and pretty gals is a special treat indeed. The young lady pictured above is a real pro...gave me a huge Sangria for free, so big I coudn't even finish.  Thanks Lisa!

Here's to a wonderful holiday season, and don't forget about those Christmas babies. We know everyone's burned out after all the baby Jesus hoopla, but we need some love too.  

Peace on Earth.