Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Birthday. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 4, 2022
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
It's Difficult to be Stealthy about This Whole Birthday Thing...
...When your friends conspire to sneak you presents--like, say, the festive pinata and adorable li'l cake pictured above--before my arrival at work this morning.
There were two small flaws in their plan, though.
Flaw one: Kathleen snuck over to my desk to drop off the prezzies before I got in, only to find I had arrived before she did.
Flaw two: My birthday is tomorrow.
No matter. The sugar rush is vastly appreciated, and the pinata has sparked much discussion as to what, exactly, he is. A llama? A donkey? A donkey-chupacabra?
It's my birthday pinata. Therefore, it is a llama. And his name is Roy.
Thanks, Kathleen and Jessie!
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Happy Birthday to Me...
My coworkers brought in a metric ton of food. Feel free to stop by and have some.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Friday, May 1, 2009
Friday is Bring Your 8th Wonder of the World to Work Day
This coming Monday, May 4, is my birthday. While I'm not feeling especially celebratory this year--one of those "how ther hell did I wind up here?" kind of deals--I'm not past buying something for myself.
This year, that "something" wound up being something out of the ordinary, and yet quite fitting for me.
One of my coworkers, who knows of my loves for both classic cinema and action figures, pointed me to a Japanese website that had the two figures pictured above available at a deep discount: King Kong (from the 1933 original, not from the more recent--and more inferior--remakes) and the Tyrannosaurus Rex that he beats the stuffing out of in one of the greatest action sequences ever filmed. And since my budget could handle such a relatively minor expenditure (I would get both figures for less than the price of one) and there were no toys on my Amazon wishlist, I went ahead and placed the order.
The T-Rex arrived early this week, but Kong (shipped separately for whatever reason) didn't show up until today. As soon as he did, though, they both went on display in their full black-and-white glory, much to the delight of my officemates.
They'll come home with me tonight when I toddle off for my three-day weekend and take their proper place atop my TV--from there, they'll greet one and all who dare come to La Casa del Terror (once I actually buy new furniture and clean the place, of course).
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
My Birthday Week Horoscope
Courtesy of Free Will Astrology:
An engineering company has plans to grow flowers on the moon. Paragon Space Development intends to land mustard seeds inside a small greenhouse dome on the lunar surface by 2011. If all goes well, they will bloom within two weeks, and, thanks to the marvels of communications technology, we earthlings will soon thereafter view one of the most iconic photographs ever seen. Paragon hopes the inspiring image of yellow blossoms on the lunar landscape will incite a new wave of space exploration. Take your cue from this vignette, Taurus. Come up with a riveting new personal symbol: some photo or image or object that thrills your imagination and inspires you to outdo all your previous efforts in pursuit of an ambitious future goal.
An engineering company has plans to grow flowers on the moon. Paragon Space Development intends to land mustard seeds inside a small greenhouse dome on the lunar surface by 2011. If all goes well, they will bloom within two weeks, and, thanks to the marvels of communications technology, we earthlings will soon thereafter view one of the most iconic photographs ever seen. Paragon hopes the inspiring image of yellow blossoms on the lunar landscape will incite a new wave of space exploration. Take your cue from this vignette, Taurus. Come up with a riveting new personal symbol: some photo or image or object that thrills your imagination and inspires you to outdo all your previous efforts in pursuit of an ambitious future goal.
Monday, April 6, 2009
This Year's Amazon Wishlist
My birthday is now less than one month away.
For those who care, this means a couple of important things: The embargo on buying myself DVDs, CDs and/or books has officially gone into effect (not like I've got money to do such anyway, but still...); and I've updated my Amazon Wishlist.
I've done something different with the Wishlist this year, though. In the past, I've gotten comments about the size of my Wishlist along the lines of "It's so big? How can I possibly choose?" Understandable. My Wishlist has had as many as 90 items on it. While that leaves a lot more room for surprise and less room for anticipation on my part, it can (and did) lead to undue confusion and anxiety on the part of gift-givers.
This year, I've pared the list way down--under 30 items as of this writing. The list is now more focused, with more DVDs and books that I not only really, really want, but that my friends might be most likely to afford in these tight times.
Not that I'm asking everyone (or, really, anyone) who reads this page to buy me something. As Mrs. Lovett sang, "Times is hard, times is haaaaaaard!" Also? I'm not boiling over with enthusiasm about the annual ritual this year. My job is in jeopardy (due to the recession, not through my competence or lack thereof). I've lost friends both figuratively (as in being dumped out of their lives without ceremony or explanation) and literally (as in shuffling off the mortal coil). I think I may just take the day off from work, have a quiet lunch or dinner on my own, and leave the circumstance and pomp for another time.
Of course, if any of you are inclined to buy me a little sumthin'-sumthin, I'm not exactly going to turn it down or send it back. Just sayin'.
For those who care, this means a couple of important things: The embargo on buying myself DVDs, CDs and/or books has officially gone into effect (not like I've got money to do such anyway, but still...); and I've updated my Amazon Wishlist.
I've done something different with the Wishlist this year, though. In the past, I've gotten comments about the size of my Wishlist along the lines of "It's so big? How can I possibly choose?" Understandable. My Wishlist has had as many as 90 items on it. While that leaves a lot more room for surprise and less room for anticipation on my part, it can (and did) lead to undue confusion and anxiety on the part of gift-givers.
This year, I've pared the list way down--under 30 items as of this writing. The list is now more focused, with more DVDs and books that I not only really, really want, but that my friends might be most likely to afford in these tight times.
Not that I'm asking everyone (or, really, anyone) who reads this page to buy me something. As Mrs. Lovett sang, "Times is hard, times is haaaaaaard!" Also? I'm not boiling over with enthusiasm about the annual ritual this year. My job is in jeopardy (due to the recession, not through my competence or lack thereof). I've lost friends both figuratively (as in being dumped out of their lives without ceremony or explanation) and literally (as in shuffling off the mortal coil). I think I may just take the day off from work, have a quiet lunch or dinner on my own, and leave the circumstance and pomp for another time.
Of course, if any of you are inclined to buy me a little sumthin'-sumthin, I'm not exactly going to turn it down or send it back. Just sayin'.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
They Say It's Your Birthday...
Happy birthday, Superbadfriend! Have a grand celebration--no one deserves it more!
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
A Matter of Time
My birthday was celebrated with my best friends on Saturday, when we saw Iron Man at the Davis (and enjoyed it very much), ate dinner and drank Bloody Marys and the Daily Bar & Grill (and enjoyed it/them very much) and had dessert at Taste of Heaven (and enjoyed it very much), with many lovely and appropriate presents given (books about classic theaters and silent films, a DVD boxed set, an angel to watch over me). A lovely time was had by all.
Sunday, though, was my actual birthday. The evening was spent at Mom's house, where she made me dinner and gave me leftovers to take home. The only thing differentiating the evening from any other spent at her house was the chocolate cake and ice cream. Mom is allergic to chocolate--gives her migraines--so she sent the remainder of the cake home with me, along with nine boxes of various teas. (I'd told her I didn't need anything for my birthday, but she decided that I needed tea. Who am I to argue with Mom?)
Sunday morning and afternoon, however, were mine.
Even with the festivities on Saturday, I wasn't in the best of moods. No surprise there. Birthdays often make me moody and introspective--perhaps overly so. I look forward with apprehension. I look back with regret. I look at now like I'd look at vanilla pudding: Not bad, but not exciting, either. Is the glass half-full or half-empty? Answer: If there's anything left in the glass at all, you're not drinking hard enough.
When I'm in a mood like that, there are several ways I can shake myself from it. Watch some movies. Listen to music. Take a long walk. Shop.
I decided to combine the latter two: Take a long walk and do a bit of shopping. It would be just over two miles' worth of walking, and I'd take care of some needs and, maybe, some wants. Just the thing to vacuum out the cobwebs.
Because of our long, more-harsh-than-usual winter, I hadn't gotten out to take a long walk for a while--and my body had no problem letting me know that it didn't appreciate it now. My legs were leaden. My back ached. My arms didn't like the heavy, bulky shopping bags they supported.
But that all happened after I got back to La Casa del Terror. While I was walking, though, I felt little discomfort of either body or mind. I picked up many cans of Friskies for the Girlish Girls (who beg for a tin to be popped open first think in the morning, whether they've finished last night's kibble or not), then headed toward Target.
Target and I are great friends, especially with one within walking distance of home. Sometimes, our friendship is too great, as the size of my Target Visa bill will often attest. Still, there are things I need there--laundry detergent, mouthwash, boxer briefs and loaves of bread. There are also lots of things there that I want--action figures, scented candles, tasty foods that aren't remotely good for me and DVDs. (That last item is off limits for the moment, though, considering that I've bought a few lately and the ones I haven't bought are on my Amazon wishlist through the end of this month; after then, everything's fair game.)
But I had something nibbling at the back of my brain for a while--not a need, necessarily, but not really a want, either. More of a "Well, I've never bought one of those before, now have?" And while I was in Target, winding my way through the shoe department and back around to bed and bath, the nibble became a bite when I reached the jewelry counter--I wanted to buy a watch.
This may not sound like anything extraordinary, nor should it. People buy watches every day. Except...as far as I could remember, I never had. My family had bought me plenty of watches over the years--reliable, affordable Timex; stylish, sophisticated Perry Ellis; old-fashioned, impractical-yet-cool pocket watches. And this didn't even account for the watches inherited from family members who had passed on, like the half dozen or so pocket watches we found when Grandma died, or the railroad watch Dad left me. So there was never a need to buy a watch.
However, of all of the watches given to me in my life, only one is in more-or-less working order--the Timex Indiglo, given to Dad the same Christmas Mom gave me and my brother the exact same watch. Mine stopped working ages ago; my brother's may or may not be. But Dad's? Took the licking, kept on ticking. And it looks it--battered, scratched, Indiglo feature (that lights the face up in the dark) functioning only occasionally, crystal cracked and splintered. Keeps time pretty damn well, though.
Even so, it's not exactly an everyday watch. I needed something that that didn't look like it had been run over by a rush hour's worth of cars. I needed to buy my own damn watch for once.
I looked over the surprisingly large selection of watches at Target--mostly Timexes, most with the Indiglo feature (is it standard now?), all affordable. I quickly narrowed it down to two--one with a stainless-steel face and matching band, and one with an old-fashioned, off-white face with Roman numerals and a brown leather band. I could have chosen either one and not chosen poorly, but I came away with the old-fashioned face. Guess I'm just an old-fashioned kind of guy.
This doesn't mean that I won't wear the old Indiglo anymore. Given its relative functionality, it'll do just fine for weekend wear--kind of like that ratty old sweater that you've had forever and just don't want to throw away quite yet. But the new Indiglo? It's on my wrist right now. And it looks good.
Sunday, though, was my actual birthday. The evening was spent at Mom's house, where she made me dinner and gave me leftovers to take home. The only thing differentiating the evening from any other spent at her house was the chocolate cake and ice cream. Mom is allergic to chocolate--gives her migraines--so she sent the remainder of the cake home with me, along with nine boxes of various teas. (I'd told her I didn't need anything for my birthday, but she decided that I needed tea. Who am I to argue with Mom?)
Sunday morning and afternoon, however, were mine.
Even with the festivities on Saturday, I wasn't in the best of moods. No surprise there. Birthdays often make me moody and introspective--perhaps overly so. I look forward with apprehension. I look back with regret. I look at now like I'd look at vanilla pudding: Not bad, but not exciting, either. Is the glass half-full or half-empty? Answer: If there's anything left in the glass at all, you're not drinking hard enough.
When I'm in a mood like that, there are several ways I can shake myself from it. Watch some movies. Listen to music. Take a long walk. Shop.
I decided to combine the latter two: Take a long walk and do a bit of shopping. It would be just over two miles' worth of walking, and I'd take care of some needs and, maybe, some wants. Just the thing to vacuum out the cobwebs.
Because of our long, more-harsh-than-usual winter, I hadn't gotten out to take a long walk for a while--and my body had no problem letting me know that it didn't appreciate it now. My legs were leaden. My back ached. My arms didn't like the heavy, bulky shopping bags they supported.
But that all happened after I got back to La Casa del Terror. While I was walking, though, I felt little discomfort of either body or mind. I picked up many cans of Friskies for the Girlish Girls (who beg for a tin to be popped open first think in the morning, whether they've finished last night's kibble or not), then headed toward Target.
Target and I are great friends, especially with one within walking distance of home. Sometimes, our friendship is too great, as the size of my Target Visa bill will often attest. Still, there are things I need there--laundry detergent, mouthwash, boxer briefs and loaves of bread. There are also lots of things there that I want--action figures, scented candles, tasty foods that aren't remotely good for me and DVDs. (That last item is off limits for the moment, though, considering that I've bought a few lately and the ones I haven't bought are on my Amazon wishlist through the end of this month; after then, everything's fair game.)
But I had something nibbling at the back of my brain for a while--not a need, necessarily, but not really a want, either. More of a "Well, I've never bought one of those before, now have?" And while I was in Target, winding my way through the shoe department and back around to bed and bath, the nibble became a bite when I reached the jewelry counter--I wanted to buy a watch.
This may not sound like anything extraordinary, nor should it. People buy watches every day. Except...as far as I could remember, I never had. My family had bought me plenty of watches over the years--reliable, affordable Timex; stylish, sophisticated Perry Ellis; old-fashioned, impractical-yet-cool pocket watches. And this didn't even account for the watches inherited from family members who had passed on, like the half dozen or so pocket watches we found when Grandma died, or the railroad watch Dad left me. So there was never a need to buy a watch.
However, of all of the watches given to me in my life, only one is in more-or-less working order--the Timex Indiglo, given to Dad the same Christmas Mom gave me and my brother the exact same watch. Mine stopped working ages ago; my brother's may or may not be. But Dad's? Took the licking, kept on ticking. And it looks it--battered, scratched, Indiglo feature (that lights the face up in the dark) functioning only occasionally, crystal cracked and splintered. Keeps time pretty damn well, though.
Even so, it's not exactly an everyday watch. I needed something that that didn't look like it had been run over by a rush hour's worth of cars. I needed to buy my own damn watch for once.
I looked over the surprisingly large selection of watches at Target--mostly Timexes, most with the Indiglo feature (is it standard now?), all affordable. I quickly narrowed it down to two--one with a stainless-steel face and matching band, and one with an old-fashioned, off-white face with Roman numerals and a brown leather band. I could have chosen either one and not chosen poorly, but I came away with the old-fashioned face. Guess I'm just an old-fashioned kind of guy.
This doesn't mean that I won't wear the old Indiglo anymore. Given its relative functionality, it'll do just fine for weekend wear--kind of like that ratty old sweater that you've had forever and just don't want to throw away quite yet. But the new Indiglo? It's on my wrist right now. And it looks good.
Monday, April 7, 2008
A Trip Up the Amazon
I admit it--I'm not the easiest person to buy gifts for.
It's not that my friends and family don't know my interests, likes, dislikes, etc. They know them well. I love watching and reading about movies. I love action figures and lunchboxes. I love Bettie Page.
So there are plenty of things I might actually like or want. The real question my friends and family must ask? "Does he have [insert potential gift here] already?"
This is not an unreasonable question. I probably have more DVDs than your neighborhood Blockbuster (no, really...just ask anybody who's ever been to my apartment) and enough books to populate a small, eclectic library. I'm very much a Taurus--I like to collect shiny objects around me in abundance--and more than once in the recent past, friends have bought birthday or Christmas presents for me, only to find that DVD or book already in my collection.
The solution to this problem? My Amazon wishlist.
I can't claim that I thought of this all by myself; several friends have had wishlists on Amazon for years. It's an interesting peek into the likes/dislikes of someone you know, or presume to know. What, for instance, does it say about me that my wishlist includes The Seven Samurai, Enchanted, Olivier's Hamlet, Attack of 50 Ft. Woman, Do the Right Thing, several episodes of the original Doctor Who series (as well as seasons two and three of the current series) and a book about Mego action figures? I don't know. That's for any individual reader of the list to decide.
Even though such a list would seem to limit the choices my friends can make and would seem to limit the amount of surprise I can have--even if the wishlist has, as of this writing, 80 items on it--it gives them plenty of options. Still, I must admit feeling self-conscious about dropping that link in an email and sending it to those most likely to buy me something, or about even mentioning its existence here, much less linking to it.
The wishlist--and the direction of my friends to it--is preferable, though, to the alternative: dear friend gives shiny gifty, hoping to delight; dear friend finds out that I already have whatever they took the time and consideration to give me; dear friend winds up keeping gift or searching for receipt.
It's happened before. I don't want it to happen again.
It's not that my friends and family don't know my interests, likes, dislikes, etc. They know them well. I love watching and reading about movies. I love action figures and lunchboxes. I love Bettie Page.
So there are plenty of things I might actually like or want. The real question my friends and family must ask? "Does he have [insert potential gift here] already?"
This is not an unreasonable question. I probably have more DVDs than your neighborhood Blockbuster (no, really...just ask anybody who's ever been to my apartment) and enough books to populate a small, eclectic library. I'm very much a Taurus--I like to collect shiny objects around me in abundance--and more than once in the recent past, friends have bought birthday or Christmas presents for me, only to find that DVD or book already in my collection.
The solution to this problem? My Amazon wishlist.
I can't claim that I thought of this all by myself; several friends have had wishlists on Amazon for years. It's an interesting peek into the likes/dislikes of someone you know, or presume to know. What, for instance, does it say about me that my wishlist includes The Seven Samurai, Enchanted, Olivier's Hamlet, Attack of 50 Ft. Woman, Do the Right Thing, several episodes of the original Doctor Who series (as well as seasons two and three of the current series) and a book about Mego action figures? I don't know. That's for any individual reader of the list to decide.
Even though such a list would seem to limit the choices my friends can make and would seem to limit the amount of surprise I can have--even if the wishlist has, as of this writing, 80 items on it--it gives them plenty of options. Still, I must admit feeling self-conscious about dropping that link in an email and sending it to those most likely to buy me something, or about even mentioning its existence here, much less linking to it.
The wishlist--and the direction of my friends to it--is preferable, though, to the alternative: dear friend gives shiny gifty, hoping to delight; dear friend finds out that I already have whatever they took the time and consideration to give me; dear friend winds up keeping gift or searching for receipt.
It's happened before. I don't want it to happen again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
