Today is my birthday.
And what a weird thing that is. 364 days of the year, I breathe, plan, consume, sleep, perseverate (that's a favorite), and well live. But today is the day that I took my first breath on this planet.
Oddly enough, at the exact time of my birth, my dog bit me finger. However ironic, it was an accident. She didn't break the skin or even leave a bruise. Maybe it was a kind of cosmic reminder that with every birth comes a little pain. Or maybe it was a mistake.
If I was a Hollywood producer, I would probably use it in a movie as some deep message from the divine. Critics would decipher this meaning - "what does the dog bite mean for the upcoming year?" But I am not and it was just an early morning mistake.
When I was a child, I would ask for "World Peace" as a birthday present because my father was a firm supporter of the Vietnam war. That never went over well. Now I ask for music or simply a visit. I think my 7 year old niece wrote me a story.
Tonight I'll get together with my friends at a local taco joint. That is if I remember to tell them. Uh, hey guys, we going for drinks! Tonight!
Happy freakin' birthday to me!