I didn’t intend to write today, or about this topic, but it seemed like destiny…

Socks Are Jerks

This is our third year living in a two-story house. It’s also the third year that I’ve managed to fall down the stairs as soon as the weather starts to turn cold as I re-learn how to wear socks. The kick-off for the 2015 annual event was yesterday.

I bounded up the stairs to continue cleaning my bathroom  and remembered the laundry basket of clean clothes I intended to carry up with me. I turned to go back down (up isn’t usually the problem in regard to falling) and slipped or missed a step or my feet tried to do pirouette without my permission. I’m never really sure. I slid down on my right side thinking That’s new. It’s usually my left foot that betrays me.

Between saying “ouch” out loud a few times I tumbled/slid back down to the first floor one step at a time. Thankfully, the stairs are carpeted and I hadn’t made my way up too far. I only crashed my backside into four semi-padded steps.

I landed on my back with my left leg sprawled in front of the coat closet. I gave into the position and gingerly spread my right leg out and said another “ouch” out loud for good measure.

I lied there assessing the pain and imagining what the bruise forming under my sweat pants would look like. Mostly rug burn? All purple? Any swelling? It’s the mother training. I softly touched the outside of my right thigh through the cotton. Yep, going to be a bruise. I flopped my arms out and stared at the ceiling.

“Happy birthday to me.”

Big Brother Google

I turned 45 on Monday. Besides my insurance agent and a half dozen store memberships that knew my birth date, apparently Google gets in on the act.

I logged on to my laptop with Google as the homepage and stupidly thought Wow! I wonder what famous person’s birthday is today? Google has changed to cupcakes!

Then I wised up and realized it’s well past 1984 and did what we all do with Google, hovered the cursor:

Birthday Google
A personalized happy birthday greeting? What kind of sorcery is this?
I’m trying to figure out how or what was accessed and when I signed off that it was okay for Google to freak me out on my day of birth. It’s bad enough that LensCrafters sends me birthday greetings with coupons showing people with huge bug eyes. I’ve only shopped there once.

It’s All in the Family

My birthday weekend was good fun, despite falling and being Google creeped. I had breakfast twice, ate cookies, saw family and friends, played a couple of board games, and finished a book I was reading. I also was able to see Whoopie Goldberg do stand up on Friday night (it was her birthday, by the way), thanks to some friends with extra tickets who thought of us. Pretty good weekend.

And that’s all in the past.

Today is my daughter’s birthday! She’s nineteen.

(She wanted to eat BBQ for her birthday. Of course. See previous Asperger related posts.)

Her due date was Whoopie’s birthday, November 13th. When she missed that date I told her she could just wait until after my birthday, for her sake. (Can you imagine having the same birth date as your mother?) She waited until the next morning and arrived at 11:10 am. Good enough. We’re still both Scorpios, which means the rest of the family are the ones who suffer.

Happy birthday to all the other November babies out there! Here’s a cake with a few candles.