Birthday of Significance

My first half-century birthday was marked, among other happy things, by the presentation at dinner of a salad and dessert, each of which resembled sculptures that might be seen at the Museum of Modern Art. Sadly, neither sculpture survives. I also enjoyed some free and unencumbered time at Borders, where my purchases included The Redneck Manifesto by Jim Goad, The Sun Magazine, the latest Garden & Gun Magazine (my subscription has lapsed, and I must send in that little card), Bitch Magazine, and Fashion Doll Quarterly. I am toying with those marketing analysis geeks ("people who bought FDQ also purchased..."). I enjoyed a yummy lunch at Dioli's Italian Market with Lo-rida, and of course we had tiramisu. Rounding out this day of resplendent calories and literary splurges was some retail shoe therapy. A happy pair of comfy clogs along with a sweet pair of black suede Anne Klein high heels join the Imelda Shrine behind my closet door. While I present to the world a fifty-year-old face that exudes normalcy, this shoe purchase confirms a deep-seated schizophrenia that will likely get worse in the upcoming half century.