Party, party, party!

And it is, too! In a stunning bit of irony, the universe decreed that I, whose father was an accountant, should have a birthday that fell on April 15th. Good thing Dad wasn't a CPA busy with other people's taxes. He worked for the state. Plus, I was born on a Sunday, so everyone had one extra day to get their 1040 forms filled out.

For all those "teabaggers" out there protesting my birthday, I give you Paul Begala's essay on patriotism. So there. Schools, roads, and the rights we claim when we shout, "I have my rights!" don't come free, yanno. Now settle down and have some cake with your tea, and let's not forget that the original tea party was about taxation without representation, so if you don't see the irony in notifying your representative about how you don't want to pay taxes, you're not half looking.

I've got reservations for the new French restaurant in town this evening. It's the only French restaurant in town, as a matter of fact, which means the last time I ate at a French restaurant was on my one and only trip to France about ten years ago. We'll see if this one compares. The DH has been giving hints about really good presents to follow.

Speaking of birthdays, the baby for whom I knit Pondemonium made her way into the world yesterday. There will be pictures, I am sure!

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