"I was born...the day they shot John Lennon's brain..."

Well, I was. Technically. I was born 9PM December 7th, Hawaiian standard time, which means it would have been 2, 3 am EST on the 8th. Not that it's relevant-I find it still pretty damn sad and think he was one of the biggest losses to the music world.

I had a pretty great birthday (at least up until the end), got lots of neat and useful presents and Michael took me out to lunch. My birthday was soured by the fact I had to finish my project for my last class which consists of a paper and a DVD mini-doc. I hit "Burn DVD" to complete it when the computer froze. It wasn't until after I had rebooted the computer that I realized, at 11PM, that I had forgotten to save it. I had to reedit everything from scratch.

So I talked to my G last night and she asked me how my birthday went:

Me: It was ok, up until the end.
G: (half-shouting, but that's her normal talking voice) Why? Were you drinking?
Me: No, G.
G: (half-shouting, but that's her normal talking voice) Oh. Well, I thought maybe you were drinking and you spent all night throwing up.
Me: No, I had to work on a paper.

I can feel the love. Truly.

Maddybug is currently not feeling well. She is running a high fever and seems lethargic. I think it is a reaction to a flu shot she got, but I still feel bad for her.