Birthday

Yup. Today was another birthday.

We went all out with the birthday today, mostly for Sophia, who is very into the idea of birthdays. She and Daddy went to get me a cake. She helped Daddy wrap some gifts for me. She wished me a happy birthday over and over again, and informed me (as she does several times a week) that when it’s her next birthday, she’ll be four. In case I was in danger of forgetting that little fact.

Darin’s brothers and their girlfriends came over. The eight of us (six adults, two kidlets) went to the Fiesta de Artes in downtown Los Gatos. Most towns have an Art and Wine festival; Los Gatos has a Fiesta de Artes. I guess the Vino is simply implied.

The kids slept through the entire thing in their strollers. Wouldn’t that be great? Have a litter borne by servants take you everywhere? Remind me to add that to my list of “Stuff I want when I’m filthy rich and can have anything.”

Rob Petrie joined us after the Fiesta. His wife, Laura, was off at her grandmother’s 90th birthday party. And no, their last name isn’t really Petrie, but they are Rob and Laura, which is how we came up with that nickname.

We had dinner (Chinese), and we finally got to the important part of the day: cake! Sophia insisted on putting the candles on the cake—she wanted to put five. (Because, clearly, no one can be older than five.) She sang in on “Happy Birthday,” which was especially great because for the longest time Sophia hated that song and would run away when it was time to sing it at someone’s birthday.

And of course she helped me open presents, which included both the “Once More With Feeling” CD and an iPod! So I can listen to books or music on the treadmill! (Not that I’m actually expecting to get to a treadmill again, but if it happens, great!) I have never listened to books on tape before, but I am actually looking forward to the experience.

Simon, who has eaten very little since he started battling a fever Thursday night, grunted and pointed at our plates of cake until I gave him some. For a guy who doesn’t talk much, he sure is a damn fine communicator.

Our guests went home and we got the kids to bed. Darin fell asleep beside me as I was playing “Tropico” on my Powerbook, so I went downstairs, where I proceeded to write these entries, send e-mail to Josh Marshall with a question I’ve had about recent political events, and nod my head in resigned agreement with Jeanne D’Arc’s essay about outrage fatigue. I mean, Christ, I live in California, where the governorship of the state is being treated like it’s the fucking prize on Star Search. (“Tonight on FOX: Who Wants To Be California’s Governor? One vote per viewer, please. No, tee hee, just kidding.”)

You know, we had an election last year. I hate Gray Davis. I hate him so much I refer to him as “Pete” without even realizing I’m doing it. But you know what? He won. And boy, the Republicans won’t stop at anything, will they?

(Breathe. Breathe. It’s too late at night to start working yourself up over this. Breathe.)

Anyhow. I hope Simon is feeling better tomorrow. I hope you are having a nice quiet evening in your home. And if you feel the need to send me birthday greetings, presents, or cash, please feel free.