Let the festivities begin. . . and let them begin with a new wardrobe

Let the festivities begin! Birthday 2006 has already begun. (I know I should be coy here and pretend that I am not that into my own birthday, that it snuck up on me and is no big deal. I come from a long line of present-opening, birthday-candle-blowing, envelope-ripping celebrators, so it's genetic and I cannot deny my heritage. I should clarify that I love birthdays in general. Love buying birthday cards. Love buying birthday gifts. It's just that I love mine even more.)

We tend to start our celebrating a little early around these parts and by this I mean that we try to stretch this thing out as long as we possibly can.

Cynical got things off to a good start by kinda giving me a gift early: today he stole my car and is having keyless entry installed. (I suspect this is as much for him as for me, he seems to think I am living in the Dark Ages, using something as primitive as a key to unlock my car.)

And, today for lunch, my work buddies are taking me to gorge on Mexican food. Conflicting schedules meant we had to get this party started a few days before the actual event, but who am I to complain. Mexican food, my bestest buddies and lots of rain: sounds like more fun than we can handle.

There are a few glitches in this early start. I was scrambling this morning to get stuff out of my car (a rolling closet/filing cabinet), trying to stay dry during a torrential downpour while doing so and realizing that I had nothing worth wearing in my closet.

(Oh, upon first glance there is a lot of stuff in there, but when you dig in a little deeper, you realize, yep, there's nothing presentable to be found. If I was going to an all day concert: I got the clothes. If I was going camping deep in the woods: I got the right outfit. Otherwise, there is nothing remotely considered appropriate work attire these days. What was I thinking when I made these purchases?)

I tried to revive my favorite chocolate brown shirt, but alas, it's seen better days and I suspect should see the bottom of a box on its way to Goodwill soon. I thought these pants were flattering, but again I thought wrong. Let's not even talk about my hair. So, I am not at my best today, not even at retired librarian level, more like: she got dressed with her eyes closed or Cynical picked out that ensemble.

So, I confessed my distaste via e-mail with my favorite co-worker and confidant. She, as always, was supportive and annoyed.

Ragged: I want to go home.

Co-worker: Why?

Ragged: I look hideous and need to hide.

Co-worker: Oh, you are so cute. Quit it.

Ragged: Cute is not a word to describe me. Take a closer look.

Co-worker: Shut up.