"A Problem Page For All!"

I had the most delightful birthday! I wanted it low-key, so we just had dinner and cake (chocolate decadance torte, actually, with semi-sweet chocolate and kaluha and pecans) and Cherie and I opened presents together -- her 45th birthday is on Sunday, so we combined celebrations -- and watched DVDs of CSI: Las Vegas and The Vicar of Dibley. Nana and Grandpa called and sang Happy Birthday to me over the phone, like they always do, and then had a brief conversation with me as if I was an actual human being, rather than an odd genetic specimen linked to them via their DNA, which made me feel nice.

I got some lovely presents. Ellie sent me a little parcel, which I loved, and some pen pals sent cards, and my pen pal Heather sent a book of knitting patterns, and my family gave me some CDs and beautiful tights and chemical-free lipstick and stationery and a Sandra Bullock video and about 20 or 30 buttons/pins with political slogans ("There can be no free men until there are free women," "We won't go back," "Well behaved women rarely make history," "Out is in," "I'm too poor to vote Republican"...etc.), and some other splendid stuff.

I don't like being 19. I feel unsettled and confused about the age -- unable to categorize it, to compare it with anything, to find a fragile toehold. But I'll manage (only 361 1/2 days left!), and I think this was the best birthday I've had in a long time. I'm listening to one of the CDs -- Nightwish's Oceanborn and it's just beautiful music. I feel so happy to be me, in my life, and the number of the years I've lived is really irrelevant. 19 may make me uneasy, but my life does not.

Thank you for your birthday wishes! I turned a pretty shade of pink when you said I've become a "glorious creature." You know exactly how to compliment me!