Zero!

When GWB got reelected back in 2004, I lamented that I would be 30 by the time he left office. You know, using hyperbole to express just how awful the situation was. And now I am 30. I didn't wake up this morning with any new wrinkles or gray hairs, and I didn't have to start tucking my boobs into the waist of my pants (not yet, anyway).

All in all, an uneventful day.

I started thinking about birthdays past, though. On my 15th birthday, my boyfriend Jesse took me to the Pizza Hut on North Main Street, and he stole a fork. On my 20th birthday, my boyfriend Toban took me to Passage to India in Wichita. No utensils were stolen — I think. My memories of my early 20s are foggy at best. Today, my husband Björn is going to take me to our all-time favorite Indian restuarant here in Frankfurt. He may or may not steal something. Since he has already survived five birthdays with me — unlike any of those who came before him — I think I'll keep him.

I did go and get my hair trimmed at the hairdresser's inside the supermarket down the street this morning. That was €11 well spent. Then I ate a lot of bacon, and then took a nap. The plan was to go to the swimming pool, but thanks to the German weather, it's currently a balmy 65 degrees and cloudy. The Germans. They so crazy.

Oh, and the lovely portrait was done by Erin, who is actually highly educated and happens to like poop jokes. Although, now that I think back, I gave her a diaper with chocolate poop in it for her 12th birthday, and she refused to eat it. She'll be 30 next month; maybe I'll give it another go.