Happy Birthday to Me!

I'm sitting at home, amid half-packed boxes and piles of paper, worrying about developing cankles.

One foot on the banana peel that acts as catalyst for sliding down the slippery slope towards 40, I actually feel pretty young and vital. Hector, the IT guy at my work, refuses to believe I am older than him (he's 25). I have a pretty swanky life, full of great friends, awesomely insane family and the superfly-ingest boyfriend, ever. It's a good life, and I'm just getting wound up.

So Happy Birthday to Me — and Star Jones, Allyson Hannigan, the late Steve McQueen, and the late-and-soon-to-be-exhumed Harry Houdini.

I think tonight we break open the Veuve...