They Did Indeed Say it Was My Birthday

On turning 29 delightfully:
*Take Friday before birthday off to ensure one is well rested for festivities to come. Spend day at the Spy Museum with my friend in from Atlanta. We attempted to crawl through the ductwork, but halfway through determined we are not cut out for espionage. If you haven't visited the museum, you must. Even though it costs 15 clams, it kicketh copious tail.
*Spend Friday night ringing in the impending birthday with four sorority sisters and beer--lots and lots of it--at Gazuza and The Big Hunt. Decide it's time to call it a night Sunday morning when the camera ends up floating in a pint.
*Wake Saturday and promptly showered with gifts by significant other. Always an excellent gift giver, he opted this year to enable my growing golf obsession. A bit later, my mother and father arrived bearing home supplies from Costco (it's the best delivery service 'cuz you don't even necessarily have to pay the bill right away) and the fixings for a delicious breakfast.
*Wile away a beautiful afternoon at the National Books Festival.
*End with romantic late-night dinner at Hank's, sucking down Blue Points, polenta with parmesan, and champagne. Because it's not a great birthday until you've contracted gout. Stop into Kramerbooks and get John Hodgman's The Areas of My Expertise. Start giggling before even making it past the cover.

P.S.-Oh and a special birthday thank you to Mark Foley, who gave the gift that keeps on giving: Republican scandal, A1.