Back at Last

Today tastes like heavily salted butter, lemons, and lipstick. I'm just glad it's the weekend.

Last night was Vincenza's birthday. She had decided she didn't want to get any older. I told her the options (you got your classic method where you cease to move through time--or space for that matter; and you got your modern method where you ignore the event completely--no cake, no party, no additional year.) She wasn't too happy about either.

Then Mischief and I put our heads together and decided to throw her a party at a hot-dog place. With helium balloons so we could all sing "The Lollipop Guild" at the end of the night, an Elmo tablecloth, and an ice cream cake.

We grabbed a table outside and proceeded to fingerpaint the town red. Vinnie decided she was four this year. Next year she wants to be seven. I suggested that she be 21 in 2007 so we could do a pub crawl or martini tasting.

Met with Terpsichore last week, and she's delighted with the new project. I really ought to sign off and write the pattern.

More later. I was going to do a riff on settling and priorities and the varied costs of both, but right now I don't have the stamina.