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September 6, 2002
Happy birthday to me,
happy birthday to me,
happy birthday dear me-ee,
happy birthday to me.

Ahem.

Now that I've regained my compsure...

It's been a decently nice day outside the disconnection letter from my telephone company. "Pay this amount now, or you'll sleep wit da fishes." Okay, they're not that bad. Many birthday greetings spread throughout the day, a Hawking book for a prezzie, and grandma's homemade stew. Mm-mm good. The trouble with birthdays is that you then have to remember a different number every time someone asks you how old you are now. This was disjoined, wasn't it?