Another year older . . .

Not so much with the wiser, sadly, since I'm sitting here stuffed with birthday cake and birthday chocolate from darling husband and birthday cookies from the hilarious cookies-shaped-like cosmo glasses bouquet my friend Beverly sent me. I'd be stressed out about all this sugar, except the wonderful stress-relief gifts my friend Barb sent are putting me into a blissed-out coma.

Deadline? What deadline?

The problem with birthdays when you have a five year old daughter is that she can't quite wrap her little diva mind around the concept that: 1. there are presents, but 2. they are not for her. It was a little touch and go yesterday, on the actual birthday. Luckily, chocolate cake is a great distraction.

This evening, they're both excited beyond all possible imagining, since they get to stay up till midnight to pick Daddy up from the airport. (Well, I have to drive.) I'm trying to stay caffeinated enough to last that long and also get some work done on SEVEN WAYS TO LOSE YOUR LOVER, which is due the end of this month. It's a fun book to write, though - any book that stars 64 cases of purple passionfruit body oil can't be bad.