Happy Birthday to Meeeee.......

I haven't posted for a while because I (blush) misplaced the sheet of paper that had my user name and password for blogger on it. Yeah, I know, you're not supposed to write them down, but geez, even if I basically use the same ones most of the time, there are those sites (like the bank) that makes you change passwords every 60 days or whatever, or the ones that require you use "three out of four of the following: !#$^*^, lower case letters, upper case letters, and/or numbers" and must be 8 characters or more long. Like I'm going to remember that? I'm lucky if I remember where I left my car keys. And it makes me feel even more feeble minded if I have to email a site to get them to tell me my password. I have the list now, taped to my desk for all the world (not really) to see, and if I get my bifocals lined up just so, I too can see it.

Speaking of losing my mind and using bifocals, today is my birthday. I'm ____ today (fill in as you think appropriate). Hub has baked a cake and is fixing dinner, son and daughter brought home flowers yesterday, and last Sunday I got a new computer (an HP pavilion). Tomorrow I'm off to the spa for a massage and then get my hair done. All in all, a very satisfactory b-day arrangement. Especially since I've noticed that over time, I am slowly morphing into (say it isn't so!) my mother. I see her face in the mirror now, and I hear her voice coming out of my mouth, saying things like "back in the day..." and arguing with the hub about what other movie or TV show we saw that actor on. I truly believe there are only 50 actors and actresses in Hollywood, outside of the big stars, and they are endlessly recycled in show after show. For instance, I watch Law and Order on TNT (all the old ones, on every night) and the same actors will be the victim one show, the "perp" the next, and a lawyer the episode after that. You truly can't tell the players without a program. But I digress... I can remember my folks trying, when we were kids, to explain who some old-timey celebrity was, and we would roll our eyes and shake our heads as they labored to describe Charleton Heston or Jack Lemmon or whoever. Now I do that, trying to tell my kids (in their 20s) about Paul Newman and Robert Redford. If they've not seen Butch Cassidy, forget it. Barbra Striesand? Lucille Ball? Forget it.

Ah well, can't really complain about getting old, the alternative is so much worse.

Peace.