
Today is the Man's birthday. He's thirty-somethingold. This is the last year he can claim to be in his mid-thirties. He woke up early this morning to go golfing and as he was getting ready to go I found myself thinking how terrific he is and how happy I am that he was born (so very long ago - HA!). Tonight I'll take him out for sushi and drinks (if my hangover has subsided) and I'll smother him with lovings if he lets me. Which he will, because he's good like that.
Other than that stuff, and being surrounded by boxes and bins and dust and donation-piles, I'm basically just sitting around waiting for DieFrau to have her baby. Maybe that baby will share a birthday with the Man... EXCITING!
EDITED TO ADD:
Our delightful director was kind enough to give everyone in the cast a copy of Shakespeare's sonnets. At our cast party we all read from the book, picking sonnets at random. When it came time for the director to read a sonnet aloud, he put the book down and recited his favorite from memory. It was dramatic and wonderful. Can I classify that as bad ass? Because I'd like to. Now I must:
1. Choose a favorite sonnet and
2. Commit that mo-fo to memory
Because damn.
1 comment:
1. I always liked "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun".
2. Baby J will likely be 3_ years and two-three days younger than The Man.
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