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Happy 46th birthday to my wonderful husband, Robin Riggs! Rob shares a birthday with at least two other comics folks we know, Leonard Kirk (with whom he partnered for over 4 years on Supergirl back when it was being written by Peter David, whose youngest daughter Caroline celebrated her 5th birthday yesterday) and Paul Jenkins. I think there's a fourth comics industry luminary with a 6 December birthday but I can't remember who it is (Tom Spurgeon lists Frank Springer and Claire Wendling as also having their birthdays on this date, but I'm pretty sure someone else does as well). It's also the 71st birthday of The Firesign Theatre's David Ossman, whom I've been proud to know for the last quarter century or so; I hope the recent flooding in WA isn't affecting Whidbey Island that much by today.

I was born 50 years ago, this very day.

I wanted to give a party to celebrate my half-century mark. But I wanted a party last year too, and the only person who answered my invitation affirmatively was Leah, who wound up not being able to come because she was in hospital. She was in hospital again about a month or so later, and never left.

I wish my Mom and Dad could be with me. But Mom's in Vegas for the winter, as she's been for at least a dozen years, and Dad's somewhere I can't yet go, taken from me and all of us last spring.

I won't even be getting a lousy pizza lunch at work, like we used to do for every employee's birthday, because there's practically nobody left in that office now. Not even me. I'm obligated to go in tomorrow and Tuesday to teach my coworker how to do billing, so he can in turn teach my eventual successor. I was never able to take the first couple days of any month as vacation or personal time because the billing needed to be done. This month will be the last time that ever occurs, now that the job and I have parted ways.

I miss my local blog friends. I haven't seen most of them all year, I no longer get invited to NY blogger gatherings for reasons I've yet to fathom, and because I've been away from Manhattan my social life has dwindled to a trickle.

And my body doesn't feel quite right, like it's still trying to settle in at some plateau. I had a year without a cycle, from October '06 to October '07, then two cycles in a row, and if I were still regular I'd be starting another one about now, so maybe that's why I'm in such achy discomfort. But it could be The Dreaded Lurgy, or it could be the multiple bug bites I seem to have all over from some unknown source (what bugs could possibly be biting in December?). The hip bursitis is more or less under control but I haven't done my exercises in at least a week, and I feel I'm spiralling downward.

So that's the bad news, and you get to listen to it because I'm officially Old now, and old people get to be Grumpy. Times like this I wish I had a lawn so I could tell you kids to get off it.

The good news, of course, is that I have lots of blessings in my life, many of which I enumerate here in my blogiversary post. I don't take for granted one minute that I have a loving husband and partner, two adorable pets whose lives have reached double digits, relative health, a roof over my head and enough money in the bank to tide me over this period of unemployment, family and comic-industry friends and a way to express myself and a connection with all of you. And I have a second interview on Thursday, Robin's 46th birthday, that we both hope will result in cause to celebrate more than just milestones.

So today I'll be updating my checkbook and putting away laundry and talking to Mom and others on the phone and playing with the new digital camera Robin bought me (a Canon PowerShot SD800 IS, for those of you keeping score at home) and reading whilst he works, and maybe after his work day is done we can go out for sushi, if the weather cooperates. Not how I envisaged spending my 50th, but after all it's just another day, we humans are the ones who invest such things with silly subjective significance.

Because what would Hallowe'en be without a big beautiful bright-eyed birthday boy baby beast? Here's the photo from the ComicMix column:



And here he is for his close-up, with his arms wrapped around my neck:



Happy 15th birthday, Datsa!

Insomnia is the perfect time to post something before I try again to fall asleep, as I'll be driving for four hours tomorrow. In England, of course, many folks are waking up just about now. And it's a very special day indeed. This is for Robin's Dad, care of ImageChef:



HB, Dad Riggs. I'm glad you read this blog. Birthday cake generator via Gerard.

The American institution and probably the most famous living Chicagoan turns 95 today, and the Chicago History Museum is celebrating. You lucky locals can get to wish him a happy birthday in person! And Roger Ebert has written a terrific tribute. I always valued Terkel's contributions to the national dialogue, the way he concentrates on the famous and the not-so-famous alike, and makes everyone's stories feel equally valued. He was must-reading in college, and still is.

Happy birthdays to two swell comics gals, Lisa from Sequentially Speaking and the fabulous world-traveler Marie Javins!

This morning my Hyundai Sonata passed 20,000 miles, just as I was approaching the office. I never would have imagined that the two people on whom I relied the most for basic car information (my dad, who bought me the car three years ago, and Leah, who drove Hyundais for years and worked in the auto insurance industry for a long time) would both be gone before 20,000.

It's been another horrid day, due to the combination of an almost 2-hour morning commute (which normally takes me 25-30 minutes when the highways and byways aren't all flooded) and falling very hard flat on my face in the parking lot when I finally got out of the car. Skinned both knees, ripped open some flesh on the outside of my left (dominant) hand, did something to my right big toe but I don't know what because I'm afraid if I remove my sneaker I won't be able to put it back on and I need that foot to drive home. But enough about me. I wanted to give a shout-out to a very special person, Mark Evanier, on the occasion of his birthday. How old he is I cannot say, probably not much older than me. But he wears it extremely well. HB, Mark!!

Happy birthdays to Lauren, Atrios and Elaine's mother.