point five.

attn: my birthday is in March.
the 29th, actually. if it weren't my birthday month, I might positively have a difficult time getting along with March.  She's so self-important, isn't she, thinking she brings us springtime and that consequently we adore her, while in reality she's mostly muddy and moody and no fun at all.  Why, she's a regular Mag Wildwood. "She's a model, believe it or not, and a thumping bore."

back to point:
last week I was roaming a museum with a friend - a friend who shares my March 29th birthday, in fact!
and we said,
who decided to celebrate merely once a year!
that's oppression, we say!
societal tyranny, we say!

So here's a tip:
when you recognize that you have fallen victim to jubilee-crushing cultural norms,
you simply must revolt. it's a civic duty!
so you go to the farmers' market
and you buy fresh raspberries.
(because nothing says "rebellion with a celebratory flair" like splurging on raspberries)
and you make a regular Martha Stewart of yourself.

well, that was my part. 
my fellow 3/29 crew member grilled the steaks and surprised me with a miniature sketch of a painting. a favorite from the museum, actually.
so that was rather worth whipping up some frosting for. 

we made a delightful half-birthday out of that Sunday by throwing tomatoes at fences, discussing the psychology of affirmative action, taking pictures in front of the mural he painted, and cavorting in other such celebratory-type activities.

so here's to half-birthdays, half-cakes, and artists. 

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