Birthday bliss

I'm that proverbial kid on Christmas day. First from T: a lovely item from Mulberry, bagged early due to convenient credit card sale. Saphire earrings from Mom and Dad. And from the girls: the 2nd season of Grey's Anatomy DVD set, Alain de Botton's The Architecture of Happiness, (the whopping how could I forget to mention) The Illustrated History of Vogue, 501 Books You Must Read, The Paris Review's Anthology of People With Problems, the hardbound edition of Ruth Reichl's Garlic and Sapphires the secret life of a food critic in disguise, four very pretty necklaces including one designed by an old school chum, a pair of earrings, a votive candle to keep serene for the season. And my dearest sisters in Manila tell me I've got new sleepwear and a new pair of yoga pants with my name on it! PLUS texts and emails from New York City, Chicago and Alabama and Manila and a phone call from Washington DC. Happy happy birthday to me, indeed.

Something odd: Turning 39 has made me feel for the first time in some three or four years, very much really and truly not 40.