Turned 34 yesterday. Happy Birthday me. Let's take a look back. 1973 Born. Am unbearably cute. Vomited on the doctor. But in a cute way. 1976 Started pre-kindergarten. Am still unbearably cute. With blonde hair. Liked to draw rockets. Rockets are cool. Vomited in the sandbox. 1978 In kindergarten. Drawing more rockets. Learned to read, just to look at the rocket books. Can't really write yet, but my rocket drawings kick ass. 1981 3rd grade. My parents sent me to handwriting analysis on the basis of Vice Principal Berry's recommendation. My handwriting is terrible. She's worried that I'm either a serial killer waiting to happen, or am deliberately copying my father, The Surgeon's, handwriting just to drive her bat-shit crazy. Clearly not living up to my handwriting potential. Think this went into my Permanent Record. 1989 Sophmore in high school. Still can't read my handwriting. Bought an Okidata printer to go with my IBM 286. Never wrote anything by hand again. 2006 Haven't written anything outside of email or Powerpoint in years. Promoted to Director for large international pharmaceuticals company. Bite me, Vice Principal Berry. 2007 Parent-teacher conference for the Critter. Am informed that her handwriting is terrible. Imagine that. Am less troubled by this fact than I think the teacher wants me to be.

Apparently, I'm not making updates this week. In the meantime, go read your Consitution