Today is my birthday, and for no related reason, I am awake very early. I had lunch with my parents and sister yesterday in the Upper West Side, at a Mexican restaurant named Gabriella's. I enjoyed it very much, but even more than that, I managed to become an official New Yorker. Yes, I got an Ipod (mini.) So far, I've loaded all my music on it, and it sits in my bag right now. I have never before been so excited to walk somewhere, as I can now do it to a soundtrack.
I always really enjoy my birthday, but I'm not sure why. The whole premise of celebrating birthdays is kind of silly--what exactly are you rejoicing for, not dying? Why do you get gifts on your birthday? It seems strangely divorced from logic.
In fact, I think you should be buying me presents all the time
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