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I had a lot I wanted to post this weekend. But I came to the conclusion that it was far too boring. So you get this instead. It is far too boring as well, but there you go.

It is approximately 5 hours from the day of my birth. I have mixed feelings about that. I won’t go into it.

I will, however, tell a random story:

In the middle of the night, some 27 years ago, my mother’s water broke. She rolled over and shook my father awake. He groggily woke up and asked what was going on. My mom told him the situation.

He said, “I’ll call a cab.” and rolled over and went back to sleep.

To his credit, one second later he realized what she had said, bolted upright and ran to get dressed.

I was born approximately 12 hours later.

So I like to keep my birthdays low-key. I’m a rather private person in general, and just tend to downplay it. So no big celebration or anything tomorrow.

But tonight, I had dinner with mom and her friends at El Meson, a Latin American restaurant a few blocks from my apartment.

If you live in the Twin Cities, go to El Meson. 35th and Lyndale Ave South. So tasty.

So tomorrow I get Amanda. Amanda emailed me to invite herself over for my birthday. Man, she’s a cool cat. And a shmoo. She really is. Have I mentioned that she has an audio recording at the Light Rail stations?

So, in other news: I have my laptop on the couch and my phone on the TV table. When I want to connect to the internet I have to move the phone cord from phone to laptop. And every single time, Ramona freaks. If she’s on the couch she frantically runs away. And I can’t figure out why.

That’s all I got. Carry on.

It’s my birthday. Go Claire, it’s my birthday.