As of today, and for the next year, I am officially The Answer to life, the universe, and everything. I’ve suggested to my children that they can begin calling me “The Answer” immediately. Or, if they prefer, they can go with “She Who Must Be Obeyed.”
My son tells me that it’s good that I’m now an even number, rather than odd. I minded my birthday a lot last year, and, thinking about it numerically, I wonder if it’s because I was a prime number? Oh, it sounds good — “prime,” and all that — but primes are lonely things to be. This year I have lots of factors. And even numbers sound smooth, well rounded, and warm.
I gave myself a gift: a new piece of body art in the shape of a lovely semi-abstract flaming chalice, on the outside of my right ankle:
(If you live in the Louisville area and you want a tattoo done by an artist, not just some guy with a needle, go see Grapes.)
It’s a beautiful day, I’ve got at least half my life left to live, and I’m extremely happy to be here. It’s good to be The Answer.