27. Twenty-freakin-seven. You know, 26 was a stretch, but as you turn the final corner to 27 you can't help but feel it's all down-hill from here. You're not a witty twenty-something anymore, you're just washed up. An unaccomplished, "had the spark of greatness" failure. Or maybe... I set the bar too high for myself. Maybe not. Either way, right now all I feel that can save me down the stretch is a healthy dose of hemlock right after I squeeze the last bit of quirky talent from my addled brain into something truly worth seeing or reading. Feh. Happy birthday to me.

I've got to start being way more selective about my projects. And much better about tapping my extended network of affiliates. I'm taking on too much—especially during a period where I'm feeling less than perfect—and becoming the one thing I've always been critical of in others: unreliable.

Yup, I feel an "I'm sorry but no, we can't accommodate your project at this time, perhaps you'd like to be referred to one of our affiliates?" coming on very soon...

Is that it's Christel's birthday, and hopefully I can bring a smile to her face. Given the events of yesterday it's a stretch, but it'll be worth it.

I especially like the ones where she doesn't want to smile, but either by charm or cuteness, I get her to anyway. Those... well those are wonderful.

I'd gamble she's fond of them too. Even if she still wants to do grievous harm to my naughty bits at the time.

If you're reading this, I love you. You're going to love your present(s)—hopefully so much you'll overlook the cake and candles...

is shaping up to suck. My fault indeed, but I couldn't have played it any other way. No matter what the timestream shows me.

"Even if doing your best isn't enough, take solace in that it was still your best. And when you learn how to do that, write a book. I'll pre-order it." I don't know who said that but... wait, oh yes, it was me. It just happened. Damn that pesky timestream.

I feel as if I am tumbling through the looking glass—and I can barely keep my lunch down. Hi Alice.

This would be a lot more fun if it was chemically induced. Indeed.

"...it's full of stars!"