Thirty-Ten

If the French can get away with calling "eighty" quatre-vingts (i.e., four twenties), then I damn well can call this my thirty-tenth birthday. I'm heading out early today--might try to catch Myshkin tonight at the Red Dragon Listening Room (if there are any tickets left) and there's a good chance I'll drop by one of several places where I've been known to imbibe (am leaning, no pun intended, towards the Tsunami on the top floor of the new arts center downtown).

Anyway--they say life begins at...ah, the hell with that. Let's see how I feel tomorrow...