It's my birthday!
Not really. It's tomorrow. But the email from my father (a) informed me that he didn't know the date of my birth, and (b) confused me - so all morning whenever something unfavorable happened to me I'd think "Of course this happens to me on my birthday." We're off to a good start.
But here's the deal. My refined goal, is to somehow make these fans and this blog get me a house in the Hamptons. Or even more specifically, a piece of property that Kelly Ben Simon does or would own. I'm not making this goal a short term goal. This is a long term goal. Meaning at least 3 weeks.
This birthday coming up (the real one is tomorrow) is making me think about life. In all fairness, I am pretty much always thinking about life. Why just three weeks ago I was taking a walk in the middle of the day (I do that) and I stopped dead in my tracks on 71st and West End because I realized that thousands and thousands of people had to have sex for me to be alive. Like, thousands. And then I was thinking back to all of my ancestors having sex. In all different places. In all different ways. Some with lanterns. Some really mad at their husbands. Some just in from a hard day on the field, taking a nap and not even knowing they were getting plowed themselves. And then random monkeys too. Before we turned into fur-less tool users.
And then I realized that there's a green box on the corner of every street that thunks every time a street light changes. There really is. You don' even notice it but it's there.
Point being - I know that all multi-millionaires have two things: a blog and twitter. So I got a blog and twitter. And those multi-millionaires have lots of readers and lots of followers. So I need to get those too, if I'm really going to make this house a reality. Right now I have 37 followers on twitter and 0 people subscribed to my blog but thousands of horny catholic ancestors who are counting on me.
These battery operated hand held personal fans are my ticket, I think. I figured I'd take all of my birthday money and buy the first batch of fans, but then I remembered that I was turning 25, not 12, and there is no birthday money anymore. Just emails from people on the wrong day, which are so convincing you get all turned around.
More to come.