I start the day on my scale. 130.6 Three pounds less and I'd be happy. I'm the same weight I was a year ago. I 'suppose that's good, but even then I wanted to lose three pounds. Obviously I'm just saying the words and doing nothing about it.
I love all the Facebook messages. Some from people I barely know (such as an actor I saw in a play, liked his performance, then friended him). A distant relative I haven't spoken to in ages. Someone from India who keeps trying to friend me. High school friends, some of whom I knew well, and some I barely knew at all. College friends. Chicago friends. Ex-work colleagues. Current friends. Current colleagues. Original weight-watcher buddies. Past boyfriends. And everyone in-between. It's nice to be remembered.
I go to get my hair colored with Lyo. She is normally not in on Mondays but came in because it's my birthday. And then, when I arrive, she hands me a gift. A hair fragrance mist from Fekkai (that adds shine and frizz control). In all my years of going to hair stylists, no one has ever given me a gift. I am truly touched by her thoughtfulness.
My son calls twice and both times talks to me as if he wants to. I ask him for three gifts: that he graduate on time; that he tries really hard to get a job before he comes home; and that he answers my phone calls without my having to text him first. He assures me of the first; says he'll try really hard to accomplish the second; and is the least certain of the third. I'd be happy with two out of three.
I meet Valerie, Abbey and Adam for dinner at Wolfgang's. I think Adam is right when he says they have the best steaks in the city. And perhaps the best tuna tartars as well. And the strongest Cosmopolitans. And the loudest people. But even the last doesn't detract from a warm and wonderful birthday celebration.
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