my birthday

I wake up early to go to a BAFTA Board meeting.

I put on my Nike Fuel Band and it flashes the words, "Happy birthday."

As the meeting is closing, the charming and wonderful chairman says, "And in case you didn't know, today is Lyn's birthday." We're Facebook Friends so he was probably alerted. So sweet that he made the announcement.

I come home to texts, phone messages and emails. You expect family and friends to remember but it's still nice when they do.

I get a couple of cards in the mail, and a couple of electronic cards.

I go on Facebook and like a little kid opening presents, I smile widely as I read the many birthday messages I've been sent. Some from people I haven't seen or spoken to in decades. It's heartwarming to know that even for a few seconds, so many have stopped what they were doing to wish me a happy birthday. It is the absolute best thing about Facebook.

I hear from people in cities where I once lived; from jobs where I once worked; schools that I once attended; schools that my son once attended (including the principal of one); classmates from the town where I grew up; people I've never met but who know me through my blog; an actor I met while he was performing in a play I attended; friends I've met through my sisters; children of friends of my sisters; my mom's friends; people in television I met through industry events or job interviews; weight-watcher buddies from years ago; my best friend growing up; current friends; family; Cape Cod friends; past lovers, including my first; BAFTA colleagues; and more.

I see a voicemail on my phone from the Bahamas. I don't bother listening until hours later, assuming it's some telemarketer trying to induce me to buy a condo there. But no. It's from an old boyfriend who's buying a boat there, and took out time to call and wish me a happy birthday.

All the good wishes and kind messages make me feel immensely lucky.

I have no plans for today and that is just fine.  I celebrated last night, and have dinner plans with friends for the 30th.

I buy a cooked duck breast for dinner at Butterfields — to go with a can't-put-down book called The Marriage Lie (by Kimberly Belle). I am healthy and feel much younger than the calendar says I am. I have friends I couldn't live without. A family I'm proud to be part of. I live in the best city in the world. And my son says he's coming home this weekend.

Yup, it's a very nice birthday.