For 35 more minutes it will be the first day of my 28th year.

And it's been a great day.

A strange year, but a great day.

I failed to email you updates about how many days until my birthday (i try to start in February or March with the countdown). I also failed (as my father still wondered at today) to send out my birthday list which i try to publish by at least March (April if i'm really behind).

But none of that happened this year. Between the job and the house and the choas of "truly adult, non-student life), I lost interest in that. (That being "myself.")

But listen to what did catch my interest.

Marcus Borg, Joan Chittister and John Dominic Crossan.

And I spent I my 28th birthday listening to them lecture and fraternizing with them at dinner. (Yep, they know my name). My friends think I'm kind of a nerd, but I think it makes for a great birthday to spend it with world-renowned scholars. Always have.

My mother I hear isn't taking my birthday quite as well.

My dad came home to find her laying on the bed.

"What are you doing?"
"I'm tired."
"What's wrong?"
"I had a baby 28 years ago."

Classic Crazy Carol.

And a classis birthday. One I'll always remember, even if mom's pre-occupied with the first.