Celebrated my 38th birthday recently. Huge stepping stone and one that is nearing towards the 50th mark. But that's fine, we've all gotta get older sometime. And not really having a choice in the matter: I don't want to grow up. Much like writing my stories, I don't have a choice in the matter there either. Nope. Uh-uh. The ideas seem to haunt me if they stay inside of my skull too long.
My birthday consisted of drinking way too much and tossing my cookies afterwards. No fun at all.
Tasty drinks, though.