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I said it's my birthday

Yes, it's that day of the year again, when I put on the birthday hat. This year, someone got the idea that my birthday was earlier this week, & said something on Facebook, so that special excitement started pouring in early. Which was a little embarrassing, even for me, who loves my birthday beyond reason.

And others' too, almost as much. As I've said before, birthdays are the ultimate in democratic fairness—everyone gets one, no one can be so rich that they can get an extra or buy a better date, and no one can be so poor that they have to sell theirs. Although come to think of it, maybe there's a market for secondhand birthdays? Not that I would sell February 18 for any date on the calendar, even while I recognize how profoundly desirable it would be.

I feel old & I feel not old at all. When I think of the number, it seems shockingly old, but when I think of me, I just feel like me. That's time for you, I guess.

I love that it's always my birthday today, February 18, and Mark's tomorrow. That I will always be exactly one day older than him, till the end of our days.
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