Happy Birthday, Flaming Curmudgeon

49 and still kicking and still kvetching. Happily sipping coffee with Coffeemate® coffee creamer for that velvety smooth creamy flavor! from my Kahi Mohala – A Psychiatric Hospital coffee mug, a treasured gift from my theatrical days. Well, I guess my days can still be considered to be “theatrical” so I suppose I should say “my days in the theatre.” If I may be so bold and so restrospectful. Somehow magically my evil dark stormy mood of the last month has blown away by some mystical zephyr and I feel once again whole. All it took was a great haircut which I thought would never happen and the spending of good ole yankee dollars on some gay and festive weighty bars of expensive soaps. You know of my fetishes. Okay, maybe the xanax and Imodium® helped things along. Maybe the weather and taking off from work a Friday afternoon to seek out and procure the mystical magical haircut. Maybe the continued kneadings and manipulations of Sam, the physical therapist, on my tender, unforgiving spine. Nevertheless, the zephyr, however aided by synthetic machinations, blew away the cloud of my folly. And I awake on my birthday with no fears or anxiety. Two packages from dear friends await to be opened. Last night, a dear friend with infinite patience took me to out to a delightful dinner at Ten Zan which just opened up the street and we gorged ourselves on sushi and had a most amazing dessert. And I have decided to treat myself to two Broadway shows today. A matinée of the revival of Sunday in the Park with George at Studio 54 and then this evening Alfred Hitchcock’s The 39 Steps. I have discount coupons from my Playbill.com membership.  Somehow I shall finagle my constraining budget to allow this folly. Amen.