Well, I am walking and the swelling is down, but there is still some redness on my ankle. My boss, an NP, feels that I should get seen by my doctor tomorrow if the redness isn't gone (because that will have been 8 days of major antibiotics). Everywhere else is looking good and I am just plague by the itch of healing.

I am also currently stressing because I am afraid that I will not be able to adopt another cat because of this. You have to list your previous pets, etc and I am not sure that this will go over well...

I went to a rescue place this weekend just to window shop, and there were currently plenty of calm, older cats, which I think is what I need after this.

My 30th BD featured a surprise party thrown for me by people in the FAC, who went to great lengths to invite my non-FAC friends and my family, AND to get my ex (who had recently moved 2 hours away) to come to the party.

It was the only surprise party I've ever had, and despite the fact that I'm no longer in the FAC -- and *happy* that I'm no longer in the FAC -- I felt really loved.

And I totally dig my 30s. Love love love. My 20s were mostly lame, and the overwhelming afterimage left by that decade is how I felt really out of step with everyone else my age, because I just wan't interested in the things I was "supposed" to be interested in (i.e., boozing it up at the face-time bars every weekend, fucking boys who -- despite their "adult" jobs -- think they're still in a fraternity, finding a husband who will give me that 2-carat diamond I've always dreamed of).

My 30s are SO much better b/c it finally doesn't matter to me that I don't want any of that crap. No bars, no frat boys, no 2-carat diamond. I always read in magazines that your 20s are for finding out who you are, but my 20s were for trying to be who I thought I should be. My 30s, it seems, have been for finding out who I am. I always was a late bloomer.

And, if I didn't mention, I'll be 35 in **18** days! Plan accordingly.

Sophia, sometimes vet offices are a good place to look for pets.

Last night's Grey's Anatomy was the second rerun in a row that I hadn't seen. And I thought I hadn't missed any this season.

It's good to read that things are at least moving along in the right direction, Sophia, and that your boss is understanding.

plenty of calm, older cats, which I think is what I need after this.

Good luck with that, too.

Teppy, it's funny - I remember your 30th birthday, because one of the first e-mails I dared send a Buffista ever was the "happy birthday" e-card I sent you.

And I totally dig my 30s. Love love love. My 20s were mostly lame, and the overwhelming afterimage left by that decade is how I felt really out of step with everyone else my age,

My sister was angsting about turning 26 recently and feeling like she hadn't done anything with her life, yadda yadda, and I said to her "all I can tell you is my late twenties kicked the ass of my early twenties, and my thirties (so far) are kicking the ass out of my late twenties." As I saw later from some lj posts, it was exactly what she needed to hear (and had the added bonus of being true).

Oooh, as long as we're talking reruns, let me mention that a particularly outstanding Without A Trace is airing this Thursday night (10 PM EST), where the entire story is from the POV of the parents of the missing child, so that you get to see what the story looks like from the "outside."

Oh, and we need a way to factor 17 in, because, well, 17".

Nilly! They've discovered a new penguin species. Well, they knew they were there before, but now they're a whole new species. Which is lovely, because penguins, but it means that the total number of penguin species has risen from 17 to 18. We can blame the French. (I'm sure the Old School penguins still support you in email, though.)

"all I can tell you is my late twenties kicked the ass of my early twenties, and my thirties (so far) are kicking the ass out of my late twenties."

I heard people say that several years ago, and found it comforting.

My 30th was spent in an absolute dive of a bar in Detroit's Cass corridor.

Cass has a corridor?

Oh, very neglectfully forgot to say:

My birthdays subsequent to 31 have been made wonderful by Buffistas.

I developed an allergy to spending them here in the city so the first year I went to Halifax, was hosted by Elena and Brian and the other Haligonistas took me out and got me drunk several times. There are incriminating martini-related photos of us with Susan, Meegan, Meegan's DH, Ouis, Norah and Mecha but since they are Canadian and particularly polite they haven't shown them TOO much.

The second year I was broke broke BROKE and Ellen (bless her sweet head forever) sent me a Fung Wah ticket to Boston and hosted me and then threw a party and all the Somervillians came and there were outings with Connie and Jen and Val and Em and Victor and Thessaly.

The third year I was in LA with Aimee, Miracleman, Debetesse, Sean, Tomash and a pre-natal Emeline and then was scooped up by Cass and taken to San Diego and Joshua Tree.

Last year there was a family wedding on the 10th so I was unable to leave town by much -- Kat Perez and Debetesse came to the Jersey Shore with me and my family.

Saying they haven't been "truly happy" was unfair. True they're tinged with sadness, but thanks to my families (both bio and 'ffista) my Birthdays are beautiful beautiful days.

I'm really enjoying my early twenties. I wish I had more of an income so I could travel more, but college is good too. Plus, I have time. No one has any expectations of me, including myself. I have the freedom to do or go where I want, finances permitting, and I know I can get a job in the field I love pretty much whenever I want.

Hate me.