Three a.m. found me outside, talking quietly into a cell phone while the cicadas traded stories with the crickets about the end of summer. Beneath me, the concrete gathered chill from the still, silent air, as clouds played peekaboo with a gibbous moon.

Once upon a time, there was a kitty, and, like most kitties, this kitty had a birthday. While this kitty said very little about her birthday, when her back was turned, many of the other cats gossiped about it. "Whatever shall we get Miss Kitty for her birthday?" they said.

All these years, and I still don't like my eyes. Silly squinchy grayish-blue things. Mind you, a good portion of the squinch probably has just as much to do with my nearsightedness as it has to do with the genetics of small eyes, but, nevertheless, part of me wishes I'd been born with eyes that didn't practically shut themselves of their own volition every time I decide to crack a smile.

Courtesy of Heather and fridayfive.org:

Please note—my birthday is not coming up anytime soon, so please don't interpret this as a blatant "hey my birthday is next week and you'd better get me stuff "post.

Because, as we all know, I'm horrifically overprepared and wouldn't wait until the week before my birthday!

I've been tinkering around with a wish list at amazon.com for quite some time, but haven't posted a link to it yet.I added a few more things to it this morning and figured what the heck, I'll look crass and commercial and post the damn thing.

Makes me feel icky doing this. Ask my parents—I get squirmy when asked what I want/need for my birthday or Christmas. Because, quite frankly, I take care of my needs, and most of my wants are so incredibly arcane that nobody would ever guess them.