That's right! In six days, on December second, I, Cluegirl, shall spontaneously become The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything. (Line forms to the right, gratuities are appreciated.) For those hoopy froods who don't speak Hitchiker, I'll be turning 42.
I expect it to be nothing at all like being 41 has been, but just in case, I've liquidated my assets, put everything into canned goods and shotgun ammunition, and have stapled my towel firmly to my elbow. With that, and my wand in my back pocket, I expect I'll be ready for anything. Except possibly zombies. Zombies take a little more preparation.
As for what I want for my birthday?
No frelling idea.
I mean, there are the old standards, of course; I always get a bit giddy at just the notion that someone might illustrate one of my stories, or conversely, might write a story for one of my drawings. Collaboration is highly squee-some in my little world, y'see, and I swear that one day SOMEONE will illustrate the mirror scene from
Pink Slip, and I shall expire of Happy on the spot.
I could wish for world peace and the brotherhood of man, but I've noticed how shittily brothers treat each other, and as we all know, the last time the matrix was configured for world peace, it crashed and we lost whole crops to the logic failure. So that's out.
But reining things back into the realm of the distantly plausible, I'd say I want for more or less nothing of note. I want to keep rolling on
Tempus Fugitive. I want my cats and my snakes to stay healthy in the coming year. I want the resources to close up the hole in my house properly, and to begin the next major set of repairs (Hopefully before the porch falls entirely OFF Mandala House, thanks!)
And most importantly, I want my friends who are in reach to join me for a Solstice party on December 19th, to celebrate both my birthday, and the Sun King's in one swat. The date is positive; December 19th. Save it, and if you can possibly make it to Troy, NY, do consider coming! And don't worry if you're not of the witchy persuasion -- I plan no heresy, just cake and shenanigans.