Long Beach_IToday, 2-Sept-2007, is just another wet Sunday for the fellow residents in BM. It could be remembered as a good day snuggling in your nest replenishing energy for the last minute shopping for the National Day Sales, and possibly, a crappy morning too, to wake up thinking you are one day older than yesterday, and nothing has been done to make yourself act and think in a more mature way and yet look younger!

I am one typical weekender waking up with no plans in mind, hoping someone from the Poh’s family is going to treat me a feast in the evening. And of course, an ice-cream cake would be a bonus! Well, I must not say this is an ordinary day. Today is my birthday, man, MY BIRTHDAY! I told my best friend I am going to give myself a nap as birthday present. I then realised a nap is not gonna give a miracle to my dark circle or erase some wrinkles from my face. No way. It simply makes my day an hour shorter. Thus, I decided to award myself a bigger, and a more meaningful gift. I registered a blog. See, that’s something to make myself feel better (“feel”, to be precise). Something to look forward to, birthday girl! Cheers!!

Last year, same date, I was on the Airbus 707 flying to Los Angeles. I told my pal in Vancouver, proudly and loudly, “I have 40 hours for my birthday!” That happened of course. The United State is 16 hours behind Singapore's time. I smiled to myself, wondering how many lucky people on earth could enjoy his birthday other than 24 hours in a year. I was given 40 hours for God sake, I am the darned lucky baby. No doubt I am.

What would you do if you have extra hours on your birthday? I tell u what I did. I woke up in the morning busy packing the luggage and viewing over and over the check-list, cleaning up the house again and make sure all windows are nicely shut, a light lunch (in front of the stove), hailed a cab to Changi Airport, spent 2 hours in the waiting lounge drinking plain water, for the next 16 hours had my butt glued to the *^#&%-not-too-big seat moving my toes and playing with the remote control and eating the healthiest meals served by the best airline in the world. Well, well, not one, but two flights in a row. What else can I say? A darned Happy Birthday to myself. I touched down Portland at 10pm, 2 hours left. Picked a car from Dollars and fled to Safeway to grab the last bottle of alcohol sold in that night. Well then, hotel checked, wireless network found, hot water is warm enough, everything set. 2 minutes left for me to drop a message to Boss telling him I have arrived the United States in one piece and the last 3 seconds to tell myself “Happy Birthday".

This year, I was asked for my birthday wish. Hell no, I definitely do not deserve a 40 hours birthday. Give me 25 hours, an hour extra for the nap. Or an ice-cream cake, please.