illegitimi non carborundum

So, I didn't get a chance to write yesterday. But it was my 27th birthday, and I had a very wonderful and mellow day. It actually didn't really feel like my birthday, which I'm interpreting as a good thing.

The boy and I got up early and drove to Wachusett, where we went snowboarding for a good part of the day. It was positively balmy (around 35-40 degrees and sunny), and with the 30-plus inches of snow we got last week, there was lots of nice fresh powder. Or, at least as much as we can get here on the East coast. I went faster than I ever have before, and felt like I was flying down the mountain. Which probably translates into going not really so fast, but it felt like I was whizzing down. I took only the few requisite tumbles - one really nice face-plant - but managed to stay on my feet most of the time. It was a great day.

We came back home and I listened to my birthday messages, which cracked me up. They included voicemails from my Dad ("Well, Lauren, let's see.... January 1978 you were born, now it's January of 2004.... so you must be 26!" Clearly Dad missed all of last year.) and several snickering messages of "Ha, ha, you're twenty SEVEN now!" from my friends. It was fantastic.

The boy and I went to see Million Dollar Baby last night, which firmly cemented my love for Clint Eastwood movies. It was one of the most beautiful movies I've seen in a long time. Completely heart-wrenching and very intense, and wonderfully acted/directed. It kicks a lot of ass. My next goal is to see 'Unforgiven,' another Eastwood flick, which I've never seen before.

It's another beautiful day today, and I have lots and lots of work to do. I'm pretty darn sore from yesterday, so I'll be hobbling around while I catch up on some work and cleaning. Our apartment is a total pit, so cleaning is imperative today. And I MUST finish that damn fellowship essay. I really want it done before I take off to VT next week...