Um...

Well, I feel entirely stupid. A mere half-hour after I wrote my last entry about having a horrible birthday, I arrive home to find a surprise party waiting for me. I didn't react immediately, these things are a lot to throw at someone and I suspect that surprise parties differ only from interventions in that they serve cake.
My mother set the entire thing up, a simultaneously embarassing and amazing thing, and quite a few people were there that I never would have expected to be in the same building at once, namely my kendo sensei and two of my kendo seniors, but also my great cousins, my two decent uncles, and...MY DAD.
(Which makes me feel really good that I didn't send him a letter I wrote a few weeks back telling him that I hated him).
I even went out for drinks later with my Dad and my Uncle Bill, whose waist-line and youthful image intact are all that seperate him from the Big Lebowski.

If anyone else has had a birthday where their father and uncle have tried to get them to smoke pot the entire time, I'd like to hear about it.

All in all, I feel like an asshole for writing the last entry. I'd delete it, but that would just be ostrich syndrome.