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Apparently I had a birthday yesterday. How old am I? 34. The title of this post? A typo. The white in my goatee? Bleaching effect of sun and chlorine.

Ah, who am I kidding? I'm as old as I am, and it bothers me not a whit. I put on an aloha shirt (it is an aloha shirt, more or less, from Tori Richard) and proceeded to open presents, have a nice little lunch with Max at our usual place,
then join Daniel for dinner at the bar at Yoshi's.



A day older today, not much wiser, and in possession of at least a few photos to prove that I had a rather nice birthday indeed!

Max is 39 - tomorrow

Conrad is out of town. Again. I'm used to it by now. Sort of. I wish he were here for more than 36 hours this week, but I'll join him in Denver tomorrow night. If we can't be together in Chicago, we can be together somewhere. Snivel snivel whine whine.

In lieu of Conrad's company, Max joined me for dinner tonight. It's been a while since last I sat in Katachi over at the Red Line stop, and I swear the portions used to be larger. Kind of an odd and deflating experience, though the food was fine if unexceptional. Hmmmm.


Anyway, Max is new to Chicago and soon to be my colleague (Monday, in fact). A nice evening for a casual dinner and a chat, with the added delight that tomorrow is his birthday. 20, he says, but I know better. No matter, he's good company.

I didn't take photos of dessert, but we did make it to Yoshi's to finish with that course. Has it been three or so weeks since last I was in Yoshi's? I feel guilty about that. Lovely desserts, certainly, but by that point I simply thought it nicer to sit and chat without the camera flashing away.

And the last photo? Just Max's sexy look, or so he claimed. Not bad for a man of his age, though, right? He'll get me for that comment, and deservedly so.