Happy Birthday to Me

Today's my birthday, a date I share with J.K. Rowling and a host of D-list celebrities including Australian tennis player Evonne Goolagong, economist Milton Friedman and dare I say it, Liberace. Even though there were enough candles on my cake this morning to risk setting off the smoke detectors, I'm a big fan of birthday celebrations at any age. As a kid, having a summer birthday seemed like a bit of rip-off. There were never any cupcakes at school and sometimes it was hard to rustle up guests for a proper party. But as I look back, I consider the many different places where I celebrated -- with my grandparents in Wisconsin, at our favorite spot on Lake Champlain in Vermont, the year I had maple frosting on a cake purchased from a bakery on Cape Cod, and a memorable train trip from Copenhagen to Amsterdam on my sweet sixteen. (My dad bought me roses in the train station.) I will never forget the monthlong celebration of my birthday, sometime in the early 90s, that involved a lot of magic markers, thanks to my colleagues in DC. And now a birthday in Paris. How lucky I have been! Thanks to friends for the e-mails and cards and to my family for the gifts and the homemade carrot cake.