My mother arrived in Los Angeles today, in preparation for Passover next week.   After she unpacked, Sophia and I showed her all of the birthday cards that I received from other bloggers.

“You see, Mom, friendship is more important than actually making a decent living through writing.” 

“Well, let’s not get carried away this…” added Sophia.

My mother opened up a cutesy hand-made card from a Canadian blogger.

“And so many women!”

“Neilochka’s very popular with female bloggers.” explained Sophia.

I beamed with pride.  My mother may have once imagined me as a Jewish doctor or lawyer, but I doubt she dreamed that I would grow up to become an international sex symbol. 

“You’re like that boy on TV,” she said.

“What boy?”

“The boy in American Idol.   The boy all the girls like.  The Indian boy.”

“Sanjaya?”

“Sanjaya!” Sophia repeated, laughing.

I felt insulted by my own mother.  She just nodded.

“When I saw him the first time on TV, I knew he was going to win.  He has so much personality.  So much more than his sister.”

“Personality!?  He’s awful,” I protested.

“Oh, yeah?  I bet you five cents that he wins.” offered my high-gambling mother, her recent Mah-Jongg winnings making her cocky.

For the rest of the day, my mother’s words rang in my head, making me wonder if I should have accepted that Prozac from that therapist last week. 

While my mother was upstairs, I cornered Sophia in the kitchen.

“I’m not like Sanjaya.  Am I?” I stuttered anxiously, acting just like a person with a dependent personality structure.

“Well, maybe your mother has a point.” said Sophia.   “I think little girls like Sanjaya because he is safe and non-threatening.”

“Are you saying female bloggers think I’m safe and non-threatening?”

“Well…”

There was a silence heard around Redondo Beach.

“How can I be safe and non-threatening?!  I’m always writing about sex… about how I want to f**k them!”

“Yeah, well… sure… you write about it.   Sanjaya also wore a mohawk last night, but that doesn’t mean he knows how to be a punk rocker.”

A Year Ago On Citizen of the Month:  The Best Teacher I Ever Had

Can someone have his best birthday ever — four days before his actual birthday? 

Knowing that Sophia and I we were heading off on our road trip to Portland, Danny invited us over for some pre-birthday birthday cake (which he baked himself!  Coconut!) 

First surprise:  Communicatrix and her boyfriend, Brenton, showed up to wish me an early happy birthday.  

Second surprise:  Sophia revealed that she has been secretly working behind the scenes to make my birthday extra special.   She has been emailing YOU for several weeks, telling you of my upcoming birthday, and asking you to mail me a card or a gift to Danny’s address. 

Third surprise:  A whole bunch of gifts and cards were piled high in Danny’s living room, the gifts and cards as varied as there are bloggers:

Chocolates from Belgium.   Art work.  Photographs.  T-shirts from various cities across the country.  Baseball caps.  Soap shaped like a woman’s breast.  A tool kit.  Books.  Movies.  CDs.  Fancy notebooks.  Buttons.  Chewing gum.  Handmade candy.  A beautiful purple bathrobe!   A hand-knitted scarf.  Magazine subscriptions.  Special beer from Chicago.  An emergency phone charger.  Poems.    And tons of birthday cards.  

And more is coming.

I was in shock for the rest of the night.  I had no idea of any of this.  I feel like George Bailey from “It’s a Wonderful Life.” 

I am still speechless.  I can’t think of anything clever to say, other than, “Wow, I’m truly touched.”  

I’m also drunk, so I’ll need to write more about this tomorrow.

Thanks, everyone.  Thanks, Danny.   

And Sophia, you really ARE the best!

P.S. — Does this mean I have to start reading your blogs again?