Well, according to the "Certificate of Live Birth" my parents gave me from their files (when I thought I was going to need 15 different things to prove who I was for my driver's license), as of 6:25 a.m. EST, I am 39.

(At that time - 5:25 a.m. here - I was on the cross-country ski exerciser, doing my daily workout. I don't know whether to feel proud or sad that I was working out as my odometer flipped over another number for this year).

My mom sent me a box of my favorite kind of homemade cookies, and also included some fancy napkins to use when eating them:



I'm HOW old, again?