No, it’s just like 29. But better.

First thing’s first: yes, my birthday was a sensational blast! If there’s anywhere to wear a “Happy Birthday” tiara, it’s to a Lady Gaga show. I had an instant entourage of strangers and fellow fans to cheer through the myriad of costumes and stage acts. It was less a concert and more an entire evening’s show. I got to have a spectacular time before and after because I have an incredible, incredible friend who housed me, drove me, then forced delightfully brutal Korean films on me. If you like brutal mind-benders, I fail to see how you won’t need a smoke after any of Chan Woo Park’s “Revenge Trilogy.”

Once back in town, I began selling Avon (Want some?) and made rounds. I got to paint a sidewalk with Artrageous, but then missed the next couple of spontaneous public art gigs with the group due to this stupid disease. I kept surprising myself by thinking I wasn’t “overdoing it” in every day life, but after this street art event, I was down for the count. I have been since ringing in my new decade with a hijack of dizziness and fatigue. We’re going to try Neurontin again — this time at a higher dose — to see if there’s really anything to be done about this constant whirling Dervish.

Because of the severe “cog fog” that accompanies such blistering fatigue, I have been mostly bed-ridden for the last several days. I will continue to confine myself until later this week when I head back to Charlotte for an Avon meeting and Bridesmaid duties.

(I’m really excited about the Bridesmaid duties.)

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