Geminis don’t believe in astrology

Today, the first of June, is my 33rd birthday.

I’m reaching the end of a long series of significant numbers. 27 was a cube number, three to the power of itself. 28 was a perfect number, the sum of its own factors. 29 was prime, 30 was a nice round multiple of ten, 31 was another prime, and 32 was a power of two (100,000 in binary).

33 is cool because it’s palindromic and all the same digit– but after this, I’ll have to stretch if I want to keep the streak going (like claiming that 34 is awesome because of the internet meme of “Rule 34.”) I think this may be the year to lay my cool-number streak to rest.

I plan to celebrate, as usual, with a small group of friends and loved ones. I’ll bake my own cake, probably with the same strawberry frosting I made up last year (it was a buttercream frosting with actual fresh strawberries blended into it in the food processor, and it was pink and sweet and freakin’ delicious). The candles will be little tea-lights in tiny glass holders. Three on one side of the cake, and three on the other. Yeah, baby, I use base ten for my birthday candles.

So, happy birthday, me.

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