Buttercream, Here I Come

Today is my birthday. Today I turn eighty billion years old.

Okay, okay, not eighty billion, but I am tumbling into a section of the twenties where I am closer to thirty than twenty. What this calls for is extra-sweet cake and a giant, giant, giant bottle of champagne--after class, of course. I teach until nine. Then, and only then, will I put on my slippers, get under the covers, and drink Ballatore straight from the bottle.