No, this isn't some sort of post where I reveal my horrid Messianic complex to you. This is not becoming the Watch Me Take The Bar: The Cult (although that would be a heckuva cult, complete with the compulsory government raid.) I was actually born on Christmas Day.

This is, at best, a mixed blessing. Some days, it's hard to find the blessing in there. I have a foggy conception of what birthday paper looks like. And the birthday cake. You get gipped on birthday cake a lot when your birthday is at Christmas. (My mom said last night, "Oh...we forgot a birthday cake. Again.")

Other people share their birthday with Joe Torre or Stevie Nicks. I get to share it with someone whose business card reads "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace."

Makes "Attorney at Law" seem pretty insignificant, doesn't it?

On the other hand, there are some definite benefits to having your birthday on Christmas.

I never had to be in class on my birthday.

I will never work a day of my life on my birthday.

People are generally in a good mood.

My siblings were never jealous when I got gifts, since they got them, too.

Beyond that, much though I complain about my birthday (and I do), there is something undeniably cool about the fact that my birthday is ON Christmas. Not on December 24 or December 26 or July 4 or any other day; but Christmas, for heavens' sake. It makes for a good story at cocktail parties, if nothing else.

Anuway, it's Christmas. It's a good day. Merry Christmas everyone!