“Did you have a fun time tonight?” the taxi driver asked me.

“Yes, my girlfriends took me out for drinks and dinner. It’s my birthday today.”

“You know, when I saw you standing there on the corner in that shiny pink dress, I thought to myself, ‘Now that looks like someone celebrating her birthday.’ I did, that’s what I thought.”

I laughed.

“So how old are you today?” he queried.

“Thirty-six,” I answered proudly. For some inexplicable reason I have a profound affinity for numbers that are divisible by twelve. It’s going to be a good year. I feel very even.

“Thirty-six? You are so young, so beautiful, this will be a wonderful year for you,” he affirmed.

Again, I laughed. It already was.