Today is a holiday for many worldwide, and at 4:20 this afternoon the pungent smoke of burning flowers will form a cloud over many college campuses. But I will always remember this date as the birthday of a certain tall, funny Canadian.
I am a bit obsessed with birthdays, especially my own, and I make a habit of remembering them and calling or sending a note - though I do owe many Pisceans an apology this year.
Sometimes, I keep that up long after there is any point in doing so, and remember the occasion even when my other memories of the person in question have become hazy. It is thus that I am close to romantic-interest birthday "bingo" with the second of each month (I'd imagine an astrologer would have something to say about that, though I'd be unlikely to take it seriously) and that I can still easily recall the birthday of my eighth-grade crush, even though I was not invited to his bar mitzvah.
Of course, an electronic calendar with "every year" checked helps. And many of those on my birthday list don't always bother to acknowledge the most important day of the year. But they seem oddly touched when I do. I can't be sure if that's because they're truly appreciative, or because they're amused by my geeky foolishness. But either way, I'll take the connection.