"Wow," I thought to myself, because no one else cared to listen to me think at the time, "another dastardly errant-and-truant lurker named Amy has the same birthday as my dastardly errant-and-truant lurker named Amy." And then the realization not only hit home, it hit my neighbor's house, too: There was not, as that Sondheim fellow may lead you to believe, a multitude of Amys. There was just one: My dastardly errant-and-truant lurker named Amy. And, yes, today was her birthday.
She celebrated in grand fashion: by grooming a black standard poodle named Ellie who, when standing on her hind legs, was taller than the Statue of Liberty. This, of course, meant that she was promptly renamed Ellie Island. Mind you, Amy (a multitude of one) had never groomed a standard poodle before nor interacted with one. But, by, um, shear force of will, she grabbed her clippers, inserted a No. 5 blade, and went to work. Soon, the fur was flying (coach, I believe) and the black standard poodle that was bigger than the Statue of Liberty was soon looking much more prim and proper.
When she awakes (Amy not Ellie) I shall inform her of Bruce's public celebration/castigation, and implore her to post. Meanwhile, I must remove my own birthday from the profile, lest I read the notes one day soon and go, "Wow, a another dastardly errant-and-truant lurker named Mark shares my birthday …"