As of yesterday at 3 p.m., I am on vacation. I won’t be back in my office until Monday, January 3. Hooray!

I plan to celebrate my birthday, read some books, see a bunch of movies, sleep late, go to some parties, spend time with Matt, and loaf around.

The fun began last night, when Matt and I went to Barracuda for a happy hour with a few people. I played Simpsons Pinball badly. Afterwards, six of us went to a French restaurant on 7th Avenue between 20th and 21st, the name of which I can’t remember. The waiter’s accent was straight out of French Restaurant Central Casting. I had a delicious steak and French fries.

I also broke a wine glass. I was squeezing out between our table and an empty table so I could use the restroom, and it was so tight that I pulled part of the tablecloth of the empty table with me, knocking a wine glass onto the floor in the process. It sounded beautiful as it shattered into a zillion pieces; some of the pieces landed in my friend Russ’s umbrella, who dutifully shook it out once we all stepped back outside.

It was the second time in three weeks that I’d broken some glassware. The other time was at the Duplex on a recent Friday night; Matt and I were leaving after an evening of hanging out with Dan and Mike. I’d put on my jacket and slung my messenger bag around me; as I turned to leave, my bag knocked into a glass on the table behind us. It fell over, landed on the carpet and shattered. It was a grand exit.

Mazel Tov! I’d be great at Jewish weddings.

(Strangely, although I’m Jewish, I’ve never been to a Jewish wedding.)