Well, actually no it's not. Your life. It's just umm...well, shameless huckster that I am, I needed a familiar hook with which to justify lifting, without permission, images and information from your own websites. That was one, here's the other. And your Facebook page. I have several reasons I consider to be valid, and I hope excusable, for this piratic deception.
At the conceptual onset, knowing you, Dirndl Skirt, to be a lady of refinement and impeccable modesty, and altho you have posted this material on your own sites and have even used some if not all of it at one time or another in your marvelous OS presentations, there is not a scintilla of doubt in my mind that you would cringe with embarrassment at the very idea of putting forth such a blatant display of yourself on the occasion of celebrating
One last confession: The "I" used initially, before the intent of this post was revealed, is actually a placeholder for "we" as in the Humble, Proud, Grateful and Gestalt-driven Open Salon Birthday Commission, better known as HUPGAGOSBIC (pronounced "hupgagósbic"), of which I have been tapped as ad hoc coordinator. Whew (how much room is left here? Huh? Oh. Okey dokey).
Moving along then and addressing all interested readers, Dirndl Skirt, whom a select number of devotees have come to know by her true name - Sharon Watts - was once one of the cutest little babies you ever did see.
Later in life she became the cutest little daddy's girl you ever could imagine.
And the cutest little construction manager you ever could hope to find.
And the cutest hat model in all of New York.
OK, one more confession. The very last one. These are just teasers to lure you into the exotic, artistic, warm, friendly world of Sharon "Dirndl Skirt" Watts, which you can enter by clicking on any one of the hot links I've embedded above. It is also, of course, an excuse to wish Sharon a very happy, a deliriously, heavenly happy, a...well, you know what I mean.