My brother, Josh, turns 30 (sorry, 10(x3), Mum) today.

Josh is creative and ambitious, the owner of his own business. He grasps ideas firmly in his hands and sculpts them from air until they become firm and tangible. I’m wholly jealous of his follow-through and tenacity.

He is a dog lover and the person of Sampson, a wrinkly year-old Sharpei, who roams the hills outside L.A. with him.

Josh is quick-witted and can turn a phrase like no one else I know. He gets away with saying things you’d tolerate from no one else, merely because he is good-willed about it or funny in an understated way.

We didn’t get along so well when we were kids, but now that we’ve grown older, we can actually spend time together and enjoy it, which is great. Of course, because of this, he did have to move across the country. I try not to take it personally.

Happy birthday, Josh. I hope you and Sampson get a nice ramble in today followed by some fun with friends. Know you’re in my thoughts today and always. I love you.

I started my business trip to San Francisco luxuriously slowly this morning, which is good since I was up until nearly 4 a.m. East Coast time last night and then was awakened today by a housekeeping knock on the door at 8:30.

I wanted a cup of tea and something to eat, so I threw on some clothes and headed downstairs where I’d read there was a coffee shop. Except, of course, that I’m staying in a fancy hotel, so their version of a coffee shop less resembled a Peet’s or a Starbucks and more an old boys club, down all in dark wood and named “The Oak Room.” Not me, either in price or in atmosphere. (For the record, there is no coffee pot in the hotel room.

So I wandered across the street to Union Square, where I vaguely remembered from previous visits there was a coffee stand. Styled after a French pâtisserie, the shop offered espresso bowls of tea and delightful pastries, including a tasty chocolate croissant. I sat outside in the sun and read my book and watched people and pigeons.

Then I toured the block or so around the hotel. I ordered room service last night because the guy at the desk told me there was nowhere to get dinner at 10 p.m. I’m sure he misunderstood my question and thought I was asking about food options within the hotel instead deliberately neglecting to tell me about the two all-night diners just out the back door. They definitely look more promising for a late-night tea run than room service.

Speaking of which, room service seemed to be a more glamorous idea in my head than it turned out to be in reality. Maybe it would have been different if I’d had company. But otherwise it was just me sitting on the edge of my bed eating an overpriced salad and watching the tail end of Men in Trees. Really nothing exotic about it. Another ideal dashed by the cold water of reality, I’m afraid.

It was a busy afternoon/evening and I have a renewed sense of appreciation for those who stand for a living. Tomorrow also promises to be busy, with lots of interacting with hyper children. But the day ought to end at 5, so I’m hopeful that my friends and I should be able to spend a fun evening out exploring the city and tasting San Francisco’s delicacies.

Sorry for the late posting, but it’s been a day of traveling for me, and then the internet in my hotel room in San Francisco didn’t work without some external intervention. In the meantime, three beautiful things from the last week:

1. The branches on the small trees lining my street were solidly encased in ice by the time I walked home from the metro Tuesday evening.

2. Rebs sent me photos of her brand-new niece, who arrived on Jason’s and my birthday. The baby is gorgeous with dark hair and beautiful red lips. Newborns aren’t usually very pretty, but Sophie definitely is.

3. I got bored on the plane flight and opened my window blind (despite the fact that the flight attendants pointed out this is very inconsiderate behavior) so I could actually take advantage of my window seat on the cross-country flight. We must have been somewhere over the Four Corners area because suddenly I saw red rocks and a deep canyon (but not the Grand one).

(About this time I also noticed the plane’s wing flapping as if it were a diving board under Greg Louganis, but that was less beautiful and more scary to think about. But I suppose that someone who took physics would tell me that the wing flexing was actually a good thing because its flexing prevents it from snapping off. Intellectually I understood that. Emotionally? Not so much.)

P.S.: Thank you for all the birthday well-wishes. I appreciated them all.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow, when I celebrate my 33rd birthday. Rudi and I both took the day off, but we won’t object if our respective workplaces call the day because of icy conditions and we get the day off just because.

What are we planning? Ice skating. We were originally contemplating one of the downtown rinks or maybe the C&O Canal, if it’s still cold enough. (Rudi reports that National Park Service employees were measuring the ice on Sunday and had it at 4″ thick then.) But at this rate, we’ll just be able to lace up our skates and head out to Connecticut Avenue.

If the Smithsonians are open, we might head to the Museum of the American Indian, where they’ll be holding a lecture on chocolate, as well as a free tasting. I mean, if someone is handing out free chocolate on my birthday, who am I to refuse it?

We always try to catch a movie on my birthday. This year I’m lobbying for Music and Lyrics, the new Drew Barrymore romantic comedy. Seems appropriate, no?

And there will be some pizza. And some cake. And hot chocolate — with whipped cream and sprinkles. And cake.

If we get stuck indoors for the day, I’m thinking we could always make chocolate chip cookies and knit. Well, okay, Rudi would have to play video games…

And snuggle and watch the snow/ice fall…

Doesn’t that sound like a nice birthday/Valentine’s Day plan?

Tomorrow they are predicting that we will be hit with a little bit of snow, a little bit of rain, and a little bit of ice. Typical winter weather, right?

Well, if by typical you mean what elicits fear, panic, and obsession, then, yes.

I swear, if we were expecting the sort of storm like Rudi and I moved down during four years ago, when D.C. received a foot of snow and eventually had to ask New Jersey to please let us borrow their snow plows and drivers after they were done with them, then I’d understand.

But we’re talking about a few inches, at best.

We are not Atlanta where snow is such a foreign thing that it’s cheaper to shut down the city whenever it falls than to keep a couple of plows on hand. It snows in D.C. every winter. Ice occurs even more regularly than that.

Get used to it, people. Shovel your sidewalks, clear your cars off fully before you drive them, and assume you will not need to burn toilet paper to stay warm.

We’re a proud, resilient people who fancy ourselves self-sufficient. Don’t let the Northerners see you before a winter storm, though, or they might question why we keep asking for political autonomy.

Rudi and I threw my birthday party tonight. This was the first birthday party I’ve had since we moved down to D.C. four years ago and I definitely think we’ll have to do it again.

For once, we were actually sort of ready when the party start time came around, but our friends gave us a sufficient buffer so we could do things like frost the heart cakes and cupcakes (with lavender-colored buttercream icing) and turn on the party lights.

Rudi cranked the 80s party music early in the afternoon to keep us bopping until the Police kicked off the Grammys in high style.

We’d originally suggested board games when we invited folks over, but I don’t think anyone missed them when we opted not to pull them out in what was otherwise a low-key evening. It just means that we will have to have folks over again in a few weeks for a few rounds of Mille Bourne and Trivial Pursuit.

Rudi’s chili was tasty and the new cake recipe I tried out was quite successful. We had a full house squeezed around the coffee table and insufficient seating, although we seemed to make do.

I came away from the evening with chocolate, wine, a book, a kitschy-cool shell lamp, and the warm fuzzies from spending time with friends.

It was a good night.