I learned years ago that, as a holiday baby born right between Christmas and New Years, you cannot expect much excitement on your birthday. It’s just a natural phenomenon. I know, I know, my life must be filled with woe and sorrow…Not exactly. I see it this way. Everyone around me just spent the better part of a week ensnared in often unpleasant family and social gatherings, with little recourse other than self-medication via piles of pecan pie and a few boxes of cheap wine. They understandably need a break before the cycle repeats itself on New Years, only now with the added discomfort of having dressing up like proud peacocks so that the other miserable party attendees will be suitably impressed. I found…