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CHAPTER ONE 'YEP, I HAVE A SERIOUSLY SUCKY BIRTHDAY,' I TOLD MY CAT, Nala. (Okay, truthfully she's not so much my cat as I'm her person. You know how it is with cats: They don't really have owners, they have staff. A fact I mostly try to ignore.) Anyway, I kept talking to the cat as if she hung on my every word, which is soooo not the case. 'It's been seventeen years of sucky December twenty-fourth birthdays. I'm totally used to it by now. No big deal.' I knew I was saying the words just to convince myself. Nala 'mee-uf-owed' at me in her grumpy-old-lady cat voice and then settled down to lick her privates, clearly showing that she understood I was full of b.s. 1