Monday, January 09, 2006

Me at 37

I'm 37 today.

OK, I could actually happily just leave it at that. I'm not excited about it or upset about it or really anything at all, I'm just 37. I did manage to make an entire weekend out of it, though.

Thursday: Hockey with my cousin, Mike. Rangers v. Flyers courtesy of my generous boss and his season tickets. I treated myself to a beer and also ended up with this conversation:

"What day is the actual birthday?"
"Monday. I'm going to (insert full list of weekend's activities)."
(incredulous) "You like your birthday?"

Friday: Kept to my new plan of making a specifically timed schedule for my work days at home and got a ton of stuff accomplished, including a nap! Got slightly dressed up, met up with Teddy's Girl and we walked over to Freddy's to see Alex play. He was great and I like the new band a lot. We even walked through the park on the way home and ran into a pack of puppies during the off leash hours. Fun!

Saturday: Rehearsal for the Chekhov. I love these people. It's been a long, long time since I've properly directed anything and it's like trying to walk the dog the day after bowling. Everything is a little stiff and sometimes there's pain in a joint when I try to move it. But I think I'm doing a decent job of it and I'm having the most fun ever. More about how godawful small the rehearsal room was later.

Sunday: BRUNCH AND BOWLING! Bottomless mimosas, people. A cake for which the frosting alone required 27 ounces of chocolate. And there were 3 layers so there was frosting between every one. (Thank you PonyExpress!) I bowled pretty well, too. Came in second to someone calling himself Mayor McCheese but not by too much which was pretty good for not bowling in a year. Then we broke at least one law by cramming 5 adults into a Honda and using a toddler as a lap belt and took everyone home. On the way back to the 'hood we got KFC and sat around on the couch watching the Blue Collar Comedy Tour and letting the dog drool on our ankles in hopes of chicken.

Today: Nuthin', just like I like it. I didn't even motivate out of the house in enough time to catch a movie. Read some Alice Walker, got up late, napped, read the e-mail. The mail, both electronic and snail, was quite lovely. Many birthday wishes and an envelope with toast tongs and lip gloss (thank you Chili!), a CD (thank you M!) and a postcard from Mrs. X. Florida is apparently doing right by the X's. Now, the birthday e-card from JAM, no message, just the card, was totally weird but I guess every birthday should yield a little weird. I'm watching the Gilmores on DVD and contemplating my horoscope.

According to Papa Kizz's phone call today my horoscope tells me to just reach out and grab the ripe fruit of opportunity that will be hanging all around me this year. I'm a little peeved since I think it implies that if the year tanks it's 'cause I didn't reach out and grab right but the thought of being surrounded by everything I want within my reach is very cool.

I went back and forth on posting this picture but I think it's good for me. This is me, showered but otherwise unfixed on the day I turned 37.

1 comment:

  1. Happy birthday! You’re in luck—my mom was right about one’s 40s being the best years of one's life. You’ve got that to look forward to! (I’m finding, however, that one’s slippery slope starts at about 49).