Saturday, February 04, 2006

happy birthday to me

A couple of decades ago, when my birthday would roll around, it would be my "birthday week" (and sometimes I'd really milk it, and it would be more like my "birthday month"). Total party girl, was I. For me, birthdays are the most important holidays (not just my birthday, but everyone's).

Today I am 39.

Sure seems an awfully lot closer to 40.

MyFK is was at his grandparents overnight last night, and TheMIG is very busy getting ready to go on tour.... so I woke up alone.
Not a bad thing (peace and quiet in this house is a rare thing), but I dont think it was a good match for me today.

Yesterday, pre-birthday happiness came in the form of members of Dandelion singing a beautiful rendition of "Happy Birthday" to me. And then my partner for the duet we are rehearsing guessed me to be 28. That totally made my day...

...until TheMIG says "....and tells her she looks 10 years younger than she is on her b-day ... that's on page 22 of the Guy Manual".
He's probably right.
Maybe on page 23 they should have put "if your female partner is told she looks young for her age, agree with the commentor."

The 2nd thing I did after waking (and visiting the little girl's room) was to blow my nose and toss the tissue in the loo. In that same tossing moment, the jump ring of one very important bracelet

broke, and the bracelet flew into, and sank to, the depths of my toilet.

So the first 20 minutes of my birthday were spent alone, and cold, on the bathroom floor, trying desperately and with much frustration and disgust, to fish out the important bracelet.


Let's hope the rest of my day goes better.

Today I'm going to the Renaud-Wilson Dance Festival. I'm helping out by volunteering a bit, but supposedly I'll be able to attend master classes and see the show tonight.

A full day of dance on my birthday is a wonderful thing :-)


jodi said...

Happy birthday! 39 is hot. In fact, the only thing hotter than 39 is 40 ;)

I hope you managed to get your bracelet back!

Sara said...

Happy Birthday, kiddo! Stop me if I've told you this before...

A long time ago a friend told me that part of the therapy she was undergoing for cancer-related depression was trying as soon as she woke up each morning, just the instant her eyes opened and she knew she was awake, to immediately think of three things for which she was grateful. It could be something little, like her own soft pillow, or something big, like the fact that she woke up at all. According to her therapist, the emotion of gratitude is supposed to set off some kind of extremely healing hormone in the body. It's also a lovely -- and loving -- way to start a day.

My friend was unable to sustain the practice, and while I myself only manage it imperfectly, ever since she told me about it it's been something I've tried to do for myself. Sometimes it's easy because I wake up with everyone I love most in the world snuggled in with me on the same piece of furniture. Some days I'm too crabby at having to wake up at all.

Some days, on the other hand, I am grateful for the existence of things. Things like soap, for example. I suspect you share that particular mote of gratitude with me today. Soap is what makes it at all bearable when you have to dive into a dark place for a shiny talisman of love. You can undertake a lot of things when you know there will be soap at the other end.

Enjoy all the dancing. And remember, getting older is what you're supposed to be doing. Sure beats bleeding out by the side of the road, eh?