|
|
|
wWednesday, March 21, 2007 |
|
|
|
Happy Birthday To Me
So...for many a years now, having it been post-sxsw or merely post-spring break, I have habitually thrown myself a birthday party the following weekend. Probably every year since the age of 19. Though this may seem a bit egotistical, it couldn't be further from the truth. I'm not the type who withholds my birthday information to make people prove they can remember my birthday, I do it simply as a reason to celebrate. My reason. Or me and my friend's reason. Or me and my friends' reasons. Hey! It's my birthday! Let me buy you a beer! A reason to party. To celebrate. To gather with friends and it not be about work or a new home or a certain holiday or coworkers or appearances or anything. Just get drunk in my yard and he who falls down first wins.
Now, the subject of a house party has been under debate for quite a few years now. (i.e. I'm 35...do I really want to throw another kegger?! Do I really want to host a party where the 21-year-olds are now fourteen years younger than me, rather than me being the 21-year-old throwing the party?! When oh when is it eventually time to grow up?!) So you contemplate that 'nice dinner party' where a few of you gather at Mars or Castle Hill or some other over-priced restaurant that I never go to anyway, nor do I really care to go to. (It really isn't about diamonds for me. And I'm a vegetarian, so who wants to pay $15 for a salad.) So what do I want?
Could this be the postpartum SXSW talking? (ie. Now what do I do with my life?) When the idea of sitting and doing nothing and just reading a book sounds like the most wonderful of wonderful activities. To read a book and not think that you are wasting your time or that you could be doing hours of work still or that you could be doing hours of personal stuff to prepare you for the negative time you will have throughout the months of February and March. Where have all my friends gone? I haven't talked to them in months...will they still remember me? Will they pick up the phone if I call or reply to my emails when I send them one? Will they understand that I didn't have a life for those three precious 30-day intervals from the onset of 2007? Who has gotten married or broken up or gotten pregnant or wrecked their cars or got laid off or moved to a new home or started a new project or went back to school or found the love of their lives or whose mother has fallen ill or all the daily ins and outs of normal life when I don't have that normal life, that through conversation connects you to the loved ones around you. Not the inane chatter of how is the weather, but the deep and honest conversations that truly connect you to the people in your life. Started a new job, playing in the band of my dreams, passed the bar exam, got arrested again, dyed my hair platinum, things that will make this person who was almost a constant in your weekly routine now almost seem as a stranger that you will have to relearn, but only if they are willing to let you relearn them. And will also have to be rather content with you not having anything new or exciting to say because you will have to relearn yourself as well, and invent new memories in the oncoming months ahead.
These things, these connections, these conversations, it's what makes my relationships real with other people, other friends, my chosen family of my life. I ask a lot of questions, bam bam bam, nonlinear as the thought or question strikes, cuz I want to know the details, the story is in the details, don't miss a single detail or don't bother and let's just start over. And now...I have a build-up of three months of unasked & unanswered questions. Do I start over? Do I start from today? Do I just say hello and let things unwind as they will? Do I rent the season of Lost and 24 so that I know what everyone in the grocery store is talking about?
No.
I just stop. Kick back. Slow down. Start over. Begin anew. For the first time, on this start over time of all times, Miss Kitty is not there waiting for me to wind down with. This little furry creature who I spent 14 years with is not there when the clock finally turns from 200% speed back to normal, and I can watch a bad sitcom without staring at the clock thinking I should be doing something else, something productive. And missing Miss Kitty may seem like the most random of things to say, but it was the one thing that definitely struck me last night when I got home to crash because I couldn't stay awake past 5pm for lack of sleep during the past month. There are my friends, who know who they are, who I got to see a lot during SXSW that I absolutely did not think I would get to see, and there was one that I would have very much liked to see, but it didn't work out. And there were others who I knew I would see afterwards so I wasn't too afraid of not seeing them at that time. But now, how do you ask...Hey? What are y'all doing tonight? Can I join again? Even though I had to blow you off for the past three months? or...Hey, wanna go to lunch sometime, even though I haven't been able to take a lunch since January? Some people understand, and some people don't. And some people understand all too well and know when to smother me with kindness when I am sad, and to leave me some breathing room when that sadness is pushed to the brink of tears. And sometimes this week you will see a glance of a smile, of pure joy, of I survived, and I did well. And with all that being said, I can be me again. That other 75% of me that we haven't seen in a while. That other 75% of me that is there 75% of the year. And hopefully, hopefully, my friends will understand. And slowly let me back into their lives with their stories of life and love and romance and sorrow and anticipation and excitement and fear and all of the wonderful emotions that make us human. And friends.
So...what does this have to do with my birthday? Well, I have always tried to get people together, from all walks of life. Friends of friends of friends, or old coworkers, or old roommates, or old friends who don't talk anymore but should, and old lovers who aren't really mad at each other anymore but don't know it yet, and hippies and posers and preps and bartenders and rockers and artists and quote "normal" people and just all people. Last week, I hated everybody. This week, that statement couldn't be further from the truth. I miss my father. I miss Miss Kitty. And I am grateful for everyone else I have met along the way. And I have always tried to get them together the week after the chaos when it is no longer about the chaos, but it is just about being together as human beings again, and celebrating life. It's not about my birthday, it's about us celebrating our lives. together.
Sorry I'm being sappy. I'm still rather weak and tired right now. And sick. And wanting to jump for joy to the sky, while at the same time, wanting to lie in my bed for four solid days and hire a personal chef, chauffeur, masseuse, and physician.
But come celebrate with me Friday, if you have the day off work like I do. I am in need for some spirits and libations. aka "I love a good day drunk!"
p.s. Monday is officially my birthday. I plan on getting daydrunk Monday as well. There's nothing so compellingly delicious as getting daydrunk on a weekday at 2pm...
posted by
zenbetty at 5:51 PM
|
|
|
|
|
|
|