Posts Tagged ‘me’

My super-cool birthday!

April 24, 2008

For those few readers who give a damn, my birthday was great. I had a surprise party, which was made more interesting by the fact that I was already AT my house. So everyone actually had to contrive a reason to show up, and then arrive simultaneously. Miss Information had taken her recent Sweeney Todd obsession into the realm of vegetarian-friendly “meat pies” and some yummy hazelnut cookies as well.

She also found me some REAL COKE. For the uninitiated, real Coke is made with actual sugar, and comes in a tall glass bottle. None of that high-fructose corn syrup nonsense to spoil things!

A well-timed bit of spending money (a rarity around these parts) enabled me to pick up a new memory card for my camera, so I upgraded from 64 megabytes to 1 gig! Now I can take high-quality video for nearly 30 minutes… my brain is enjoying tossing this possibility around for future projects. I also got some punch balloons, and three tiny basil plants.

On a somewhat surreal note, the girl checking out our purchases was very excited to tell us about a hotel “somewhere in the midwest” that does not have beds, but is “all murder rooms.” Not sure what that meant exactly, but I think she may have been describing some sort of home-grown history museum. Or just getting too much of the home-grown herself…

Taking our leave from Homicide Ho-Jo, Mister and I had our photostrip made, with props! For the record, bubbles are finicky partners in a photo setting.

Upon returning home, DJ Mo presented me with the keys to Dave City, a sim of which I am not only the man-about-town and concurrent five-time homeowner, but also the mayor. My approval rating is pretty high, but apparently, I need to get a fire station built before this highly-desirable real estate goes up in flames.

New Nashville homeowner Tony capped off my birthday with a much-appreciated gift card for Amazon. Winging their way to my door are John Cage’s “Silence,” David Toop’s “Haunted Weather,” “The Soundscape” by R. Murray Schaeffer, and a Dover Thrift Edition of the “Tao Te Ching.”

All in all, a great birthday. Thank you, everyone!

Saying goodbye to my twenties…

April 23, 2008

In a little over 8 hours, I’ll be thirty years old. Although I always have a good time making a tremendous fuss about my birthday– mostly for present-gathering purposes– the truth is my birthday doesn’t usually mean a whole lot to me. And while I haven’t gotten weepy or anything, I have to admit that thirty seems like a bigger deal somehow.

I’ve grown up quite a bit since 20, and a heck of a lot has changed. This time ten years ago, there was no Google. Seriously– reflect on that for a minute. I probably hit Google 300 times a day. What the hell was I using back then? Excite? iMacs were just coming out… now I have one my eight-year-old will barely bother with.

I’ve been through more crappy vehicles than you’d believe if I numbered them, buried three people and two dogs, crossed the country a few times, watched two kids take their first breath, lost half as many friends as I did cars, held about a half-dozen jobs, and personally spent at least a week in the hospital.

I don’t remember a lot of it. I’m not even sure I’d want to.

Mostly, I’ve learned to let go. I figured out that control was a big elusive carrot, and that I was a lot happier letting things come as they may. I found the mental flexibility to come to terms with the world’s absurdity, and started trying to live more in the moment– not just the lip service most folks pay it, either– but accepting the loveliness that comes with knowing that tomorrow simply does not exist.

“The crack of Doom / is coming soon / Let it come / it doesn’t matter”

I still haven’t quite made it to 30 proper yet. Ended up in the woods last night, in a deep culvert somewhere around the center of my block… dashing a flashlight about, whose failing battery cast a dim yellowness on my surroundings. I couldn’t see a thing, but I sure could hear my puppy, the aptly-named Squeaky. He was trapped in a neighbors garage somehow. So there I was, well past midnight, introducing myself to a guy named Randy– “I’m sorry to be on your porch so late, and I know this sounds crazy, but I think my puppy is in your garage.”

So it begins.

PS: Forgot to get me something for my big day? Make it up to me by recommending Startling Moniker to someone who wouldn’t ordinarily read such a thing, and leave me a comment. Thanks!