I've just taken a four day weekend for my birthday. It has been for the most part lovely, with some bumps.
Thursday was the best. A crowd of friends came to Skosh's to celebrate with me and saw to it that I was well inebriated. Stayed over at Jami's, watched tv into the wee hours with Mark and back home in the morning stopping for a quick breakfast burrito from Pepe's.
Friday, I stayed home, watched Waitress, which was ok, several episodes of Cadfael and the baseball game (Dodgers won.)
Saturday, I went up to the Norton Simon looking for inspiration but I can't say that I found any. Still it was a beautiful trip and I took some pictures. Stayed in again that night. More baseball (Dodgers lost) and reading. Oh and also watched some of the Olympics.
Sunday, lunch with Maile and then to the Bistro for the afterparty for Erika's wedding. I must say that it was very nice to be among people again.
Today was awesome. Terri took me for my first mani-pedi and it was glorious. Completely pampering and my toes are pretty! Now if only there were someone I could dazzle with my flirty feet. Then dinner and conversation. Wonderful. I watched The Savages when I got home and did my best not to get depressed, although I want to marry Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Now watching Sense and Sensibility so that I can dream of Alan Rickman tonight.
But let us speak of birthdays. They are worse than New Year's Eve, for they are one's personal fresh start of the next solar cycle. I fought all weekend against reflecting on the past and fearing for the future, trying not to place any significance on this arbitrary number that is supposed to be a defining factor in my life. I feel like I am standing in the eye of the tornado of other people's lives, wondering when the storm will sweep me off of my feet, and if and when it does, will it lift me to the heavens or bash my brains against the side of a barn? But this self indulgent (not to mention self pitying) rumination is useless and defeating. Entertainment is my only salvation.
And so the the long slow death of the year begins. The hot dry winds will be blowing soon, the air is already tinged with smoky scents and the night grows longer. I yearn for the fall when the sultry nights will no longer by piquing my romantic sensibilities and I can retire to my books and poetry.
Thank you to all my spectacular friends who made this a remarkable birthday. It really meant a lot to me to be so thought of. As you can see, I am quite dependent you all to keep me from the yawning jaws of melancholia.
With love.
Thursday was the best. A crowd of friends came to Skosh's to celebrate with me and saw to it that I was well inebriated. Stayed over at Jami's, watched tv into the wee hours with Mark and back home in the morning stopping for a quick breakfast burrito from Pepe's.
Friday, I stayed home, watched Waitress, which was ok, several episodes of Cadfael and the baseball game (Dodgers won.)
Saturday, I went up to the Norton Simon looking for inspiration but I can't say that I found any. Still it was a beautiful trip and I took some pictures. Stayed in again that night. More baseball (Dodgers lost) and reading. Oh and also watched some of the Olympics.
Sunday, lunch with Maile and then to the Bistro for the afterparty for Erika's wedding. I must say that it was very nice to be among people again.
Today was awesome. Terri took me for my first mani-pedi and it was glorious. Completely pampering and my toes are pretty! Now if only there were someone I could dazzle with my flirty feet. Then dinner and conversation. Wonderful. I watched The Savages when I got home and did my best not to get depressed, although I want to marry Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Now watching Sense and Sensibility so that I can dream of Alan Rickman tonight.
But let us speak of birthdays. They are worse than New Year's Eve, for they are one's personal fresh start of the next solar cycle. I fought all weekend against reflecting on the past and fearing for the future, trying not to place any significance on this arbitrary number that is supposed to be a defining factor in my life. I feel like I am standing in the eye of the tornado of other people's lives, wondering when the storm will sweep me off of my feet, and if and when it does, will it lift me to the heavens or bash my brains against the side of a barn? But this self indulgent (not to mention self pitying) rumination is useless and defeating. Entertainment is my only salvation.
And so the the long slow death of the year begins. The hot dry winds will be blowing soon, the air is already tinged with smoky scents and the night grows longer. I yearn for the fall when the sultry nights will no longer by piquing my romantic sensibilities and I can retire to my books and poetry.
Thank you to all my spectacular friends who made this a remarkable birthday. It really meant a lot to me to be so thought of. As you can see, I am quite dependent you all to keep me from the yawning jaws of melancholia.
With love.
2 comments:
"will it lift me to the heavens or bash my brains against the side of a barn?"
That is the best line ever...
Hang in there darlin! Its f-ing tough as hell to battle this world, but dammit you and I are going to go down fighting!!!
Love you and Happy Birthday!
You can dazzle me with your flity feet Baby!...I dare ya! ;)
Glad your b-day was a good one.
Post a Comment