Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Happy Birthday Kid

Ahh, birthday season. Actually, it’s always birthday season, but it seems that this time of the year is always chalk full of the suckers. The pathetic thing is, I am horrible about remembering them. My mother’s, my father’s; they are forgotten nearly every year. My two sister’s birthdays, I usually know them down to the month. I am a squatter in my grandma’s basement and only know her birthday because it is a key component in bypassing the Guggenheim-like security systems here. I only have one or two friends, and their birthdays are as foreign to me as a three-minute mile. Every now and then, something happens with someone and for some reason or another, I will remember their birthday. Beau’s is on tax day. Wenke’s is close to Super Bowl Sunday. Candace’s birthday has something to do with the square of four. My point is, these mystical and memorial days occupy my memory like a collage of newspaper articles and pictures, and after this many years, it will probably be like that for the rest of my life.

So here’s the key – if you want me to remember your birthday, our options are really limited. Firstly, if something really memorable happens on that day. Do you think that anyone whose birthday is September 11th ever has any problem with people remembering their day? Secondly, if it rolls off the tongue or is a weird mathematical phenomena. That crap will stick in my mind like peanut butter on a cracker.

Another way, though not my favorite, is to make me cry or piss me off. I always remember birthdays from people who hurt me. I’m not sure why, I promise that I don’t remember just so I can do some voodoo stuff or wish any ill on you. If something bad happens on your birthday, don’t blame me; blame your own karma or something. Believe me, bad stuff has happened to me on my birthday; I had to put my cat Coltrane to sleep on my 30th birthday.

This brings me back around to the original topic, because there is one birthday that I do not ever forget. I may not remember it until the day before, but I always remember it. That is my birthday.

I’m getting old.

I feel it more and more every day.

My skin is getting loose around my chin and my hair is growing slower.

I no longer make decisions based on a type of alcohol or the opening band, rather based on how late I will be awake versus how early I must wake up or how interesting of a story I may be able to make of it.

I care about colors and art, wine and wine glasses, black and white or sepia, NPR or Philip Glass, eating right and exercise. Quite frankly, it’s disgusting.

I rarely receive gifts any more, which is fine with me; with gifts come guilt, because I know that more often than not I will not remember the giver’s birthday.

One thing that has changed is that I now can give gifts to myself. Which, as everyone knows are the best gifts, which brings me to the long drawn out topic of my gift from me to me this year. I’ll give you a hint: it’s a house….

No big deal, just a house. I saw it, gasped at the price and nearly immediately made an offer on it, written on a piece of paper and handed over to the agent with shaking hands and a drop of sweat in the corner and three weeks ago, on my birthday, my offer was accepted. Probably not because it was my birthday, but it didn’t hurt.

So here it is, November 14th, nearly a month after my birthday and I’m finally letting the cat out of the bag. Why wait so long? Karma McJinxy-Me kept me from saying much. Inspection, loan application, appraisal, figuring out if I could really afford this behemoth and other things that cause me to fret daily, nightly, and ever so rightly. So at long last here it is and rather than bore everyone with specifics about when it was built (a long long time ago) or how big it is (huge) or what neighborhood it’s in (a really cool one) or when I’ll actually be moving in (unfortunately, not for several weeks), I’ll just put some pictures up and cross my fingers and pray that by outing myself for being a homo…wner I’m not jinxing myself further.

Happy birthday me. Wont you come and play?




5 comments:

Libby said...

bellisimo bellisimo! please tell me the dogs are included in the purchase price! i can't wait to see it in person...and cut the ribbon officially opening my room for business. for my birthday (december 21st...also frank zappa's birthday and the first day of winter, last day of sagatarius and shortest day of the year) i want you to get yourself a new bed....and put the old one in my room. happy birthday to both of us. good work mama! keep me updated on EVERYTHING! tell grandma hi. i miss you! xoxo

Brenton said...

Nice digs. I looked at a couple foursquares as well. I really like them. It looks pretty well updated, less work for you eh?

LezLynn said...

dang y'all. first of all, sorry i missed your birthday. as much as i loooove celebrating them, i can't remember if my name has two capital letters sometimes. secondly, could you ask the current owners if they could leave one of those dog beds for when i'm squatting on your back deck since i'll be homeless soon? libby can have her room to herself.
my birthday is oh five one five. it's the day before george brett's birthday and the day before redd foxx died. uh, cool huh?

p.s. congrats again!! i think i've sufficiently jocked you in previous emails and IM conversations. haha but here's more! the house is the shizzle. proud of you papa!!!

Lucas said...

thanks guys! i'm quite proud of it. this post was a great way to get notes and notes from people about how to remember their birthday. here's the skinny though: i will still probably forget, but i totally dont mind if you tell me it's your birthday ON your birthday, that's not cheap and i wont bust your chops on it.

Joshua said...

When is the kegger...

:)