happy birthday to me
oh good, so I'm still in bloggy-land.
So I turn 31 today. As I got up for the 3rd time between 3 and 4 this morning, I felt pretty sorry for myself. "It's my birthday, dammit," I muttered to the mewling babe, as I barely resisted the urge to cram the pacifier down his throat and toss his swaddled heiny right out the window. As if I am owed something, just for showing up in the world. Hee hee.
We'd forgotten all such unpleasantness when we woke up for real around 6:30. Charming habit Gabriel has adopted, of waking up and cheerfully chortling to himself in his crib for 20 minutes or more as I pretend I'm still asleep under the comforter. And then when I finally walk in the door, he lays a big smile on me . And a poopy diaper. Inevitably. But that goofy gummy smile is something else.
Celebrations of the day include: buying a book at the quite adequate bookstore in the strip mall next to the grocery store. I picked out Annie Proulx' first volume of Wyoming Stories. I'm all excited to read Brokeback Mountain after being quite astounded by the movie. My mother-in-law has a story about Annie Proulx, about her health, actually, naturally. I guess she called the doctor's office where my MIL worked in Northern Colorado trying to get a referral of some sort. MIL says she was rather imperious and did not care about insurance. "I could buy this practice," or something like, were her words to poor, harried MIL on the line, trying to figure out where to send her . The rich/famous get harassed by the mundane details, just like the rest of us. They can just ignore the foolishness and still get what they need. Nice, that.
Have been promised Indian take-out for dinner by M. Am very looking forward. Will almost make up for the fact that M announced this morning he would be redeeming his Christmas gift cert for a massage today. I mean, true, I got it for him to get a nice massage at this lovely spa in Berkeley. But to finally find the time to work it in on MY birthday without inviting me along seems a bit mean. This is one of those things though, that M, being a man, won't get unless I bring it up. And I'm trying to be bigger, really, growing as a person... and so will repress it until I burst into tears later. Well, here's to growing.
So I turn 31 today. As I got up for the 3rd time between 3 and 4 this morning, I felt pretty sorry for myself. "It's my birthday, dammit," I muttered to the mewling babe, as I barely resisted the urge to cram the pacifier down his throat and toss his swaddled heiny right out the window. As if I am owed something, just for showing up in the world. Hee hee.
We'd forgotten all such unpleasantness when we woke up for real around 6:30. Charming habit Gabriel has adopted, of waking up and cheerfully chortling to himself in his crib for 20 minutes or more as I pretend I'm still asleep under the comforter. And then when I finally walk in the door, he lays a big smile on me . And a poopy diaper. Inevitably. But that goofy gummy smile is something else.
Celebrations of the day include: buying a book at the quite adequate bookstore in the strip mall next to the grocery store. I picked out Annie Proulx' first volume of Wyoming Stories. I'm all excited to read Brokeback Mountain after being quite astounded by the movie. My mother-in-law has a story about Annie Proulx, about her health, actually, naturally. I guess she called the doctor's office where my MIL worked in Northern Colorado trying to get a referral of some sort. MIL says she was rather imperious and did not care about insurance. "I could buy this practice," or something like, were her words to poor, harried MIL on the line, trying to figure out where to send her . The rich/famous get harassed by the mundane details, just like the rest of us. They can just ignore the foolishness and still get what they need. Nice, that.
Have been promised Indian take-out for dinner by M. Am very looking forward. Will almost make up for the fact that M announced this morning he would be redeeming his Christmas gift cert for a massage today. I mean, true, I got it for him to get a nice massage at this lovely spa in Berkeley. But to finally find the time to work it in on MY birthday without inviting me along seems a bit mean. This is one of those things though, that M, being a man, won't get unless I bring it up. And I'm trying to be bigger, really, growing as a person... and so will repress it until I burst into tears later. Well, here's to growing.
posted by cmm at 10:00 AM
2 Comments:
Happy Birthday, CMM. I love that we were born so close together. I love that you and I seem to have expectations on birthdays that never seem to come to pass - because we are Aquariae, possibly, who feel we are so special that the whole world should celebrate our births.
I wore orchids in my hair on my birhday. People commented and I got to say, "You see, it's my birthday today, so I'm wearing flowers in my hair." A cheap move, but I got a LOT of birthday wishes from people I don't know.
I don't think it's cheap, I think it's elegant. And, may I say, Happy Birthday to you!
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