32's Last Gasp Gently Morphs Into 33
So it's fucking 5:02am (!?)...HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!! I'm NOT gonna cry if I want to...but I don't want to. I hung out my window at midnight singing to myself. I also did a shot of Jameson's about 3am. In the last hour, I came back from a half-hour walk, moved my car to a better spot, rearranged my arsenal of videotapes so one of my piles of shit could fit by them and get off the fucking floor, dusted parts of my room, and now begin my blog. What I've always loved about March 12 being my birthday is how it's truly one of the very few times of the year where it can either be 80 and sunny or 8 with a blizzard, and anything in between. Last year during my night-before walk, it was snowing -- an inch or two, tops. Now...low 50s. Delightful! I went to view the NYC skyline and just generally pondered. Looked up at fancy loft apts and wondered why I'M not living there?!?! But no feeling sorry for myself. Little time for that. I'm full of ambition and drive. Lord, I shouldn't write quite SO late...I have too much to say, too little time, and too little brain cells left to properly convey my thoughts. It was a great, soothing, solitary walk. Like spring outside. I walked down the middle of the street...backwards briefly....staring back at NYC...and yearning to dip my feet into the Pacific within the year. Yearning for a lot.
It was a good day...despite the relatively brief period when I feared I was having a heart attack behind the wheel -- my prophecy coming true. More on that in a minute. So I got up JUST as the roomie left. It's often like that if he leaves early enough for wherever and I wake late enough...12:30pm was the time today. I DID go to bed at 6am...as I will today, if not later. So I got to enjoy a delightful breakfast in peace. I even had a "special treat" -- apple and cinnamon oatmeal. Did I mention the PEACEful part of that? He stayed gone for a good 2 hours...just as I prepped to go! YAY! I paid a bill, then decided to check out an easier way to get to the nearby light rail on foot. Sure, I have to dodge lanes of traffic, but dammit, if it saves time.... I WAS gonna walk or even jog (!) the Jersey City waterfront, but I randomly decided to go the OTHER way...and drove up the, er, coast to Edgewater, checking out all the development...my main goal being to land my ass at Barnes & Noble to seek out an LA Times. No dice on the paper...but I DID find myself fascinated by SURFER Magazine. Page after page of awesome waves, palm trees, sunrises, sunsets...and surfer fashion. I decided then and there I want to totally revamp my look...officially become Surf Dude. I will first seek out Hurley's Puerto Rican boardshorts. I REALLY more and more like the idea of whiplash-inducing change. Just drastically overhaul every motherfucking thing anyone thinks they know about me. OOOOO, the fun! Ok, so that's a tad dramatic, but even doing that to a lesser degree would be wildly entertaining. Anyway, I tore myself from SURFER to the travel section, where I immersed myself in guides on SoCal. I even took a cue from the rest of the goddamn store and parked my ass on the floor. A few loud fucks, particularly the ones on their cells, annoyed, but overall it was a shockingly relaxing bookstore visit...not to mention informative and inspiring. And THEN...
NIGHTMARE fucking traffic. I will NEVER travel River Road again unless it's 3am. EVER. The scope of the traffic was amazing. TOO much development, people!! It was soon after I was fully in it that...well, i'm just not sure...I got edgy and nervous and kept trying to take deep breaths. No pain. No gasping for breath. But I DID make sure my cell was in my lap JUST in case. I wasn't even that pissed at the traffic, so it's not like I was enraged into a heart attack. I GUESS it was a mild panic attack, a la Tony Soprano, minus smashing things from fainting. I've had these before. All self-diagnosed, of course. Briefly, I worried I'd die JUST before my birthday. It WAS a bit scary, especially being at the wheel of a car. But I think that actually added to it, as the traffic DID start getting on my nerves, as I JUST wanted to get out into fresh air. And once home...I was fine. As soon as I got out of the car, it was like I exhaled. What the FUCK?! I had ANOTHER frozen pizza for My Last Meal, another cup of tea, and settled in for the night. The roomie never came back even! This HAS been a great day! I only pray he doesn't come home till after I've had my Birthday Breakfast. Sonofabitch. What else? Hmm, as it nears 6am...oy...oh, thanks to Erik for my first bday greetings. Bless his heart extra for commenting on my "Hulk-like" physique...well, more so wondering if I still had it. HA. Um, YEAH! You bet I do! I also cut my hair a bit today. And took some self-pics to (hopefully) document my stunning youthful beauty. Now we're really slumming at the bottom of the barrel of personal musings. See, I just feel like I had a couple other Big Things to say. Damn. As dawn is now breaking over Manhattan...I pray I'm not in this same apt, with this same roomie, next year. PLEASE!! And that's the LEAST of my Big Wishes. Oh, yeah, I was born at 3:41am...i'm pretty sure. SO perfect. I was on my walk at that time.
So, 32...I hardly knew ya. It wasn't a bad year. I'd have preferred living alone on a half-million dollar salary. But it was what it was. And I did what I did...or didn't. Over and done. Successes...they ain't always so easily measured. Most think The Job, The Car, The House, The Spouse, The Baby. But I had a few successes. I'll hold those dear. And I DID so like the very number 32, lol. So EVEN and solid. Now I have to deal with an odd numbered year. On the other hand, I vastly enjoyed 11 and 22...so I pray 33 continues that numerical Good Times pattern. It's 6:06am...time to put 32 to rest. Farewell, and thank you.
It was a good day...despite the relatively brief period when I feared I was having a heart attack behind the wheel -- my prophecy coming true. More on that in a minute. So I got up JUST as the roomie left. It's often like that if he leaves early enough for wherever and I wake late enough...12:30pm was the time today. I DID go to bed at 6am...as I will today, if not later. So I got to enjoy a delightful breakfast in peace. I even had a "special treat" -- apple and cinnamon oatmeal. Did I mention the PEACEful part of that? He stayed gone for a good 2 hours...just as I prepped to go! YAY! I paid a bill, then decided to check out an easier way to get to the nearby light rail on foot. Sure, I have to dodge lanes of traffic, but dammit, if it saves time.... I WAS gonna walk or even jog (!) the Jersey City waterfront, but I randomly decided to go the OTHER way...and drove up the, er, coast to Edgewater, checking out all the development...my main goal being to land my ass at Barnes & Noble to seek out an LA Times. No dice on the paper...but I DID find myself fascinated by SURFER Magazine. Page after page of awesome waves, palm trees, sunrises, sunsets...and surfer fashion. I decided then and there I want to totally revamp my look...officially become Surf Dude. I will first seek out Hurley's Puerto Rican boardshorts. I REALLY more and more like the idea of whiplash-inducing change. Just drastically overhaul every motherfucking thing anyone thinks they know about me. OOOOO, the fun! Ok, so that's a tad dramatic, but even doing that to a lesser degree would be wildly entertaining. Anyway, I tore myself from SURFER to the travel section, where I immersed myself in guides on SoCal. I even took a cue from the rest of the goddamn store and parked my ass on the floor. A few loud fucks, particularly the ones on their cells, annoyed, but overall it was a shockingly relaxing bookstore visit...not to mention informative and inspiring. And THEN...
NIGHTMARE fucking traffic. I will NEVER travel River Road again unless it's 3am. EVER. The scope of the traffic was amazing. TOO much development, people!! It was soon after I was fully in it that...well, i'm just not sure...I got edgy and nervous and kept trying to take deep breaths. No pain. No gasping for breath. But I DID make sure my cell was in my lap JUST in case. I wasn't even that pissed at the traffic, so it's not like I was enraged into a heart attack. I GUESS it was a mild panic attack, a la Tony Soprano, minus smashing things from fainting. I've had these before. All self-diagnosed, of course. Briefly, I worried I'd die JUST before my birthday. It WAS a bit scary, especially being at the wheel of a car. But I think that actually added to it, as the traffic DID start getting on my nerves, as I JUST wanted to get out into fresh air. And once home...I was fine. As soon as I got out of the car, it was like I exhaled. What the FUCK?! I had ANOTHER frozen pizza for My Last Meal, another cup of tea, and settled in for the night. The roomie never came back even! This HAS been a great day! I only pray he doesn't come home till after I've had my Birthday Breakfast. Sonofabitch. What else? Hmm, as it nears 6am...oy...oh, thanks to Erik for my first bday greetings. Bless his heart extra for commenting on my "Hulk-like" physique...well, more so wondering if I still had it. HA. Um, YEAH! You bet I do! I also cut my hair a bit today. And took some self-pics to (hopefully) document my stunning youthful beauty. Now we're really slumming at the bottom of the barrel of personal musings. See, I just feel like I had a couple other Big Things to say. Damn. As dawn is now breaking over Manhattan...I pray I'm not in this same apt, with this same roomie, next year. PLEASE!! And that's the LEAST of my Big Wishes. Oh, yeah, I was born at 3:41am...i'm pretty sure. SO perfect. I was on my walk at that time.
So, 32...I hardly knew ya. It wasn't a bad year. I'd have preferred living alone on a half-million dollar salary. But it was what it was. And I did what I did...or didn't. Over and done. Successes...they ain't always so easily measured. Most think The Job, The Car, The House, The Spouse, The Baby. But I had a few successes. I'll hold those dear. And I DID so like the very number 32, lol. So EVEN and solid. Now I have to deal with an odd numbered year. On the other hand, I vastly enjoyed 11 and 22...so I pray 33 continues that numerical Good Times pattern. It's 6:06am...time to put 32 to rest. Farewell, and thank you.
posted by Gregoire at 2:01 AM
1 Comments:
Brilliant!! I couldn't have said it any better myself, and I've lived it. I've turned 33 and survived to tell the tale, and 34 too. I'll admit 35 is scary, maybe not as scary as 30, but scary nontheless. I'm sure you'll hit it with grace and style. Anyway this will be my last comment for a while. It's been a good few day's...I almost feel as though we have been room-mates.....in a cyber sort of way. The next time I log on to a computer I'll be somewhere off of Hollywood Blvd. -the mystery blog responder
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