The Gurly Life

Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans

I believe that is a line from a John Lennon song. [Scurries off to google it...] Yes, it's from a song called Beautful Boy, by John Lennon. The song, if I remember correctly, is about his son. But I'm not going to google that because the googly cycle is potentially endless.

I think the title for this post is a little overdramatic, but it's a good lead-in. As you may or may not remember, I have put aside my focus on relationships for other things, such as getting a summer tan and yoga. I determined that I've done what I need to do to complete my past relationships, the crazy is mostly handled except for very brief bursts (which thankfully no longer result in frantic calls to friends or lunatic calls to men), so now all there is to do is leave it alone. Which I have, for a number of weeks. Possibly months? I don't know, I haven't been paying much attention.

Now, however, I have a small burst of dating or some such, which means I am putting some attention back on the issue, if only temporarily. I have a date with guy X from it's just lunch, and am waiting to hear back about a time and day with guy X+1. On Sunday, apparently I have plans to hang out with Vince, the 21 year old Marine I met at the Westminster Relay For Life event. Really? Is that wise? I mean, it makes for good blogging, and there are certainly those who live vicariously through me (crazy, yes, but boring, never). But really, isn't it time for me to make some grown-up decisions?

...

HAHAHAHAHA! Who the hell am I kidding? Grown-up decisions?? That's for the birds. To hell with being a grown-up. I do my job well, I pay my bills, I obey the law. Other than that my whole life revolves around fun. If I'm not having fun, it's time to make some changes. My job is a blast, my friends are kookie and hilarious, my family are nutbags scattered all over the world (bless their hearts), and by god I'm going to enjoy my date with the 21 year old Marine, if it's one date or if it's 3 months until he goes to war. And if he pleases me I'll take him with me to Arrowhead in September.

Did I mention this is my 40th year celebration and I'm going to have fun all year? No? Well, that's what I'm doing. You can't beat me, so you might as well join me. Woot!

Birthday Quote 7.28.08

History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it. -- Winston Churchill

Birthday Quote 7.22.08

The young may know the rules, but we know the exceptions.

Birthday Quote 7.18.08

We have a lot to do . . . People don't undestand this. They think we're sitting around in rocking chairs, which isn't at all true. Why we don't even own a rocking chair. -- Sadie Delany, age 103, on her 101-year-old sister and herself.

365 self-portraits

So I decided to try this experiment, where I take a picture of myself every day for the next 365 days. It's narcissistic, but not as weird as taking a picture of my cats for the next 365 days.

Or is it?

I have the album on Flickr, but to make it easier to find if you ever get the hankering to see the photos, I've also created a photo album on this blog, and it's handily located in the left panel.

Actually, the world does stop

Right, Dee?

And, just since we're already here, today's Birthday Quote: People who say you're just as old as you feel are all wrong, fortunately. -- Russell Baker

Birthday Quote 7.13.08

The fact was I didn't want to look my age, but I didn't want to act the age I wanted to look either. I also wanted to grow old enough to undestand that sentence. -- Erma Bombeck

Cat butts!

Or, what I did on my birthday.

I began the day early, which turned out to be a good idea because I have never had a day go by so fast as yesterday did. Somehow the hours disappeared, it was very strange. The first thing I did was go to yoga class. Yoga always feels like it's not doing much in the moment, then the next day I'm sore. I need to exercise more. But that's another post.

I spent the morning at home, first having pancakes for breakfast, of course, and then blogging and reading other people's blogs. Then I went to Grauman's Chinese (where all the Hollywood stars have their foot and hand prints) to see Hellboy II, which was a lot of fun. If you like fast-paced fantasy/action, this is your movie. If you prefer Ingmar Bergman-type films, avoid it. Although there are some subtitles, due to some characters briefly speaking in (I think) Elvish, so if foreign language and subtitles are your requirement for a good time, this can be your justification for the guilty pleasure.

It was past 4 when I got home -- I told you it went by fast! -- and I just sat around relaxing some more. I read my camera manual, among other things. This is the manual for my awesome DSLR, the Nikon D80. It has so many functions it's crazy. I've read the manual before, but unless I use the function repeatedly, I forget from one time to the next, so I need a refresher course each time. I think it speaks to my dedication to photography that I actually take the time to figure out how to use my camera to its fullest potential. This dedication might not be borne out by the quality of my pictures, but I also don't spend nearly as much time practicing as I would like. Don't get me wrong, the camera is also very easy to use, its basic functions are straight-forward and easily accessible. What requires a little more attention is getting to know all the complex functions, all the stuff that I cannot do with my little camera. I've spent as long as an hour experimenting on one photograph to get the effect I want, often to no avail, but certainly learning and getting closer.

I had invited a small cadre of friends for dinner last night. I don't like large parties, especially if I'm hosting them, because it is impossible to spend more than 5 minutes talking to someone. The rest of the time is spent getting drinks, ice, food, replacing the toilet paper, saying hello, saying goodbye, etc. I prefer small groups where I can actually spend the time to talk with people.

To that end, last night I had dinner with Dee, Willow and Adam, and Fernanda. Another friend cancelled at the last minute due to lack of transportation, so she will be invited to the next one: this was the first of the planned montly mini dinner parties that I will have to celebrate my 40th year. Not surprisingly, I wore this shirt:

I don't look so great in this picture, but who cares. I'm thinking of a year-long photo project: a picture of me every day. Some I will take, some will be taken by others. I kinda dread it because most people just suck at taking photographs, but I think once they're all together it'll be fun to see the different styles and looks. And for anyone who doesn't know, that's Dee with me in this photo.

The idea was for everyone to be supercomfortable, so the instructions were to wear sweats or pj's. So, other than Adam who came straight for a mediation in Indio, we were all in various stages of informal-to-bedtime gear. Which makes Willow's musical birthday card extremely funny. Upon opening, the card plays a few refrains of this:

I believe the word you're looking for, once you stop laughing, is "Hardly..."

Willow knit me a wool scarf, which is soft and warm and lovely, and she wrote me a letter in which she expresses who I am to her and what our friendship means for her. You may not know this, but we hark back to the days of law school, when either one of us was a raving lunatic at any given moment, and the other's job was to talk the crazy one off the ledge. No law student is an island. Well, some are, but it doesn't go well for them as human beings, usually.

Here are Willow and Adam, and then Fernanda.

 

Fernanda brought me a lovely gerber daisy plant, seen here with Cricket -- who though looking cute was in fact just caught in the act of chewing on the leaves -- and some much needed Arbonne products.

And Dee, inspired genius that she is, got me some fridge magnets:

I am particularly grateful for the (FREE!) hairball magnet.  

Birthday quote 7.12.08

"I don't want ever to be a man," he said with passion. I want always to be a little boy, and to have fun." -- James M. Barrie, Peter Pan.

My point exactly!

Or, what I want for my birthday.

Some people die at twenty-five and aren't buried until they are seventy-five. -- Benjamin Franklin

I've had several conversations that begin like this: "Oh, you're turning 40. Well, your body just starts going downhill at 40, you might as well just face it, you're getting old." Yesterday, someone I work with thought the best way to wish me a happy birthday was to forecast the arrival of the day, very soon, when my nipples will be facing the floor. Nice. As an aside, I do not find complaints to be any kind of bonding experience, they just annoy me and make me want to leave.

Therefore, if you read this blog, please do not have this kind of conversation with me. Here's why: my grandmother will be 103 in January. Yes, 103. She's still pretty sharp and in good health. Given that both sides of the family have a decent life span, there is a high probability that I will live to about 116. Well, it is 116. Don't ask me how I know it, I just do. I therefore have another 66 years, give or take, left to go. If I start whining about how I'm getting old now, at 40, I have SIXTY + YEARS OF GETTING OLD AHEAD OF ME. I don't know about you, but I for one don't find this to be very appetizing.

I am not pretending that I can do physically what I could do at 15, but then at 15 I could not do what I did at 5. At 25 I could not do what I did at 5 or 15. So if the change in my body is supposed to be a measure of my getting old, then I might as well have died at about age 10. That's 100+ years of "getting old." Do you see the absurdity of the conversation? Talk about a crappy future to live into. And the worst part is that so many of us just buy into it like that's just what's so. More to the point, the conversation "I'm getting old" has us miss all the great things we gain as we get older: experience, strength, independence, stability, having ice cream for dinner if we want to, and so on.

Therefore, if you want to complain about your bodies deteriorating and your memory going and your energy fading, for the next 40, 50, or 60 years of your life, I say be my guest. I'm certainly not going to try to convince you that your words create your world. But please do me the kindness of not trying to drag me into that particular conversation, irrespective of your opinion about whether or not I'm getting old, because whether you like it or not, your words create my world.

And that's all I have to say about that.