anywhere but here

I had a really great birthday yesterday. (Yes, it was my birthday. Hi! Why thank you, yes, it was wonderful.) I got the first part of my amazon loot (purchased with a $100 gift certificate from the grandmother) and I got taken out to lunch by WorkBuddy and another co-worker brought me a little pot of red gerberas (my favorite! How did you know? No, really.) and then WorkBuddy and I went out for Mexican martinis after work. I finished the night with a slice of leftover strawberry shortcake. Quite nice.

Since my birthday is in May, I use it as a kind of mid-year review. New Year's, I sit back and wonder, "dude, what the fuck did I DO this year?" In May, I tend to think of it more as, "wow, another year older...have I learned anything at all?"

The answer this year seems to be no.

Oh, I'm sure I've picked up some sort of wisdom just from walking through the world for another 365 (366? this was a leap year, right?) days, things like hey, don't walk across the liquor store parking lot on your from the bus stop on Monday morning, because there will be puke. And things like stop, just stop buying string cheese if you have teenagers in your house, because you will never get to eat any of it. Resistance is futile.

But I haven't learned anything useful. I haven't picked up any new skills, I haven't learned any languages or even how to cook anything new and nifty. Well, OK, that last part isn't entirely true, because I finally got around to making that cream of chicken/soup/rice casserole that every mom makes. Add a little onion, worchestire and garlic, top with cheese? Good shit, man.

I haven't written a book. (Well, Laura, do you WANT to write a book? Shut up.) I haven't finished any knitting projects, I haven't lost weight, I haven't even taken any pictures of anything. I have just sort of drifted from age 36 to 37 and I fucking hate it.

Ok, Ok...I...um. I planted some tomato plants!! And I actually have one, little teeny green tomato growing now.

I started taking the bus, which means I've done a lot more reading; I finally read To Kill a Mockingbird. My, what a lovely book.*

The bus has been really great. Obviously, I'm not having to (as frequently) feed my car the liquid gold that has obviously replaced the boring old dinosaur juice that gas stations used to sell. Also, in the morning and in the afternoon I get an uninterrupted hour of reading time - in the morning I have a nice little 20 minute walk with multiple coffee opportunities between my stop and work. I've been getting to work in a good mood every day (um, no guarantees on the quality of my mood once I've been here for an hour) and in the afternoon, I don't get home exhausted and in need of a fishbowl of wine and a nap before I can consider cooking dinner. Just a regular glass will do.

Which leads me to wonder a couple of things. 1)If this is what Austin traffic does to a person, what are people like in cities with truly disgusting traffic, like Dallas and L.A. and Congestionville, USA? Ick. And 2)it's just Austin traffic, which as I just said is not really that bad, comparatively speaking. So...am I just a big goddamn weinie. Nevermind, don't answer that.

Some random things that I found on the internet today, between various work-related tasks that, no matter how many I do, never seem to make a dent in my list. Perhaps because I spend the time between tasks looking for random tidbits instead of doing another task. Anyway:

From Esquire's list of 75 things every man should know how to do:

58. Avoid boredom. You have enough to eat. You can move. This must be acknowledged as a kind of freedom. You don't always have to buy things, put things in your mouth, or be delighted.

72. Stock an emergency bag for the car.
Blanket. Heavy flashlight. Hand warmers. Six bottles of water. Six packs of beef jerky. Atlas. Reflectors. Gloves. Socks. Bandages. Neosporin. Inhaler. Benadryl. Motrin. Hard candy. Telescoping magnet. Screwdriver. Channel-locks. Crescent wrench. Ski hat. Bandanna.

From Mighty Girls archives:

manque--unfulfilled or frustrated in the realization of one's ambitions or capabilities

somatize--to express psychological conflict through bodily symptoms

The more interest you take in your wardrobe, the more you’ll realize that caring too much about what people think can be the kiss of death.

On that last note, I think I'm going to stop at DSW on the way home (park and ride, baby, park and ride) and look for that pair of red converse low tops that for the past two weeks have seemed like the perfect thing to go with half of my wardrobe and still get me to work comfortably.

Ta.


*Obviously, the subject matter is not all that lovely, but it's beautifully written, so nyah.