7:52am, Tuesday – December 8, 2009
I simply refused to go to the gym this morning. I opted instead for a quick trip to pour some food into the cat dishes, pee and then a fast slipper-laden shuffle back to my blanket cave. And my thoughts.
Have you ever been kept awake at night by simply Me, Myself and I? Those three bitches in my life – this is where I vent them. They’re not really for anyone else’s consumption and aside from the issue-specific emails that circle between myself and less than a handful of girlfriends, I don’t really share. It’s easier to make people laugh (at life, at me) than it is to let them see.
So I lay inside my blanket cave and play Othello with the three bitches at 4:30am.
In two days, I’ll be 37. If I had a boyfriend or husband, I’d issue the missive that he could officially trade me in for two 18’s with some room to spare. My beneath-the-blanket thoughts this morning brought to light that I’m sitting on the almost eve of:
- 37 years of being a pain in my parents’ collective ass
- 30 years since my family moved to Houston, smuggling me onto a plane covered with concealer since I had the chicken pox and they couldn’t delay the flight
- 14 years since I married for the first time
- 10 since I married for the second (stop bracing for it – there hasn’t been a third)
- 10 since I moved to Japan
- 8.5 since I returned to the States
- 7 since I moved to L.A.
- 4 since I moved to Las Vegas (FML)
- 3.5 since I officially opened RedheadWriting LLC
- 3 since I started ice climbing
- 2 since I climbed Mt. Rainier
- 1.2 since I climbed Kilimanjaro
- 1 since I moved to Denver
- and less than 6 weeks since I discovered track cycling and told my crack dealer he’s gonna need to find something stronger to compete.
I sat this past weekend at Cali’s birthday dinner, helping a new friend ring in her 27 years among her dearest friends. What I’ve done to be included in such a group…cheese and crackers. Slap me and call me Sally. Whatever it is, I’m grateful. But I sat across the table from two couples so obviously in love, I left dinner with not only a full belly, but full heart and a greater sense of possibility than with which I came.
I sit here on the almost eve of 37 and think: I should really treat my Wants better. When did I come to settle and feel I didn’t deserve more? In my heart, my house, my mind…I have all that I Need. The Want side of things, well, has been lacking. Sometimes people cross your path and give you a glimpse of why you’ve been holding out for more in the Want department.
I thank Terry and Kia, Gwen and Joel, a Caligater and Miss Glasscock for all contributing to that glimpse. Terry and Kia, celebrating news of their first child on the way (the future Cabeen likely being the warmest attendee at the dinner on such a brisk night), Joel and Gwen’s glances, kisses and hand holdings that perhaps they thought went unnoticed (but for which I had a seat front and center), Miss Glasscock’s well-timed quips and story of friendship with The Caligater borne on no less than contact lenses and a bus ride. Cali – a fresh 27-years-old – basking in smiles and squeeeees after assembling a most eclectic group whose conversations went nowhere politically correct.
Sitting at that birthday table, while not mine, was an incredible gift for my impending 37th year. Needs – they change with less frequency. I think I’ve done a pretty good job of lining those up in the past four of my 37 years. The Wants, though…those refine with time. It’s really lovely to not have to speak and simply observe others having received what they Want. It’s certainly helped me refine my own list. A lovely gift on this almost eve.
And the image above – very Biblical, no? But I am almost Eve. A creation in progress, shaped by thought, action, inspiration and hope. And I’m pretty sure that, while half of you are looking at the elbows, the other half get it when I say I’m enjoying being almost Eve. I never really Want to get there completely, all the way to Eve. Do you?