Malala Yousafzai celebrated her 18th birthday by opening a girls’ school in Lebanon for Syrian refugees.
My 18th birthday I had a play rehearsal that I was running.
I turned 29 today. Hard to tell, right? (I know, I’m so damn youthful!)
I thought I’d share this (lovely) picture of me waiting for the candles to be lit with you lovely people.
The things I spent my day doing:
Thanks for helping make my bday awesome!
Happy reading and Writing, friends!
Today I had a weird preview of what it might be like to live on my own.
My parents came to visit because yesterday was my birthday and there was a driving ban on for most of the day and people couldn’t come tell me how awesome it is that I’m no longer twenty seven. Today they came to see me and take me out for a meal. My sister and her family already had plans to go up to Maine for the day and therefore weren’t around to join in the fun and distract the grandparents from their youngest child.
It was nice. I was a little surprised. I’ve eaten dinner with just my parents many times, but it was weirdly nice to have a nice meal at a restaurant with just the three of us. We could talk about things without interruption, there was no obligation to divide our attentions between siblings and grandbabies, we could just focus on each other, our meal, and talk. (Mostly we talked about my previous post and started debating Ms. Murphy’s stance versus the teachers having the ability to choose what books to have their students read; and Mom told me a story about one of my sisters having to read In Cold Blood for her junior year American Studies course and it freaking her out so much she slept in bed with our mother.) It was really nice to have an adult conversation with my parents while celebrating my birthday.
Afterwards we went back to my sister’s house for tea and cake and we kept chatting about things. I had to play hostess since I live here and they don’t and I know where things are. But even that was nice. It was nice to feel like I had command of a space (even if it’s not mine and it was only temporary). I thought to myself: “I could have my parents over like this if I had a place of my own and it would be awesome!”
Bottom line: I had a strange opportunity to know what it would be like to have a place of my own and I really liked it. Goal: set.
While I’ve mainly been writing expositorily lately rather than fictionally, I did write this on my friend’s Facebook wall yesterday for his birthday:
Friday night the Elephant went to a party in search of the Gorilla, but the Gorilla was nowhere to be found. And instead of getting to spend some time with her, the Elephant spent the entire night trying to dodge a Kangaroo and a Giraffe that kept wanting to talk to him about parasitic worms and My Chemical Romance, respectively.
The Elephant left the party early claiming he had a headache, which he did. He also wasn’t having any fun, disappointed she wasn’t there.
He thought the only thing to come out of the evening was him being stood up by a more than averagely attractive primate, but he surprised himself later that week when a coworker mentioned his daughter was listening to music played by musicians who wore black eyeliner and sang depressing songs about unrequited love and the Elephant said “Oh, yes, that’s called Emo.”
I’m pretty proud of it too. And it’s pretty obvious I just read Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk by David Sedaris.
Have had zero desire to write lately. Nothing original. Just stuff about books I’m reading, have read, and never want to read. Must get back to original writing …. and soon.
In other news it’s my birthday today. I’m celebrating by cashing in some Savings Bonds and doing Data Entry all night! Woo hoo!