I Accidentally Invited Reddit…

Do you guys remember this blog entry where I’d invited everyone I knew to a party and no one came? And I was devastated about it?

So I was on Reddit, and someone asked “Fellow Redditors, what is the cruelest thing ever done to you that you will never forget?” and I told them about that picnic… and now a whole bunch of Redditors might descend on Colorado for my 30th birthday party next October…

omg-what-have-i-done-thumb

I wasn’t asking for this, but the internet doesn’t care what you’re asking for… sometimes it just dumps things on you, and in this case it dumped SO MUCH LOVE AND SUPPORT AND PEOPLE WANTING TO BRING ME PIÑATAS AND TIRAMISU.

It’s very much overwhelming, but in a nice way…

It turns out that a lot of people have thrown parties and no one showed up. A lot of similar stories came from people who this happened to as kids, and one girl even got stood up by everyone she knew for her bridal shower. BRIDAL SHOWER. That’s just wrong… So wrong…

I don’t know if this is going to continue to be an ongoing thing, or just a note in my blog that never amounted to anything… but one person was talking about creating a subreddit called /PseudophunBirthday… so I guess we shall see what happens with it.

I’m not opposed to this gathering, but I also have no idea how to plan it… So I guess I’m just gonna see what happens…

But like… this is probably the best thing to happen to me on the internet in a long time.

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Happy Birthday To Me

I thought I had successfully ghosted D2, so as to spare us both the fallout of actual confrontation. Regardless of if you believe my motives, I believe my motives. I thought it had worked, but I got a message from his yesterday… and I couldn’t not respond. He asked to take me to dinner for my birthday. I told him maybe next week. While I don’t want to be his best friend, it doesn’t mean we can be friends with a good bit of space. I just have to guard myself. I am what’s important, and I have to remember that.

Saturday, Mom and I went to the Curiosities and Oddities Expo, thrown by the Punk Rock Flee Market. It was neat, but there were SO MANY people. The Fox St. Compound is a lot smaller when it’s filled with hundreds of people, and while I had fun and saw some cool stuff, I definitely feel like sales were lost just because there were exhibits I couldn’t even get up to see. I mean, let’s be real, I’m the type of person that would love to buy your obscure taxidermy, wet specimens, and various things made of dead animals, people, or whatever. I saw some cute things, some unsettling things… but in general, it was a lot of us trying to dodge the crowd and not lose each other. One of the vendors, The Room of Lost Things, is a brick+mortor shop in a nearby art district. I told Mom that maybe we could just go to the art district and look around the store, as well as others in the area, like Flossy McGrew’s.

On our way back home, we stopped for lunch at Pappadeux. It’s about the only place in Colorado you can get really real, super great seafood. I don’t know how they do it, but their plates are on point if you’re looking for a seafood joint in Colorado. I also always forget how pretty the place is. They have this giant courtyard made of stone and features and it’s just lovely, guys. So lovely. We got a shrimp cocktail and some lobster, shrimp, and pork eggrolls for an appetizer, because why not? For lunch I ordered the lunch portion of the Cajun Combo, which is blackened catfish on a bed of dirty rice served with shrimp creole on a bed of white rice. Lots of rice. In spite of it being a lunch portion, it was fucking huge. Mom got fried catfish and shrimp. Also huge. We had enough sense to stop about halfway through, but then we ordered bread pudding… because Birthday Pappadeux. It was amazing!

Overall it was a really nice day. Afterwards, I went home to recover from my food coma and get ready to go out. Since I got the costume, I needed to wear it, so I went to a Halloween party at Scruffy Murphy’s. I dressed as a Steampunk Air Ship Captain, and ended up heading down early because A, parking, but 2, the dogs kept trying to sit on me.

So, I’m sitting in this bar, awkwardly, and I ordered the first thing I saw on tap, because I’m awkward, and it’s an IPA called Space Dust, but as I do this my bad ass steampunk skull cane falls and smacks the guy next to me. I, in my infinite wisdom of social interactions, froze like a deer in headlights. Fortunately for me, this gent bent down and picked up my cane, and just went, “That’s heavy! You could hurt someone with that. Where’d you get it?” And thus a conversation began.

This is really odd for me. I’m not the kind of person to talk to attractive men in bars. I’m the type to sit quietly and awkwardly in a corner until my friends show up or I get depressed and go home. So, I did my best to be cordial, normal, and interesting. I thought I did well, but I haven’t heard from him since… although I know where he is every Sunday. He’s a devout Catholic, apparently, and goes to confession at 3pm and mass at 5pm every Sunday at the Cathedral Basilica in downtown Denver. I don’t plan on stalking him, interesting though he was. It’s so rare that I talk to someone, and even more rare that their first question is what my favorite book is… to which I had no read good answer, for I love so many books. Still, he has my number and I asked him to let me take him to a nice speak easy, so he can contact me if he wants. If not, I’m not going to die.

Bird showed up and I mostly left the guy alone and just enjoyed my Bird. We danced. We had a couple drinks, and we both went home around midnight. I had a great time! And I was really glad that my bestie came out with me. We have ups and downs, but at the end of the day she really is one of my best friends.

Sunday we had to come into work. There’s just too much to do and new girl wasn’t catching on like we wanted. It turns out that it’s good we came in because Monday morning new girl up and quit on us, just two days before month end. What a bitch.

One the way home we stopped at Safeway, and my stomach freaked out. It hurt and I thought I was going to vomit all over. I came home, and after I ate some chicken, because I hadn’t eaten all day, that’s exactly what happened. I was VIOLENTLY ill all evening, all night, and half the morning. I couldn’t even get up the next morning, and when I finally hauled into work I was only able to stay for an hour because my whole body hurt like I’d been beaten, presumably because that’s how you feel after shitting and vomiting out your insides for 24 hours. Fortunately, whatever this ordeal was, it seems to have passed.

My birthday was just a day at work, but the office girls made it nice. One brought green chili, one brought cake, one bought me flowers. It was a lovely little affair. We worked late, to compensate for the lack of a biller, and then I went home and watched The Pagemaster.

It wasn’t an epic birthday, but it’s notable because I didn’t have a breakdown or a crisis or any kind of negative reaction. My friend Mel is pregnant, and Lindsey is engaged, D1 is going to run for congress… and I’m just here, doing the best I can, and that’s enough for once.

Welcome to the last year of my 20s… I don’t expect it to be eventful, but maybe it could be pleasant.

Life & The Year Of Content

I made a hard decision, and I ghosted D2.

It’s not an easy thing to decide to cut someone out of your life, but I couldn’t deal with our one-sided friendship. Things were always about him. We were always at his house. We hung out with his friends if we did go out. We talked about HIS illness, HIS treatment, HIS problems. I guess I thought that eventually the newness of his diagnosis would wear off and we could just be people who were friends. It just never happened. His newest relapse and hospital stay proved this. He’s not where I am and he’s not going to be there any time soon. So, for my own mental health, I cut him out.

I feel like this is the part where I’m supposed to say that I miss him, or that things have been harder without him, or something… but just the opposite is true. I’ve been happier, and I’ve even been doing things with other people. It’s like a weight has been lifted, and maybe it has.

I’d mentioned learning to play D&D last entry, and I’m still working on that. It only took me a year to do it… if you ca believe I’ve been thinking of learning since last year. Cat had me, her friend Haley, and my friend Bren over to play my little game. It was only supposed to last a couple of hours, but apparently I overdid my little game, and it went on for six hours and we still aren’t done. I still don’t have all the nuances of the rules down, and I think I’m not making the characters do things exactly right, but we’re having fun. If there’s a question of if someone can do a thing, and I don’t know the technical rule, I just make them roll against me for it. I hope to get better at actual rules later… but I might switch to Pathfinder rules… D&D has really technical rules… maybe Pathfinder is a little easier? (I don’t know… tell me if you know.)

Last week D1 was in town! I saw him for an evening at Heidi’s place. It’s good to see him. He looks great. He’s happy. He’s all around doing good shit with his life and enjoying it. We heard a little more about the Rabbi, which was neat, and I really enjoyed seeing him. Also, Heidi invited me over every Thursday to watch Supernatural. So… unexpected win.

I’ve known Heidi since high school. We were never really FRIENDS, but we were never really NOT FRIENDS either. We just kind of knew each other and never hung out without other people around for social lubricant. That’s weird, because Heidi and I have always been kind of similar. We’re both introverted nerds who like people but often hole up and don’t see anyone because we’re hermity. Being invited over for the new season of Supernatural is really cool, and I like Heidi, so I’m excited to have a weekly thing. Also, it’s not on a Friday or Saturday, so that still leaves weekends open! She also lent me a book, so I gave her one back. I dunno how long this will last, but I’m excited to do a thing with someone.

I also went to my first book club meeting on Monday. My friend Evan has been badgering me to come to his book club, because he is a rather hermity, socially awkward human being, and he goes to socialize and read books he otherwise would not. I don’t really like reading books I otherwise wouldn’t, but they read a book that was already on my reading list, so I read it and showed up. I nearly had a panic attack walking in the door, but I honestly had a good time. I’m gonna read the next book and go again, I think. Would I like it more if all the books were scifi and horror? Yes, but this is a start, and maybe I can find another book club later, or even start one of my own. In general, I’m proud to have done a thing.

This weekend, I’m to hang with Bird, try to finish my costume for Halloween, and be a person. I’m feeling pretty good about myself, and I’m pretty happy. I hate to say that this is because I dropped D2, but it might be. I don’t have someone reminding me I’m crazy, that at any second I could spin out into a manic episode, or spiral into a depression. I’m just a person, living and doing stuff. It’s a nice feeling.

I turn 29 in a couple of weeks. I don’t like my birthday, but it’s how I gauge a year. Nothing happened this year. I started by having a breakdown about how at 28 I wasn’t married, had no kids, and no prospects for starting a family. I’ve done that for three years in a row. I don’t wanna do it this year. I started this year in that state of mind and everything went so horrendously anyways, between the election, and mothership getting pneumonia, and just… it was a bad year for me.

This year, I’m dubbing the YEAR OF CONTENT. It’s a term I’m blatantly stealing from one of my favorite YouTubers, Caitlyn Doughty of Ask a Mortician. She dedicated herself to a certain number of videos a week this year, and she’s kept to it. My year of content will be similar, in that I was to do at least two social things a week. It’s going to be hard… I’m not social… but I think it will be good for me, and maybe I’ll meet some people. I might join a gym. That’s a pretty easy social activity, but I hate the gym and it makes me wanna die… so maybe not. I’d like to be more healthy, but more than that I would just like to be happier. If the gym doesn’t make me happy, it probably isn’t my best choice.

Anyways… I’ll be starting that next week, although I should be able to hit my goal this week, too, since I went to book club Monday and I’m to see Heidi Thursday, and even Bird this weekend… So much social.

For accountability reasons, I’ll also be posting at least once a week to check in on if I did my two social activities… ^_^

And… yeah.

61 Days

My birthday is coming… Still got two months till it rears its ugly head, but it’s already darkening my door.

Why would a 29th birthday bother someone?

I’ve hated my birthday for years. It’s the culmination of a myriad of things, like the fact my birthday falls on Halloween. That SOUNDS like a cool birthday, but in reality it becomes inconvenient. I never get to take my birthday off because taking month-end off in my profession is impossible. People also make plans for Halloween. It’s a big party holiday. When presented with my birthday or some party with strangers downtown… downtown wins. It’s just a thing. So, with no one to invite to a party, and no way to take off for it to even really party, my birthday is just kind of a burden for me.

The last GOOD birthday party I had was when I was 15. Mom paid for me and some friends to hang out at Dave & Buster’s, and then all us lil goth kids when to see The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003). We ruined the experience for the mid-thirties couple behind us, but we didn’t care. We laughed, tried to scare each other, cringed… did kid shit. I think my mom was just excited for me to have some friends. They were fleeting, even at the best of time. I can’t recall doing anything for the rest of my birthdays after that… until I was 21.

A 21st birthday in America is a big deal. You can finally drink! Woo! Rager! Or something. The thing about my 21st first birthday is that I didn’t WANT to do anything for it. I was scarce on friends, as I had been for a while. My live-in boyfriend of the time decided it was a great excuse for a party. So… he invited all of HIS friends. To his credit, he tried to invite mine. Some showed up for a minute, but most didn’t even filter through. His friends were nice, though. This guy we called Fargo cut my birthday cake with a Samurai sword, and everyone got wasted. I tried to have fun, but I actually went to bed before everyone even left. It was a great attempt at a party, but at the end of the day it just had nothing to do with me.

The next year (I think) I didn’t even try to have a party. Instead, my friend Billie and I went to Zombie Crawl and then to a Polkadot Cadaver concert. It was great! I had a lot of fun. She’s in Oregon now, though. So… not really something repeatable.

I’ve had other people try to wrangle something together, but over the years my birthday started marking more than my inability to maintain healthy friendships. People’s careers took off. People got married. People had kids. People moved away. People changed. I’ve been at the same place for 12 years, even though my position has changed. I’ve got an alright career, but nothing to metaphorically write home about. I stopped dating. I lost friends. Every year my birthday just seemed to come around and remind me that another year had passed where I had earned no real adult points, and nothing had changed.

Obviously I’ve changed. I’ve clawed my way up to office manager, so far from the little file clerk I was 12 years ago. I have a house, four dogs, a cat, and I’m doing well for myself. I’ve stopped being a little goth kid and even found a moderately classy sense of style. I earned a college degree. There’s a lot in my life that’s worth being proud of. Still, every year, all I can think about is what I haven’t done… the typical adult milestones I haven’t even tried to get to… and it depresses me, because at 28 and 10 months, I still don’t know what I’m doing with my life.

My mom tries to console me. She was 34 when she had me, so there’s plenty of time for family. She never knew what she wanted from life till she decided she wanted the best for ME. She was a party girl and a serial bride. I appreciate her sentiments, but I’m not a party girl… and I haven’t even had a boyfriend since 2012. That boyfriend, by the way, has been married for over a year now.

So, I’ve been trying to think of things to do to avoid my crisis. I’m still unmedicated, still very bipolar, but I’m back to rapid cycling (pretty sure, now). I’m TRYING to do something different, which is leave… but I still feel like there’s so many things I just DON’T do, and I will probably never do.

And really, that’s fine. There’s no REAL obligation to DO these things. I don’t believe in marriage. I don’t really WANT my own kids. I don’t really want a big, fancy career. I just want to be debt free, with my dogs, and have a job that pays the bills without making me cry. I could use a significant other, but a best friend that lived in the same state would do. But knowing these things, and being rational about it doesn’t fix the feeling that I’m missing out and being left behind.

So… if you’re reading this… if you have a suggestion for something I could do to NOT have a total crisis this year, that would be fucking stellar. All suggestions appreciated.

14,716,800 Minutes

Halloween was my birthday.
I am 28.

I’m always sad that getting older is subtle and less like leveling up in a video game… I experienced no change in appearance, no improved skills, and no increase in HP. No, my birthday just brings what it has brought since I turned 25… which is a mild break down and general crisis.

It’s a strange thing, this birthday crisis. It’s atypical behavior for me. You see, I am not in the habit of comparing my life those of others, simply because while I don’t know what I want, I always know what I DO NOT want. I do not want to get married. I do not want to have kids, unless I decide to adopt later in life. I do not want to go back to college again. Knowing these things, it strikes me odd that I would be so moved as to have a crisis over these things that I don’t really want to start with… but that’s what happened.

So it’s Sunday the 30th, and I’m at the grocery with the Mothership, and we’re checking out. I got done first and I was looking at this display. I hate the fact that Christmas stuff starts showing up the day after Halloween… assuming they wait THAT long, but there was a display with three old Christmas movies on it.

holiday

They’re pretty old movies… and I mean ACTUALLY old… Not “90s kids” old, but made in the 60s old. Still, as a 90s kid, I did grow up watching them, just like the generations before me. They’re good Christmas movies. I always had a weird affection for claymation, to be honest.

Anyways, I’m standing there staring at this display, remembering how much I enjoyed these movies and out of nowhere my ovaries go:
YOU SHOULD BUY THESE TO SHOW YOUR KIDS! OH WAIT! YOU DON’T HAVE ANY FUCKING KIDS! AND YOU’RE NOT MARRIED, SO YOU PROBABLY WON’T EVER HAVE ANY KIDS TO SHARE YOUR FAVORITE CHILDHOOD STUFF WITH!”
My ovaries are still not on board with the not-wanting-to-have-kids thing… they are also real fucking mean since I don’t let them even TRY to setup house for a baby anymore. (I love my birth control so much.)

I dunno why, but that really hurt. I started tearing up. I held it in until we got home, and then I started crying in the car. My mom assured me that I have time to change my mind if I want to, seeing as how she didn’t have me until she was 34. I know that I have time and that things can change, but like… I dunno. This is just what I do on my birthday… I look at my life until I hate it.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not HAPPY with my life. There’s a lot of stuff I need to fix, but I’m working on it, however slowly I get things fixed. Even if I wasn’t trying to fix things, though… like… it’s not a BAD life. I’m moderately content. Mostly I just wish I hadn’t taken on the responsibility for 5 animals (never going over 3 again), but I love those animals and I am happy to have them, even if they are a little daunting as a responsibility. I just know, now, that this isn’t ideally what I wanted. (I was very lonely… I tried to fill that loneliness with pets… it worked, but I overdid it….)

It’s Nov 2nd and I’m better now. I still don’t want kids. I’m still not real interested in marriage. Still don’t wanna go back to college again. I still feel a weird little pang of regret that I don’t have anyone to share classic 60s claymation holiday films with… but I’m sure I’ll get over it.

I’m still not happy that I’m 28.

I mean, I don’t want to stay a kid forever or anything, but like… no one wants to get older… you get older and you’re closer to death, no matter how young you are.

Anyways…

Feliz Dia de los Muertos.

muertos-3

In the indigenous, aboriginal perspective on death, both life and death are mere aspects of a common duality or eternal cycle, as denoted in the following Native American poem from North America:

Untitled
Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on the snow.
I am the sunlight on the ripened grain.
I am the gentle Autumn’s rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry:
I am not there, I did not die.

What is Death?
What is death? It is the glass of life broken into a
thousand pieces, where the soul disperses like
perfume from a flask, into the silence of the eternal night.

Unknown Author

Through the Eyes of the Soul, Day of the Dead in Mexico
Unique Life
Be as happy as you can, oh king Tecayehyatzin
You who appreciates the jewels that flourish!
Will we live again?

Your heart knows this:
We only live once!
Vida única
¡Alégrate en extremo, oh rey Tecayehuatzin,
valuador de joyas florecientes!

¿Acaso una vez más vendremos a vivir?
Tu corazón lo sabe así:
¡Sólo una vez venimos a la vida!

Xayacamachan 1510 A.D.

Whelp….

Birthdays. What can I say about birthdays?

Not a lot. They don’t really mean anything to me anymore.

I haven’t had a real birthday party since I was 21. I don’t actually call that a real birthday party, though, since most of the guests were my boyfriend’s and not mine. I think like 5 people I actually knew myself showed up, but it was nice that his friends came, anyways, I guess. And they cut my cake with a samuri sword… so… Memorable.

Anyways, for my birthday this year (which was Halloween, if you missed that) I went to a friend’s Halloween party. It was a poly party. They converted the detached garage into a “dungeon” for play, but I didn’t actually see many people in there. The house mates made me a cake, because they’re genuinely nice and magical people. I invited Bird and Cat, but Cat got stuck with her nephew all day and was too exhausted to come… and Bird showed up for like an hour. I had fun, though. The people at poly parties are always interesting, and always very nice. And they sang me happy birthday, so… bonus.

My birthday cost me 6 lbs… so… I’m back to dieting. Gotta get back on it and drop more weight. It’s weird how fast it can creep back on. But I guess I’m not really surprised. I’ve been drinking a ton of soda, not enough water, and mostly eating WAY TOO MUCH Chipotle. I’ve been doing that thing where I get tacos and a bowl and eat both in one sitting… I dunno why.

It’s NaNoWriMo.
I’ve never really been a writer, but I think I might try this year… Just put it in a side blog, I guess… I need a place to storyboard my  comic book idea, anyways. Since I’m a day behind, I guess I’ll have to write two entries today… Or 3333 words in one entry. We’ll see. Idk…

I guess that’s it. Birthday was uneventful, but I did buy myself a neat new video game called Until Dawn. So… Yeah.

I Hate Snow…

I live in Denver. If you’re unfamiliar with Denver, we get snow and we have a bunch of crappy drivers. Technically, Fort Collins, way up north, has some of the safest drivers in the union (according to Forbes), but that’s way up north. Only college students and drunks go that far north.

That’s an exaggeration. I am not a typical Colorado suburbanite. I don’t hike, ski, bike, run, snowboard, smoke pot, or enjoy the mountains. I like to sit on my computer, blog, drink a lot of tea, and do crafts. I’m not an outdoor person, I don’t like doing anything in direct sunlight or snow (which is relevant because aside from snow, we also have approx 300 days of sun a year, and I enjoy NONE of that). If I’m outside, it’s usually on a patio at a bar, drinking something with vodka in it and giving into my desire to smoke to escape whoever I’ve gone out with that night. I am a crazy introvert with poor social skills and I’m out of shape as fuck.

This is me.

This is me.

Being this person has consequences. I’m scared to drive in snow, ever since I spun out and careened into a tree… that was six years ago. Every time I meet someone here that I’d like to have some semblance of a relationship with, they want me to join some activity that involves snow or sun. The last boyfriend was really into Frisbee golf, fixed gear biking, and snowboarding. I don’t do any of those, much less do them well.

So I’m back to me. Back to falling somewhere on the asexual scale, and being a hermit, especially in snow. It’s not a terrible existence, but something is lacking. So I throw everything I have into food.

To combat my propensity to binge eat, I’ve been cooking vegan. Mixed results, but things have definitely been worse.

Guess that’s about it.