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.

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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.

Whelp… I’m 23… (Sorta)

I’ve decided that I’m going to be 23 this year. In reality, I’m biologically 26, but I’ve decided that I want the past three years back, so I’m just going with it. It makes me feel better, and I think that if you’re gonna lie about your age, you should start early so people notice less later.

Last year I made goals. I didn’t keep those goals. So, they reset this year. My new weight goal is to lose 111-126 pounds. It’s three pounds less than last year, so I dunno what the hell I weighed last year, but I could look it up if I get curious. I’m fucking huge… something has to give. Nothing I’ve tried really works, though. I can’t keep to anything. So… I dunno what I’m going to do. I’m not making a plan, I’m just going to see if I can lose it by sheer power of will… coupled with trying really hard not to binge eat.

The binge eating gets me every time.

This year I DID stop smoking… so that’s a positive life choice. I also took up cooking vegan/vegetarian dishes. They’re not really less caloric, but there’s something to be said about trying to eat more veg. So, we’ll see if upping my vegetarian/vegan meal intake affects my weight. My friend is a raw vegan, and she’s lost a ton of weight, so there’s got to be something behind the concept of higher veg intake. I’m not sure I can do raw vegan, though… I mean… Maybe… I dunno.

I cooked the last of my pasta last night, since that’s a big downfall for me. I started making cucumber noodles, which it crazy tasty with nutritional yeast on it. So that should replace some cals as soon as the chicken and spinach pasta is gone. In the meantime I will enjoy my pasta… I love pasta.

I dunno, man. I have been trying to lose weight my entire life. It feels so hopeless. I’ve done it before, and the weight came back and brought friends, so that’s just… shit. The fat trap is real… and the struggle to dodge it, even more so. It’s really depressing.

I am going to try to get more active, but I haven’t decided WHEN I’ll do that. I’m trying to finish a blanket for Maria for Christmas… and I think the end of that will be when I start doing the elliptical that I have to hate so much. I just don’t like the one I have… it has such a small gait… I’m not short enough for it… but… I gotta do something… Even if it’s just because in 2 years I’ll be invited to a high school reunion… Vanity is my best motivator… For real.

Anyways…
No boyfriends. No job changes. Nothing interesting to report. Think I’m back to being asexual after breaking my stint of celibacy in September… I’m glad I didn’t blog about that. I make bad life choices for no reason other than to sabotage myself. It’s a flaw.

So. Here’s to a new year for me… and starting my life goal of not being fat all over again.

Happy Birthday Robot Woman

Let me tell you about my grandmother.
She was a robot alien from outer space sent here to kidnap me.

That’s literally what she told me years upon years. Not like, when I was bad, to make me behave… Just because she could. She was like that. Lol. I had a weird childhood. I started to believe her after she died 7 times before it stuck… I thought she’d never die… and I still maintain she didn’t… The aliens just came back for her… She’s flying through space drinking instant coffee, eating pecan pie, and making someone cry.

She didn’t make cookies, but she always made me laugh…

Miss ya grandma… you crazy old woman.