Birthday Blogging
Today is my birthday. Here’s a card my brother sent me that I quite like.
I’m not sure if it’s legible. It says: “Why does it keep coming back? What does it want?”
I like how it captures the “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m another year older--al-freakin'-ready” sentiment without being one of those loathesome old fart-type cards. You know, the kind where there are so many candles on a cake that they leave a scorch mark on the ceiling or the fire department has to be called.
I’ve always despised that over-the-hill category of so-called humor, even when I was younger and had no reason to take it personally.
Another thing about this card is that it expresses just how mystified I feel when I try to wrap my mind around this new number that is supposedly my age. How could I possibly be that old?
The number sounds quite staggeringly ancient to me (which is why I can’t bring myself to reveal it). And yet, I don’t feel old or decrepit in the least, even though I am of an age where a lot of people my age (and younger) are seriously starting to fall apart physically. For example, my college roommate has a horrible degenerative neurological disorder; a friend who’s a few years younger than me is slowly going blind; another friend has lupus; and many people my age and younger are so out of shape they can't hack climbing a flight of stairs.
Through good genes and plain old luck, I feel just as fit and energetic as I did when I was 18. Scratch that. I’m probably more fit and energetic than I was then. And I’m definitely just as immature and prone to juvenile behavior.
That is definitely something to celebrate, which B and I are going to do in exactly one hour by having dinner here.
I’m not sure if it’s legible. It says: “Why does it keep coming back? What does it want?”
I like how it captures the “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m another year older--al-freakin'-ready” sentiment without being one of those loathesome old fart-type cards. You know, the kind where there are so many candles on a cake that they leave a scorch mark on the ceiling or the fire department has to be called.
I’ve always despised that over-the-hill category of so-called humor, even when I was younger and had no reason to take it personally.
Another thing about this card is that it expresses just how mystified I feel when I try to wrap my mind around this new number that is supposedly my age. How could I possibly be that old?
The number sounds quite staggeringly ancient to me (which is why I can’t bring myself to reveal it). And yet, I don’t feel old or decrepit in the least, even though I am of an age where a lot of people my age (and younger) are seriously starting to fall apart physically. For example, my college roommate has a horrible degenerative neurological disorder; a friend who’s a few years younger than me is slowly going blind; another friend has lupus; and many people my age and younger are so out of shape they can't hack climbing a flight of stairs.
Through good genes and plain old luck, I feel just as fit and energetic as I did when I was 18. Scratch that. I’m probably more fit and energetic than I was then. And I’m definitely just as immature and prone to juvenile behavior.
That is definitely something to celebrate, which B and I are going to do in exactly one hour by having dinner here.
posted by Rozanne at 5:16 PM
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