Today I awoke to a beautiful day on Hamilton Park. I can hear the tennis balls bouncing back and forth, back and forth, on the courts across the street. Dogs are barking in the dog run, but I can't see them through all the green leaves that have sprung out where flowers bloomed on the cherry trees just a few weeks ago.
Every spring day on Hamilton Park is marvelous, but today has one special thing.
It's my last day of being 45 years old.
That's not exactly a kid, but tomorrow I pass into the high end of this particular decade. All of this is, naturally, rather terrifying, but as many have pointed out to me, it is better than being dead. Which is where a number of former colleagues have ended up unexpectedly, so I should shut the hell up and be grateful for another birthday.
I have a hundred little things to do today. I'm building a set of custom drawers to fit into a weird-shaped space and yesterday I made great progress after a visit to the local lumber yard. I need to go to Home Depot to pick up a few things. I want to walk over to Liberty State Park to see some properties and a new restaurant—I just learned a few days ago that because mortgage restrictions are now so tight on the self-employed, I'll be needing 35% down to go with my perfect credit and history of ownership, so suddenly lower-priced properties are looking way more appealing than they did as week ago. I need to write or choose a monologue to work on in my acting class—I mean one I've written as my goal is storytelling on stage. And I want to finish scanning my photos that I'm making into an online gallery that will go to StalkingTheWildDikDik.com.
This year was mixed. I had great success in making myself have grand, uncomfortable adventures since I left Nigeria on a ferry for Cameroon on my last birthday morning. I lazed about in a hotel in the rain that day, leaving only to check on a bus ticket and to go to a primate sanctuary. After that, I had May to December of fantastic, exhausting, mind-numbing adventures.
My return home was a dud. Unbelievable promise evaporated under my feet (it was, after all, unbelievable), and while I prioritized pursuing that promise (a poor compromise choice that taught me not to do that again), I was delaying these other projects that are top priorities for me. I mean besides acting school, my personal trainer, and finishing these drawers I started in 2010.
And so I am embracing the age of 46 with looking forward this time, not with my usual "oh shit, aging is something that makes me want to cover my head with a pillow."
I'm throwing myself a party tomorrow night at a restaurant in Manhattan. I'm paying for it myself and I've arranged it myself.
And it's not just a birthday party. It's a returning home from MariesWorldTour.com party. Because I may have screwed up my priorities and creative work on my return, but that doesn't mean I can't rewrite my own narrative. This time, I'm getting it right and focusing on myself.
First thing I'm going to do after drawer-building is make a project with Roberta. I'm not sure she knows it yet but she's talented and usually game, so I think the little story I hand her to develop into an eBook/iPad production is going to evolve into something we can both be proud of.
Happy last day of my 45th year. To me, anyway.
Every spring day on Hamilton Park is marvelous, but today has one special thing.
It's my last day of being 45 years old.
That's not exactly a kid, but tomorrow I pass into the high end of this particular decade. All of this is, naturally, rather terrifying, but as many have pointed out to me, it is better than being dead. Which is where a number of former colleagues have ended up unexpectedly, so I should shut the hell up and be grateful for another birthday.I have a hundred little things to do today. I'm building a set of custom drawers to fit into a weird-shaped space and yesterday I made great progress after a visit to the local lumber yard. I need to go to Home Depot to pick up a few things. I want to walk over to Liberty State Park to see some properties and a new restaurant—I just learned a few days ago that because mortgage restrictions are now so tight on the self-employed, I'll be needing 35% down to go with my perfect credit and history of ownership, so suddenly lower-priced properties are looking way more appealing than they did as week ago. I need to write or choose a monologue to work on in my acting class—I mean one I've written as my goal is storytelling on stage. And I want to finish scanning my photos that I'm making into an online gallery that will go to StalkingTheWildDikDik.com.
This year was mixed. I had great success in making myself have grand, uncomfortable adventures since I left Nigeria on a ferry for Cameroon on my last birthday morning. I lazed about in a hotel in the rain that day, leaving only to check on a bus ticket and to go to a primate sanctuary. After that, I had May to December of fantastic, exhausting, mind-numbing adventures.
My return home was a dud. Unbelievable promise evaporated under my feet (it was, after all, unbelievable), and while I prioritized pursuing that promise (a poor compromise choice that taught me not to do that again), I was delaying these other projects that are top priorities for me. I mean besides acting school, my personal trainer, and finishing these drawers I started in 2010.
And so I am embracing the age of 46 with looking forward this time, not with my usual "oh shit, aging is something that makes me want to cover my head with a pillow."
I'm throwing myself a party tomorrow night at a restaurant in Manhattan. I'm paying for it myself and I've arranged it myself.
And it's not just a birthday party. It's a returning home from MariesWorldTour.com party. Because I may have screwed up my priorities and creative work on my return, but that doesn't mean I can't rewrite my own narrative. This time, I'm getting it right and focusing on myself.
First thing I'm going to do after drawer-building is make a project with Roberta. I'm not sure she knows it yet but she's talented and usually game, so I think the little story I hand her to develop into an eBook/iPad production is going to evolve into something we can both be proud of.
Happy last day of my 45th year. To me, anyway.
1 comment:
So I spent the morning building drawers, then spent hours shooting the breeze with Denise and Nilka at first BASIC and then White Star, and even ran into old neighbors at White Star. Couldn't think of a better way to spend my last day of being 45 than wasting hours bullshitting with friends.
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