Can whoever sent me this fess up? I appreciate it very much, but there was no card or note or anything and as you know I am not too swift when it comes to figuring out who has sent me something, even if a gift is actually signed by an actual person. As to the item itself, I hadnāt ever thought about the possibilities engendered by a love affair between chocolate and traditional Japanese flute music, but Iām certainly open to the experience. Thank you, mystery person, whoever you may be.
Itās been a good birthday week so far. In addition to the abovementioned CD, I got some flowers from my mom the other day and a package from my sister, which included this book, which was just the little boost I need to start a new project (Iām thinking a cell phone cozy tonight while Iām caramelizing onions). Otherwise, a lot of my energy is being focused on the fact that I will be whimpering in the bathroom during the greater part of the birthday party Carl is giving me tomorrow night (you! Totally invited!). He has promised to decorate the bathroom with some nice flowers and a book or two should I get bored between bouts of sniveling āTell them all to go HOME!ā My sister wrote me today to ask if there werenāt any other, more convenient places for me to cower, as people will certainly want to use the facilities during this so-called āpartyā where everyone will be having fun without me because I will be too scared to attend my own birthday. Good thinking.
Iām a little ridiculous about this sort of thing, because, as exhaustively documented in Ampersandās archives, I like my friends, I like to talk and eat (often at the same time), I like to sit in tight little groups and gossip, and I like to dress the cats up in baby clothesā¦all of which are important components to a good party, I feel. Parties themselves are greatā¦the middle part, at least, when people are there and walking around and laughing and everything. Itās the pre-party waiting around and dithering about and wondering if I should go out for more drinks or if I should just wait and is this a totally stupid skirt to wear? and that awful feeling where youāre not sure which will be worse, if people show up or if they donāt. I hate that. I deal with it by cowering. Thatās about all I have to say about that. Clearly whatever sort of writerās block I have hasnāt really abated, has it.
Time Elapses
So, itās now actually my birthday, a whole day has gone by, and by some chance of a rip in the space-time continuum I am still writing this entry, which I gave up on yesterday (or ājust up there in the last paragraphā to you folks) because I was all, hoo ha, nothing to see here, nothing else to say. But now I have to tell you that such is the power of my good birthday week that it can override what would normally be the sucky one-two punch of locking my keys in my car with the motor running in front of the ATM and then losing my ATM card. When it was very cold and windy outside. And the dude from Triple A took his sweet time getting over to me. And my ears were very cold and people were looking at me funny on the street and some guy told me my lights were on and I was like, yeah, thanks, my ENGINEāS on except I said it under my breath as I cried little frozen ice cubes of coldness. But see, such is the power of Birthday Week (you can thank Pamie for the whole idea, by the way, as for so much else) that I actually had my purse and my phone and my Triple A card on me, instead of in the car, so it worked out okay. No word yet on the ATM card, but Iām sure Birthday Week will find a way.
Since I didnāt get home until late last night I didnāt get a chance to make a cell phone cozy (though I did look lustfully at the pictures in the book) because I had to caramelize some more damn onions for what better be the Appetizer Of The Universe, considering all the time I have put in. Thatās okay, though, because I am working out a deal with the scrumptiously talented and easy-on-the-eyes Dawnie to come live with me and be my love\knitting slave and so I am sure to get all the beautiful hand knit things I want, as I slowly learn the art myself. Have you seen her knitting blog? You havenāt? No? Why not? What, you donāt like knitting?
Yesterday I tearily told Carl, right on schedule, that I hate all my friends and I hate birthday cake and I hate my birthday and I hate everything and that I wasnāt going to go to the party at all and that it was the worst idea Iād ever had. He responded by baking a gigantic carrot cake. I guess if nothing else, if no one shows up (as I am currently convinced they wonāt) then I will be able to take a shower with carrot cake, which will be totally great and will make My Friend Ashley seethe with envy, as I believe thatās always been a dream of hers.
Tomorrow afternoon Iām going to pretend to be an admission counselor again and do a college fair for Pitzer and then take an all-expenses-paid trip down to Portland overnight to do another college fair. Iām getting paid to do this, too, which is great as the dollar is terrible against the euro right now and I need extra money to buy baguettes and berets and whatever else one buys in France. Itās weird, because I havenāt even been to the college for something like four years so I canāt even give a good description of what it even looks like, so part of me wonders if Iām even doing those kids a favor by answering their questions (āUm, yeah, when I was a freshmanā¦ten years agoā¦uh, the school was pretty cool. Thereās a chicken coop on campus. At least there was in the mid-nineties, when I was in college. You should totally take a brochure.ā) Thereās also a part of me that remembers hey! Free trip to Portland! Home of the peerless Powellās and of no sales tax! Iām planning now just to outright lie when someone asks me a question about the school to which I donāt know the answer:
Prospective Student: Whatās the average GPA at the school? [Because they always ask that, and donāt pretend like you didnāt when you were looking at colleges because we both know you did]
Chiara: A unicorn!
Also, I plan to listen to my new French language CD that my mom sent men on the drive down, as Carl is going to tag along for the trip and has evidenced a sudden desire to learn French. This promises to be deeply and satisfyingly hilarious on all sorts of levels, especially the part where French requires you, essentially, to hock a loogie to pronounce the ārā sound in words like āregarderā or something. Deeply, satisfyingly hilarious.
So thatās my birthday so far. I made it in to the gym this morning and am wearing my knee high boots. I go full time to my new job in exactly a month. My onions got caramelized on time. This time in May I will be in France. If it werenāt for the war that started a year ago today, Iād call this pretty close to a perfect day. Regardless, though, I think twenty-nine is going to be a good year.