Wednesday, January 6, 2010

It's my party, and I can barf if I want to, barf if I want to, barf if I want to!

Here I am, 36 years young, steadily creeping my way towards ancient. Currently inducing pre-arthritis in fingers by typing late at night next to a freezing drafty window. Just spent 80 hours fiddling with stupid playlist inanity that didn't even work and anyway I didn't like the advertising component and goddamn heck! What a waste of my precious quickly dribbling time.

Also spent 80 hours writing a barfday blog entry I thought was witty and wonderful and upon rereading realized was just plain dumb. So I erased it AND the stupid playlist and now we have a playlist-less blog and an annoyed barfday entry, but oh well, it's my barfday, and I can barf if I want to!

Was going to make intelligent argument for pursuit of artistic endeavors this coming year but don't care to anymore, thought about it too much and don't see why I should broadcast to the world that I'll always consider myself a "writer" and "artist"--even though I cringe at calling myself anything--because most importantly I'm not JUST those things, I'm lots of other things! Like, a hootananie hoot owl, and a knitted-by-Nanny wool cowl. What? Whatever--no one cares anyway, I mean, does anyone care if I call myself a old dowel? No, no, and no, and neither do I, so please can it, you silly little barn fowl. Was also going to be a good Samaritan and assert emphatically, earnestly, that I want to do GOOD with my writing and art, but again, who gives a bath towel? Not me! Well, I do, but...what I NEED to do is just do it.

Now it's the morning, and I started my day with a barfy yam poop (Malko, actually), so that was an interesting start to my 36th annum, but on the whole I feel good--no, I feel great--about the way things are going even despite the recent ups and downs. I think I feel good about things because in many ways it seems like I--and Joedy, and our little family--are starting over, and not only do I think we needed a new start (Costa Rica would have been our big "new start," but we know how that turned out...) but, well, we wanted one--just because it seemed fun--and the thought of starting over in a new city is really, really exciting to me. When people ask "why Austin?" I mention sensible things like the high-quality tap water, but in fact what I'm really excited about is South By Southwest this spring!!! Dude! I really want to go to that, and I really want to hear music--be somehow involved in music--on a regular basis. Austin is supposedly the live music mecca...maybe I'll give another shot at the bass? Maybe? Maybe?

I was just talking to my aunt Maryse, who came in last night from Seattle/France, about the weirdness of turning 36 and how I just don't feel that old, and it's true: how is it possible that I'm four years away from 40? I still run up and down stairs (for fun, not exercise) and laugh at things like people pooping in the bath (guess who?). I don't feel very ma-ture--if given the choice, say, between a nice sensible drying rack for my birthday or a '74 Chevy Nova, I'd probably pick the Nova. And then paint it eggplant and drive it around with this blasting on the stereo. Some parts of me are maturing, namely, my knees and nose (getting bonier and bigger*, respectively), but really that seems to be it. I guess when I'm 93, all knobby-kneed and big-nosed, I'll still find the sight of someone pooping in the bath hilarious, and I'll still hurl myself up and down stairs, walker and all...

Anyhoo (-t owl). Think I'll take advantage of kind offer from elders to allow me to return to my bed, which hopefully doesn't reek of yam poop anymore, and return to dreaming...

Happy day to all, and to all a good night!

*could be due to "things" put in it (see? Maturity--not there!)

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