See, in China, they begin counting whole years when you are born, not after you have been breathing for a year.
You know how 29 is supposed to be the perfect age, and women think they're supposed to turn 29 over and over and over in order to remain valuable and beautiful as human beings?
Well, bullshit.
I'm totally down with maturing. I got my first gray hair when I was 26, and I have a whole bunch of them now, and I can't wait until my whole head is silver. Soon my boobs will start to sag (hopefully from nursing each child for three or so years; and, dude, I finally have boobs to sag!!), and my skin will wrinkle, and my hands will get spotty. And why the heck not? I'll be wiser, kinder, more compassionate, more open, less worried about the silly crap that bothers me now. I'll have gathered more people who love me and whom I love. Childhood will be a more and more and more distant memory, glory be. Some day, I'll have lived more of my life in the light than in the darkness. I'll have little ones, and they'll grow, and then I'll have more little ones. I'll have read more books, taken in more art, basked in more sunsets, made more love, wept more, laughed more, hugged more, tasted more, shared more, breathed more. My life will have meant something to someone, maybe a lot of someones. Every wrinkle and sag and spot will represent something of myself that I've given to someone, a little more love spread among us. To hell with 29. Who needs it?
I sure don't. So I'm skipping it. Until April 13, 2011, I've decided to be Chinese. If you wish me a happy day, do it with vigor, for today is my first 30th birthday.
Here are some photos from the customary post-Easter-dinner celebration of my birth with my in-laws. My mother-in-law worked 3 intentional errors into the cake inscription, thinking it would be fun to have me correct them with red icing. Heh. Heh. Heh.
I found 9 errors. It's what I do. My sister-in-law's reaction was "Huh. Well, it used to be pretty." I don't think she was as amused as I was.
I got presents too!
From my sister-in-law: a tea-light lantern made of recycled cans. So cool!
From my mother-in-law: she made me a yoga-mat bag!
Check out this detail:
And from my extraordinary spouse:
and
No, I haven't been hiding a talent. I don't play a note. I don't even read music. Yet. So I shall toast the next 30 years with one of the century's best vintages of one of the world's finest wines, and then I'll get to work. L'Chaim!
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9 comments:
That's a really funny (and tasty looking) cake! And about that beautiful music instrument... there's a world waiting at your feet. It might be frustrating at the beginning, but playing music is heaven, I promise. It's a wonderful way to express yourself and suddenly you'll feel it, it's like the universe wraps around you and you feel home and supported by every note you play...
Happy birthday! (You woudn't believe it, but I actually typed bUrthday first, without meaning to :p)
Hi! I sure hope it's that way. I love clarinet music. My dad was a music professor and played classical guitar, so maybe it's in my genes.
8) You can misspell all the words you like; your English is better than most Americans'. It's, what, your third language?
Happy first 30th to you then, my friend.
It was cool to see an actual photograph of YOU, I must say.
Thanks, Rach!
Yeah. I'm only just now starting to be comfortable seeing myself in pictures. So I'll be trying to post some of the good ones, as they happen. To give you a bit of perspective, I'm 5'1", about the size of your average 11-year-old boy, and I have green eyes and pasty white skin (which I actually like, by the way).
I hope you are well! How are you feeling? How is Poppy?
Rachel, Amy is right in describing herself as being about the size of an eleven-year-old boy. However, she neglects to say that her skin is as creamy and translucent as alabaster, ("pasty" is not a good word!)
Happy Belated Birthday! I am glad you are alive and that I can get to know you. Thanks for sharing yourself with me. If I could, I would LOVE to celebrate your second 30th birthday with you, but I don't know about the logistics of it all.
I totally laughed at what you said about your boobs. I used to have no boobs, and now I'm breastfeeding my third baby and my boobs are HUGER than I ever thought possible. From barely a 'B' cup to a triple D? Or F? I'm not really sure what to call this size. It's so great that you are reveling in all the good things that will come with being older. I'm not sure I quite have that perspective yet...but I'd like to learn from you.
xo
Aww, thanks, Asheya. Well, if I find myself in the Yukon ...
The funniest thing is that, for most of my life, I was totally flat-chested. Now I'm a generous C cup!! Sweet redemption. It's not evident in the pictures (a) because I have a small rib cage and (b) the bras I wear barely count as bras, and I'd burn them, except for the "generous" part. Going braless doesn't work out for me very well anymore; people stare. Here's to having boobs!
I love the fact that you got a clarinet. I begged for an oboe and got a used one for my 16th birthday. Couldn't read music, didn't know a thing really. I got six months of lessons out of the deal and learned how to play the theme from Swan Lake before my parents stopped paying for them. My teacher told me that I had a lot of promise and even looked through catalogs with me for a "real" oboe, something above the plastic student model I had, but I had to quit the lessons before we got that far.
I still have that plastic oboe, but I've forgotten everything I learned. Once, a few years ago, a friend from college saw the oboe case and stated matter-of-factly, "You'll never play it again." I have kept it ever since so that someday, somehow, I'll prove her wrong.
I hope you do prove her wrong, and you totally should. If I can do this, you so can. You are a woman of vast talent, after all.
My father-in-law picked this one out for me; he's a pretty accomplished musician. It's from eBay, and it was sitting in someone's garage forever, and the pads were munched away by moths, but it's a good brand, made of wood, and not a student model. It's at the spa right now, getting massaged and manicured. I will start lessons in June. Wish me good musicyness!
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