The Day After

Dellinger Park Color Edit, originally uploaded by Lisa Golden.

Thank you all so much for the birthday wishes! The day was a blur of well wishes, laughs, UPS fantasies, calls and chats, cards and chocolate cake.

I realize that I'm a huge disappoint to some of you, but one of the highlights of my day was getting into bed between freshly ironed sheets. While I didn't do any work on the manuscript yesterday, I did some meditative ironing as I considered some changes I want to make to that work in progress. I had to bat away thoughts about the next book I want to write. Focus, focus...

I made up for my domestic indulgence by playing drinking games with the cats. Those felines can put away the whiskey when they're drinking competitively. We watched a rerun of Jersey Shores and every time someone got bleeped, you had to drink. I ended up wasted on a combination of what was left in the liquor cabinet, a quarter cup of Marsala wine and a shot or two of cooking sherry with an expiration date of 1997.

I'm probably on the Queen's shit list because I totally forgot to call her back to tell her I wouldn't be coming to tea. In my inebriated state, I did manage to drunk dial three old boyfriends and my Senators' offices. I think I'm supposed to be making a large donation to some conservative cause. Good thing I told them I was Rachel Maddow. They'll never call her office to follow up.

MathMan and Nate arrived home bringing with them a decadent chocolate cake. The annual fight over who would have the privilege of torturing me by scrawling my age in frosting across the top of the fudgey confection broke out, I screamed obscenities and threatened to run away from home, a plate was smashed in the ensuing melee, fire broke out when some whiskey reeking cat jumped up on the counter and yawned next to the 45 blazing candles and then Happy Birthday was sung in double time.

The cake was delicious. Kroger, you done good. We just worked around the flecks of melted wax, cat hair and fire extinguisher foam.

Things eventually settled down. MathMan got to work writing some kind of math test, Nate and Sophie ridiculed the television program they were watching and I went back to thanking people for their birthday wishes while I secretly tried to reconstruct a couple of those drunk dialed phone convos. Had I really told that one guy about what my mother had said about him? I was going to have to send an apology for sure.  Maybe some flowers.  Wait.  No. That would seem like a dig.  A gift card to The Bass Pro Shop.  Yeah, that would sooth my conscience and reinforce his masculinity.  Damn my mother and her opinions anyway.

MathMan stood, stretched, said something about being tired and walked into the bathroom. "Honey?" He opened the door a smidge and stuck his head out.

"Yes?" I looked up from the laptop.

"Why is there a UPS uniform hanging on the back of the door?"

********
How is your Tuesday shaping up? Ever drunk dialed anyone?  And what happened to the UPS guy?

The Number of Candles Remains A Mystery

The day after my parents found me under a cabbage leaf.  Or so my sister said.

The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly and lie about your age. - Lucille Ball

I woke up this morning and checked my phone like I always do.  I do it mostly in case Chloe has sent some overnight angst-o-gram, a wish goodnight or photos of a mysterious rash she wants me to diagnose using my super special mom powers.  Instead, I was overwhelmed by a number of Facebook text messages from friends wishing me a happy birthday.

While MathMan burrowed deeper under the covers and gave me a good morning grope, I read the messages and wondered how I could be so lucky.  In a year that has had its ups and downs, the human connections have been the highlight.  There's no question about it.

MathMan and the kids presented me with cards before racing off to school, leaving me to thank the cats for not spelling out Happy Barfday in hairballs this year and to contemplate what to do with my day.  Write?  Read? Work out?  Accept that invitation from the Queen to come for tea? Don my tiara reserved for special occasions and strip the bed linens for laundry?

I'll probably do all of those things.  Except the Tea with the Queen thing.  She's so needy.  It's my day, you know?  I don't want to talk about her favorite Corgi's "nasty habit" or how one can't find a proper set of gloves at WalMart these days.

I looked for my tiara, but couldn't find it.  Instead, I put on Sophie's headband with the devil horns, some matching red lipstick and got busy vacuuming.  One of the nicest things someone like me can do for herself is fix it so that she doesn't think "Dear lord, why do I bother vacuuming on a Friday?" every time she strolls through the living room on her way to fill her coffee cup.  Self-care can too be practical.  It doesn't have to be all spa and chocolate, yo.

The doorbell rang and I went to answer it.  The UPS guy stood there smiling.

"Sign here."  He glanced at the top of my head.

"Okay."  I'd forgotten the horns.

He cleared his throat.  "So Halloween's coming early at your house?"

I blinked at him, then my hand shot up to my head. My fingertips rested on the satiny horns with feathers. I had a choice here, didn't I?

"Actually, it's my birthday," I said, bringing my hand down and resting it on his chest.  "And I couldn't find my tiara."

He looked down at my red nails drumming on his brown shirt and shifted the electronic signing thingy under his arm.  "Well, happy birthday." he smiled and swallowed hard.  I could see his Adam's Apple play up and down.

I patted his chest and removed my hand from his chest.  "I suspect this package is the rest of the costume."  I held up the small package and smiled my sweetest Blanche Dubois smile.

"Are you going to try it on now?" he asked, suddenly eager. So I hadn't lost my touch.

I weighed the package in my hands.  I knew that it was really the book I'd ordered as my birthday gift.  "Well," I drawled.  "Maybe later.  Right now I have some vacuuming to do.  Unless, you'd like to come in and vacuum while I change...."

I shut off the vacuum and went to the door.  A package rested against the porch railing.  I looked up and waved to the UPS driver who was swinging up into his seat.  He gave me a wave and put the van in gear to drive away.  I reached up and patted the satin horns.

Live honestly, eat slowly, lie about your age.

I try to live honestly, but there's always room for improvement in that department.  I will dedicate myself to slower eating and savor the flavors of the birthday cake MathMan will pick up on his way home. And as for that last one, remember how I said I was half way to ninety?  A lie.

Thanks to all who've wished me a happy birthday already today.  It's a great day to turn 29!

Party games are over here at Black Magpie Theory.  No gifts, please.