My birthday has come and gone. I bought myself some gluten-free/dairy-free whoopie pies. Chocolate cookies with whipped cream in the middle. So sweet and decadent, I have to eat it in tiny bites. I put some GF/BF peanut butter brownie ice ceram on it, and it was a great birthday treat. Here’s yesterday’s post with my musings about my birthday.
I also had a call scheduled with K. She wished me a happy birthday, and then we just ranted about the current state of our country. Waking up to the news that your president acutally said out loud in his outside voice that he was going to eliminate a civilization tonight was certainly a mood.
Here’s a distillation of what I said to her: This president frightens me beccause I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. I mean, I know he believes whatever he sys in the moment, but that changes from minute to minute. If this were any other president, I would believe that he was bluffing or pushing Iran to back down.
You know what? No. Fuck no. I wouldn’t because I would not fucking expect a president to ever say anything like that. The president was a loose cannon in his first term, and he’s gone completely off the rails now. I have no idea what he is going to say or do, which is not something I enjoy at all. I’m used to being able to read people accuurately, and he’s just–a hot mess.
Did I really think he was going to bomb Iran? I want to say no, but I can’t esay it with any confidence. And that’s a big reason I have such a hard time with this president. There are no limits to what he will or won’t do. I said he was chaotic evil to K, and I was not implying the chaotic was bad (I’m chaotic myself), but obviously, the evil part is bad.
We ranted for a good hour and a half. It’s a breath of fresh air to be able to do it with her. She sent me the most gorgeous bouquet of preserved live flowers in a vareity of shades of purple. They are supposed to last for a year to three years. As we were getting off the phone, she told me that it was a weird gift. I told her I loved her weird gifts because they fit me perfectly. She said it was weird even for her, and I insisted that I would love it.
Which I did. I both grinned and teared up at the same time. She always gives me the perfect gift, especially when they are weird. She gave me a candle that says, “Out of fucks to give.” She’s given me more conventional presents like books that she thinks I will ilke. When she was here, we went out on a date between our two birthdays.
She wasn’t the only one who wished me well, though. Ian messaged me a happy birthday, my Taiji teacher sent me a happy birthday email, and my mother called me because she had a few minutes before going to an appointment with my father. They wished me a happy birthday and sang to me twice (once by my mother alone and once with my father). My brother’s girlfriend also sent me a lovely email as well wishing me a happy birthday. I thought that would be it, but my brother called me (for another reason) and wished me a happy birthday.
I was very happy to receive all that love. It touched me. I may not care about my birthday, but I do care about my loved ones. Very much so. And to know that they were thinking of me as well with love in their hearts. It made me feel very warm.
Does it make me feel better about my birthday itself? No. But that’s ok because I don’t need to feel good about my birthday. It really doesn’t mean much to me. I was talking to my brother about it and how I can’t really keep track of how old I was. He agreed. he’s never been good about ages, either. In fact, the only reason he remembered my birthday (probably) was beacuse the task he called me about had to do with it. Or it might have been because his GF reminded him. Either way, it was nice.
When my mom asked me how old I was, I paused for a moment (this was the last time we talked). I honestly couldn’t remember, and because it didn’t matetr to me, it took me several moments to recall my actual age. She joked, “Once you hit 39, you stay at 39!” I admit that I snapped a bit because I hate that trope. I said that it wasn’t that and that I did not care that I was getting older. I really do not. Age is just a number is trite, yes, but it’s true.
Of course there are things I can’t do at my age or at least not as easily that I could twenty years ago, but Taiji has helped minimized that greatly. As with other labels, though, I just want to toss it aside. Again, not to deny my age, but because it’s simply irrelevant to me.
So I read about the two-week ceasefire in Iran, of course, and I feel nothing. Relief? Yeah, I suppose it’s somewhere deep down inside. However, I’m just numb. I can’t tap into it at all. What I *can* tap into is the sheer rage that is festering inside. I have a hard time containing it, and I am glad I got to vent to my bestie about it.
I’m done with this country, honestly. As K and I talked about it, it’s so hard to believe that kids of today have so much less civil rights than we did when we were their age. I brought up the burning of Rome while Nero fiddled. Maybe it’s time for America to burn. The only problem with that is that so many people will get hurt if that happens.
But you know. Omelet, eggs broken, etc. At any rate, I’m glad that it’s done for another year. Now I just have to tackle my taxes.