maybe more later, maybe not. probably. i’m still processing just how meaningful the day was and just how profound it is that my life-altering epiphany occurred on the actual day of my birth… and you know how much i have to write when i’m working through “it.” suffice that my birthday was the best day of my life. truly! THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE thus far. i think i had to be old enough to be present enough to recognize it as such. and it wasn’t cuz i jumped out of an airplane or drank so well i don’t remember how it ended, haha! it was a blessing, and i knew it when it happened. i’ll tell ya if i tell ya. 😉
“GRAVITY HAS A WAY OF ALWAYS WINNING IN THE LONG RUN,” he said to her on her fortieth birthday. “So you might as well jump out of an airplane!” she said back.
[to facebook] April 27, 2013: “i have to say i’m a little disappointed in my birthday so far. i LANDED after jumping out of an airplane. let’s be honest: i never meant to decline into mid-life and old age. FIT FORTY FABULOUS! and flying!”
today: “i’d like to give a quick shout to all the good people who made my day so special. if you weren’t able to make it, no worries. it was good to ‘look forward’ to you and to have you in my thoughts as i celebrated this landmark passage. those of you who were able to attend made me feel so blessed, so happy, and so utterly, deliciously WORTHY. it was a true “aha!” moment to love myself as much as i love all of you, and you gave me that. ON my actual day! i’m so grateful… to be alive, to muddle through another day, and to be surrounded by such insightful, intelligent, strange, extraordinary people, to call you community and family. i love my life. i must be really kickass to warrant your friendship. i love you all.”
My friends were chosen by a birth mother and their son is due in mid-November! Their baby shower was elegant like a wedding reception. Of course. Leave it to the gays. Kidding aside, it was everything a baby shower should be. No obnoxious games everyone suffers through, just an occasion to celebrate family and community and love. The only activity was to write our thoughts and blessings to baby Oscar George Bateman-Rapier on quilt blocks, which Jerry’s sister will stitch into a beautiful blanket in which to wrap and welcome home their son! Their son!
Writing to the baby and his fathers centered our thoughts on the importance and sacredness of the event. It was inspiring and uplifting, just a wonderful Fall afternoon spent with diverse people and joy.
I hope I get to figure into this new child’s life like I did my other friends’ kids, who are teenagers now and mostly disinterested in me, ‘cept the one kid I love above all others, who sees me as one of her mommies. 🙂
Phil and I went to San Francisco and I came home inspired! We attended their Burning Man Decompression. Decompression is where the good people who revel in the desert get together post-burn to bond and party, to share stories from the “playa,” as it’s called. Or Black Rock City, the fifth largest city in Nevada for the week of our festival. Salt Lake City’s Utah Decompression was the following weekend, last weekend. You follow.
I made my entire outfit – vest, hat, bustle – in a day and a half. Then I put it on and walked out the door. Just like that! I even bedazzled a cool fedora for Phil. We were super sexy and cute. I even stitched the leafy “feathers” that adorn my shoulder shrug and chapeau!
photos courtesty Rudy van Bree
Brazilian pilot, not Phil. 🙂
Thursday was Phil’s birthday so Saturday a bunch of us took him to Piper Down, which happened to be celebrating Halfway to St. Patrick’s Day, complete with drums and pipes, Celtic dancers, and Tshirts (which I find random and hilarious).
We closed down his favorite bar and went to my place for cake. And drinks. One day, I’ll quit partying like I’m 21. Egad! But I’m writing today because, yes, he has a name and I like him so much I let myself write it. In fact, I like him so well he has a face and here it is:
Fit & Fab & 40!
I’m in deep smit.
I burned after all! I never felt so much like I was at Burning Man at home. Dalai-Mama named her house “Camp Letting Go” and, um, we did! Wonderful, wicked, warm, happy moments. I love my life sometimes. Then I sober up, ha!
It was, in fact, truly lovely. Also, wild. And all weekend!
“You’ll know I’m dead when the noise stops.”
On Labor Day, I walked over to my neighbor Mila’s place. He had a BBQ last year too, and to my great surprise and delight, Yerka had returned after five-and-a-half months in Thailand! With Tomash and me there, we were precisely the same four who reveled together last year. So it seems a new, deliciously perverse tradition is born: Labor Day with the Czechs! This year I threw corn-on-the-cob on the barby, but found out that’s an American thing. (Fun factoid, yeah?) I alone slathered it in butter. Yum!
I need a nap.