Post-Birthday Post-Script

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. ūüėČ

“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.”
freefall 2jumplaughing

I’m Purely Wicked

Let’s just compare, shall we? The kind of energy people choose to put out there. Now granted, the energy I’m going for is needy and obnoxious. “I’m so cute! Adore me!” But really… I’m so cute! Adore me! And anyway I’ve long said, “I want someone to adore me, because I WANT SOMEONE TO ADORE.” I dress to inspire happiness, laughter, whimsy. I dress to attract beautiful, playful, [hopefully-]kind¬†people.

And granted, it was Halloween. There were ghouls a-plenty, and appropriately so.¬†Oh, I’m going straight to hell, and I’m sure to delete this later. But it’s that time of year again, renewal, readjustment, recommitment. I binge¬†on food¬†and purge¬†emotional bile ’til next year. Every year. Hm. Now… I gloat. What do you think¬†this person is putting out there?:

Seriously Awesome Make-Up

I’m sure Rudy wouldn’t appreciate me using his photography in this way, but this is really under my craw… ’cause here’s another picture of the real reason I’m sad. My darling Tomas. My heart hurts.


He really nailed it this year! The American boxer(s)? Come on! He rarely lets himself get tipsy – the consummate host – but he let himself go this night and there was no understanding his accent, haha!

Slightly Post-Halloween Party

Rudy snapped me before I could powder and lipstick. :)

Rudy snapped me before I could powder and lipstick. ūüôā

It was bound to happen. “Don’t worry,” nearby revelers reassured me. “We’ve all complained about her.” Tomas’ girlfriend picked me Saturday. She tried to pick a fight with me at the last party, but I played it off so gracefully I actually won her approval. Not so lucky this time.¬†

She began stomping around and mouthing off. When that didn’t work, she thrust my [GIANT]purse¬†into my gut¬†and ordered me to leave.¬†

“Oh,” I laughed. “Okay.”¬†

“Yeah, do you read? It says, ‘Do Not Enter.'”¬†

“I had Tomas’ permission,” I answered, laughing still, and left.¬†

So the cab driver drops me and I realize my wallet is missing. I can’t pay the man. “Sure,” he grumbled. Shit.¬†

I called Tomas the next morning. “Oh Christie, sorry. I’m so sorry. She can be so crazy sometimes.”¬†

“That’s okay,” I answered honestly. I told him I’d misplaced my wallet and could he look around for it? (I found it later.)¬†

“Thank you. You handled it¬†so well. You were classy.” I don’t get called that every day. ūüôā¬†

So today I’m greeted on Facebook by the most psychotic non-apology from this girl. It was mad, seriously mad. Well, here:¬†

Miss Christie, this is¬†______ Tomas’s GF I want to apologize about the party. I was rude. It was, however becoming very annoying /exhausting when / others kept entering the bedroom clearly marked “don’t enter” ( a lady does need a safe place for her purse tho!)I was acting as the hostess, bouncer, bartender bla bla & talking to my dear friend, who I love n’ haven’t seen in years, leaving tomorrow. I miss and love her and I kept getting interrupted… it was frustrating as hell. etc. Accept it or not I’m extendeing an olive branch (with ZERO prompting from Tomas) You have a charming bouyant demeanor ~I was misread as ingenuine perhaps. since I started dating Tomas people have verbalized how I need to “prove myself worthy of him” and it hurts deeply. And when I set your bag out in the living room there wasn’t anyone on that side of the split room not even passed out futon chick. So if you are/were missing something, i’m sure it wasn’t from here. Tomas said you had your ID/credit card -so wouldn’t that those been IN the wallet?! If I see you again I promise to treat you with respect. whew! THE END

But it wasn’t the end.

actually tomas made me right this so whatever

I replied, “i asked tomas for permission to store my purse in his room as well, and he gave it. i didn’t say you took my wallet. i said i lost it and asked if he would look around his place. you did, however, shove my purse in my gut and kick me out of a party my friend was hosting at his apartment. the end,” and added, “if we chance to meet i will never be unkind. i can be civil. i hope you can too. that is all.”

Have I started a war? I feel like I held my ground legitimately.¬†I won’t be pushed around. By whom? A crazy woman? Let her dig her own grave and stay far away from the shovel! I don’t suppose I’m in any danger… really.

Kirt and Jerry’s Baby Shower

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. ūüôā

Happy Daddies

old friends

old friends

Inspired Costuming


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. ūüôā

Fit and Fabulous and Forty!

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.

Rest from My Labors

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.