birthday

I've been neglecting the blog. For one thing, between my new position at work and many social obligations lately, I've had little time to write much at all. For another, I've been in the middle of a situation with a friend who has been unstable and, I think, self-destructive for quite some time, who I tried to give a nudge of support to in a way that wasn't wanted. Things went badly, things went irrationally, and I've been surprised how off-kilter this one off-kilter situation has made the world and my life seem for quite some time.

It's not a story I'm coming here to tell, but I think what I want to say, just to take the temperature of my life right now, is that beyond my worries about this person and what can be done to help this person, I just really, on the selfish side of things, needed a day like my birthday turned out to be.

In the morning as I sat reading the first of many lovely happy birthday messages on the computer, Stephen came in and asked if I would like a "wee" [hunching his shoulders up and putting a thumb and finger close together to show how wee] mimosa. Then the smell of chocolate croissants in the oven, and he was delivering his birthday card, meticulously photoshopped and lovely kooky as always.

We had a nice half hour of sitting in bed with croissants and coffee and then it was off to continue getting ready for work.

Mid-afternoon in the Marketing Department at Powell's, my new team ascended on me with pie. Blueberry-peach. And some sort of berry... rasp, black, marion? Huckle? I made a mockery of cutting the first slice and then made Michal take over.

That sugar high floated me through the afternoon to my next sugar high, at the break during Dangerous Writing workshop. Stephen brought a cake and Sage baked a cake, so we had more sugar than we knew what to do with. Sage's was banana.

The story behind that one: after the first Frozen Moment reading, a bunch of us had dinner at an Italian place to celebrate. As we ordered, I said I was so hungry, "I've spent all day on one banana." Dangerous Writers, specifically Mr. Tom Spanbauer and Mr. Sage Ricci, haven't let me live that statement down yet. So here was my banana cake, complete with a rather rude looking banana sticking out the top.

Stephen put the candles in, one for each. Color coordinated: yellow for the banana, pink for the chocolate raspberry. This is what happens when you're married to an artist. The extra banana on the side was from Doug, who had the same idea as Sage. And there was a bottle of wine from Doug and Tracey. Flowers from Nora. Prosecco and cake around the basement table, and then we got back to reading and critiquing pages.I didn't mind not having a party, not having the evening to lie around and watch a movie. After all the stress I'd been feeling lately, and on a birthday in which I didn't have a chance to be with family, here was my other family.

Then to top things off at the end of the day, a text from my brother: "I know it's your birthday and all but I've sent ninjas to assassinate you..."

Perfect.

I didn't get a picture of Nora's lovely flowers, but a few days later, with the window open, sitting at my computer feeling the wind come in [the wind suddenly coming in too strong], I was set upon by a sweet explosion for one last birthday moment: