So: it’s my birthday.
Birthdays haven’t been big deals to me in years, although as I approach 40 they’re starting to be sources of trepidation. I have no party planned, other than having vague thoughts of seeing if I can get a few people to go to The Melting Pot soon. (Or perhaps the Zuni Café in San Francisco if I’m feeling particularly ambitious.) Tonight I’m likely to just go off to the biweekly writing group as per usual, even though I’m tempted to go home and make some kind of crazy tiki drink instead. Maybe I’ll try and invent one of my own! I do have my own recipe for a zombie, a least, which is a decidedly non-trivial operation.
I could make a crazy tiki drink and bring it to the writing group, but I’m not sure I have enough to make crazy tiki drinks for everyone.
Anyway, yes. Birthdays. My thirty-ninth year has the potential for involving more change. Soon I’ll be living in a five-person household and having a longer commute than I’ve had in many years (about 35 miles each way), and as I’ve written, this may end up motivating me to get over my grand dislike for moving—even though I should note I like both of the people planning to move in and think it’s cool I’ll see them more, and I’ll be able to do a lot of the commute over fairly pretty roads. I have many things to weigh, ultimately including just where it is I’d want to live if I did move. So far I don’t have an answer.
For a lot of the past few years I’ve felt like I’ve been in retrograde, that I’m going through the motions I should have been going through a decade ago. I still feel like I’m a year from thirty rather than forty. I’d like to think that means I still have a long life ahead, because I’m clearly behind on where I really should be at this point.
Well, not that clearly, since I can’t define should in that context.
Where will I be when 40 actually hits? I don’t know, honestly. This current job is, after all, a contract, even though I have hopes of it running at least as long as the Cisco gig did. My mother would very much like me to move back to Florida close to where she is. Yet other than her presence, and my friends in the Tampa and Orlando areas, I don’t feel very grounded there (beyond the sense of familiarity that comes from three decades in roughly the same place). I rarely write things that sound spiritual, but I believe people have connections to the land, and those connections are stronger or weaker depending on whether they’re in the “right” area for them. So far I’ve felt more connected to the west coast than the east, and—while I should explore both areas more—pulled more toward the northwest than the southwest.( But here’s a present—the zombie recipe. Collapse )