Saturday, July 28, 2012

Happy Birthday To Me...

Yesterday (Friday, July 27th) was my birthday. Number 48. As is often the case, the older one gets, the more ‘old age’ jokes are thrown their way. I had a few tossed in my direction, and I have cracked a few myself. In all cases, they are said in the spirit of fun.  There’s always room for that. Well...some of that...

Yeah, that’s me in the picture. New to the world, with not a worry in sight. Whenever I see a baby, I always think about the fact that I was once that size. That we were all once tiny, innocent (in my case 'chubby') people. I still have a couple of my old baby dresses with matching frilly panties. They were hand made, but I don’t know by whom. Every once in a great while I would come across them looking for something else buried in my closet. Wrapped in tissue paper, I would take out the dresses to look at, marveling that I was once small enough to wear them. They are still in incredible condition.  They could probably be worn again. To be a baby again with not one idea or belief stamped into my brain cells. To start from scratch. From time to time, I think we all have wished that we could start over. That we could erase the things we regretted. That we could do the things we valued over again, and maybe by revisiting them make them better. Obviously, we can’t do that. In this life, we forge ahead and make the best of it. We experience things as they come, and the road markers known as ‘Birthdays’ are one of those things.

Birthdays don’t mean the same thing to me as they did when I was young. In those long past days, I loved being presented with a brightly decorated cake, the blazing candle on top promising me a wish. The excitement of being presented with wrapped packages containing surprise goodies. It was my special day. Another path marker on my route to adulthood. I encountered some rough times growing up, so having those special and positive moments that were all about me…well, they meant something.

These days not so much. Do I think of myself as old? Sometimes. I definitely feel ‘old-er’. In the grand scheme, I’m really not old. I suppose one person’s 48 is different than another person’s 48. Mentally, I feel younger than my age. I have a great sense of humor, and dole out my share of silliness. I enjoy playing video games and watching Anime. Watching scary movies, and exploring the world of the metaphysical are also in there.  I am prone to the occasional celebrity crush (any of my friend’s on Facebook who have seen the plentiful photos I post of Chris Hemsworth as “Thor” can verify that…*grin*...actually, I find it all as funny as other people do).

Physically, I don’t have crow’s feet creased into the outer corners of my eyes, and my brow is unfurrowed. I don’t sport the wattle under my chin that some of my age have. I feel I can safely say that I look a bit younger than my age. (I wanted to post a picture of myself here, which is COMPLETELY out of character for me. I dislike having my picture taken for any reason. Posting my picture on my bio was hard enough for me to do, so the idea of posting a picture of my visage in a blog post…I think “repellant” would be a fitting word. Throwing caution to the wind, I decided to go against my grain and post one. This one’s from several years ago, but I haven’t changed, really.  Plus, I recently got a hair trim, and I have decided that it makes me resemble Professor Snape a bit too much for comfort.) As far as the rest of my frame, I do have problems with my right hand and wrist, and my right knee. Often, trying to put my hand to use can be painful (an annoying thing for someone who likes to create with their hands). All of the time, bending my leg or walking is tricky and hurts. I’m also prone to headaches, and insufferable and tediously long bouts of insomnia. I have Graves’ Disease (hyper-thyroidism), and Rheumatoid Arthritis. In some respects, my body not only feels like it’s falling apart, it is falling apart. I’m not complaining, really, as that solves nothing. I accept my condition (albeit reluctantly) as one can only do what the doctor tells them to do. After that, you just have to figure out what you can do on a day to day basis, and figure out the best way to try and do everything else. Do I feel old? I have my moments. My body is starting to fall apart, and I’m not ready for that to happen. After all, I’m still young. I’ve got a bit more living to do tucked up my sleeve. “You are as young as you feel.” It all depends on one’s mental make-up. That’s what truly affects a person’s core.

My Birthday was a low-key one, which I prefer these days. Glenn, is ill. I have my usual ailments, and a monster of a headache that’s been raging around my skull for going on two-weeks. Aside from braving a quick trip to the grocery store to replenish some essentials, I avoided the heat and humidity by staying inside. I did get some cool prezzies from Glenn. Two neat books about Steampunk design, and a pair of Steampunk themed goggles. My dad and step-mum sent me a lovely card. A number of my Facebook friends filled my Timeline with Birthday wishes. All things considered, it was a good Birthday. Not what my young self would have liked, but completely fine with my adult self.

Happy Birthday to me…

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