Happy birthday to me...

I guess. I mean, sure, why not? I turn 43 tomorrow, though I feel and look a lot younger (sounds corny, but it's true). My sister in Florida says I act much more like someone in her 30s, and I agree. I don't feel 43, whatever 43 is supposed to feel like. I don't look middle aged--in fact, the term makes me cringe. I guess if I'm going to live to 86, that's technically correct, but my grandfather turned 96 (!) on April 6, and if I have his good genes, I won't be middle aged til I'm 53. So that's 10 years from now. I prefer to think of it that way, or to say that 50 is the new 40. Or whatever. Because I exercise pretty much every day, b/c I'm single and doing stuff all the time, b/c I wear GAP clothes, etc., I am so now what I think a 43 year old should/would be (or is). So age is really just a number. I used to think a birthday was a big deal. It used to be fun. Now it's just another year that's passed, and a new one that is just beginning. That's really all. Some years are better than others, but you have to try every day to make it as good as possible, or as worthwhile as possible. That sounds ridiculously corny and Zen, but I do believe it.

It's one reason I dislike work, at least the CONCEPT of work--it pays the bills, it gets you out of the house, and there is quite a bit of worth to educating students--but I think of all the things I'm NOT getting to do every day. I don't get to go to the beach or Walden Pond to walk, to sit and contemplate, to read and write and breathe in fresh air or smell and taste the salt and walk on the sand to the sound of the calming waves. (Nothing in the world is as nice as sitting on a beach, watching the pink sunset, and listening to the surf.) I don't get to see the US or the world; I've been to maybe 10 states, give or take, and four countries. There's so much I haven't experienced yet. I don't want to wait until I'm retired (IF I ever get to retire, which doesn't look too likely right now) to get to travel and to really live. I still think that if I had one day off a week (Fridays, like I did last fall), it would help a lot, b/c that's the day I could write, and exercise, read and watch movies, and just relax, and know the weekend wasn't crammed into two short days. It doesn't look like I can get the time next fall (stupid reasons like everyone can't have that, but I have been at my college for ELEVEN years, and I have five weeks of vacation per YEAR, and you'd think that would count for something, though apparently not so much). And really, I do need more time to write.

Someone just posted to one of my blog entries that I need to find out more about writing. To that person I say, um, huh? I do know what commedia del'arte is, I have an MFA in Creative Writing, I've taken playwrighting courses, and I'm reading Gary Garrison's books on writing the 10-minute play and "keeping the drama out of your life and into your writing" (or similar). So I do the research, and I just need more time to work on the craft. Time that is precious and fleeting, b/c there just isn't enough time, and so much of it is spent in an office, doing mundane tasks (and that's for nearly everyone, and less for me than for many other people). Anyway, there it is. I am going to see my parents tomorrow for a trip to Newburyport (an annual outing, which isn't far from their home) for lunch and maybe a pair of earrings if I can find some I like. (I'm not girly, and I don't wear bracelets or necklaces or fancy rings, but I do like cool earrings.) And my nieces and nephew will call to sing happy birthday, which is incredibly cute and always makes me feel better.

And tomorrow I can put off writing, stop thinking about the audition I had Saturday that resulted, once again, in my not being cast (PLEASE, don't let me audition for ANYTHING anymore, no matter what I say), stop thinking about the play festival rejections I have received and may well receive in the next weeks or months, in the plays in which I'm stuck, in the boyfriend I don't have, in the condo I don't own, and so on. I can think about how lucky I am to have loving parents and sisters and nieces and nephews, how lucky I am to be able to exercise every day, how lucky I am to have nice co-workers and students who appreciate the work I do, how lucky I am to live in Boston, where the subway is so accessible and where there are always plays to see and paths to walk and bookstores to shop in and architecture to admire and restaurants to try. For one day, I can just be. And I can try to make this a year where I am able to just be more often. It's a worthwhile goal. It can't hurt to try.