I’m not sure what time I was born exactly, but last night I couldn’t wait for midnight to strike so I could read my birthday present, which is a Calvin and Hobbes 10th year Anniversary book.
I’m listening to the Shins’ “New Slang” and it makes turning 26 easier. I think it’s the way the guitar is being strummed – easy, soft. Am I turning softer? Am I losing all my hard edges?
My parents called earlier and greeted me a Happy 25th birthday. I didn’t bother reminding them that I am now 26; it’s one of those beautiful mistakes where you become a year younger : If your mother tells you that you’re 25 instead of 26, who are you to argue? How can the woman who gave birth to you be wrong?
Haven’t been to work for the last 2 weeks because of a company strike. I thought I’d enjoy the free days but I’m going out of my mind. So, I scheduled what needed to be scheduled : a wrist-cyst operation, a trip to the dentist, a trip to the opthalmologist (spelling?). I was looking forward to meeting people today, but since it’s Tuesday nobody can come so I guess I’ll stay in bed and wait for Juju to call…
The sky is pregnant with rain and I just wish the water would fall and give in.
I think the best I’ve accomplished last year was to quit smoking cold turkey. The next thing I managed to do was find a job and to speak French.
I wish I could be more artistic again. I wish I could travel more. I wish I could be less shy. I wish I could stop being scared to start painting again, or to start writing again.
I’m always a bit emotional during my birthdays because it is usually that time of the month for me, so forgive me.
