my first birthdate

Dec 8, 2005. 32 years young. today is the first time in my life that i get to celebrate my real birthday. not my INS Capricorn lie but my reclaimed Saggitarius one. only a few minutes remaining and i want to hold on to what’s left of this day. woke up early to creeking wooden floors and a fussy grey cat pushing up against my hands pleading to be pet. opened my inbox to e-card wishes from lucy in the sky. opened my inbox to frosty reminders of the road less taken. it was exactly what i needed to hear. thank you joe. i dress and prep for 2 big meetings. the mirrors play tricks on me. my hair is lifeless. my clothes don’t fit right. i really believe i’m fat. mars calls just before the madness of trying to get to a meeting on time. his voice was exactly what i needed to hear. always my calm before the storm. meetings go well. real well. so we line up design work for 6 months. this has never happened to atomic kitchen before. i feel nervous/excited/blessed. perhaps this year i won’t have to hustle so hard for performance gigs. no soap operas today so i’m not sure if jason got his life saving brain surgery in time. in the last episode GH brought back 80s rock star rick springfield as a brilliant brain surgeon turn brokeass drunk- the only one in the whole world who could perform such a risky life saving operation. we eat cheap thai food downtown. the pad thai was greasy & tasteless and the pad see ew was overly sweet. lunch lasts 15 mintues. i noticed the snow flurries in the middle of our 2nd meeting. was it a snow storm or a belated ticker tape parade for the white sox? i see a toilet clogged to the rim with poop the size of serena williams’ forearms. i think, isn’t this breaking some kind of corporate standard? i can’t wait to leave the tower of stone and glass. my baby brother calls. he asks me what i wanted for my bday. i ask him for a lifetime of facials. we both chuckle. it’s really not that funny. it will be good to see my family this weekend. my father has called me 2 nights in a row after getting off 2nd shift. he never calls me on weekevenings. i take these as signs. of what- i’m not sure yet. later, more bday calls from minneapolis and nyc. i miss the friends i use to have long & deep conversations with. i’m just not a phone person. i come home to a box of fuschia flowers. smile wide. anna’s stomach twists and turns as we are stuck in 40 min. traffic jam. the ride home should have been only 10 minutes. we eat brownies, salmon, pasta, and rice krispie treats. we shovel 10 inches of snow, dig anna’s car out, watch it skid out of control, and end up pushing it out with the help of 2 strangers. we come home to sit on a red plush couch catching up on reality tv: making the band3 and project runway season 2 – go asian designers! these are guilty pleasures. a plane skids off the runway at midway. yesterday at the miami airport, air marshalls shot a man to death. the man forgot to take his medication. i eat a rice krispy treat before sleeping. tomorrow i officially celebrate with friends, wine and desserts.