Tag Archives: birthdays

Kiss with a fist

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Kiss with a fist

Oh, Valentine’s. What a strange holiday. I decided to send one of my loves a video on the Facebook “kiss with a fist” because of the potential interpretations and started pondering potential interpretations…Is that song promoting domestic violence? Is it a secret lady love song? Hmmm. I digress.

My original purpose for finally posting after a being a fairly negligent blogger was to share some insight for my impending doom er, birthday. I am officially going to be in my mid-thirties rather than my early thirties….I am not sure how I feel about it. On one hand, I am more comfortable with myself than I have ever been; the realization of that has been enormous. No longer do I truly wish to be the size 4 of my youth, I am ok with what I look like and the size I am…Not to say I do not wish to be more svelte and healthy but I do not feel unlovable because I do not have a BMI of 20. I am more able to acknowledge my strengths and weaknesses without feeling too terribly defensive of either; unconditional love of self is amazing. Having someone do that for you to mirror is a gift.

I am growing more comfortable with the place that I live. Although I still have the inherent panic of “in case of zombie apocalypse where the f**k will I go and what if they blow the bridges and what if the Cascadia Fault goes, etc. etc etc.” HOWEVER, it is much more manageable.  I worry less and drink more. It’s a thing and I am OK with it.

I could go on and on about what I have learned just in the last year, but I will leave you with a mere ten vague thoughts, as is customary for me. Cheers.

  1. Do something different and uncomfortable and scary. It could turn out to be the best choice you ever make. Or it could be the worst…Either way, it’s an adventure.
  2. Never stop trying.
  3. Always apologize and sincerely, screw pride. No one is right, perspectives are just different.
  4. Glasses are great and all, but sometimes we all look a little better in soft focus.
  5. Drink more water.
  6. Drink more wine.
  7. Eat more chocolate.
  8. Have more sex.
  9. Always say goodnight.
  10. Just because A, B, C, D, and E did _________, does not mean F will.

That is all my loves. Off to get some birthday ink set up.

XOXO

Jani

33 AKA Oh, Adam.

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33 AKA Oh, Adam.

Once upon a time there was a boy named Chris who, under the influence of a great amount of hallucinogenics,  spent a great long while trying to convince me of the significance of the number 3 and told me of the number 33 being even more magic….

Well, yesterday, I turned 33 and I thought of him.

I had intended to write a long superlative post on the many symbolic, mystical and trivial things related to the number 33….But I heard this song on the way home and realized I am 33…while remembering when I bought this album, I was 19 and pregnant…33 seemed soooooooooo old and 17 seemed so recent. Gees.

Now this song means ever so much more.

All my Friends by Adam Duritz (Counting Crows)

Thought i might get a rocket ride
When i was a child but it was a lie
That i told myself when i needed something good
At 17 had a better dream
Now i’m 33 and it isn’t me
But i’d think of something better if i could

All my friends and lovers leave me behind
I’m still looking for a girl
One way or another
I’m just hoping to find a way
To put my feet out in the world

Caught some grief from a falling leaf
As she tumbled down to the dirty ground
Said i shoulda put her back there if i could
But everyone needs a better day
And i’m trying to find me a better way
To get from the things i do to the things i should

All my friends and lovers leave me alone
To try and have a little fun
One way or another
I’m just wish i had known
To go out walking in the sun
Find out if you were the one

Do you wanna come a little closer?
Do you wanna dance with me?
Do you wanna hum a little harder now?
Can you see her waiting there?
Can you see her? cause i’m almost there
Can you see her waiting there for someone like me?

All you want is a beauty queen
Not a superstar
But everybody’s dream machine
All you want is a place to lay your head
You go to sleep dreaming how you would
Be a different kind if you thought you could
But you come awake the way you are instead

All my friends and lovers shine like the sun
I just turn and walk away
One way or another
I’m not coming undone
I’m just waiting for the day

Mother’s Day and my boychild.

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Mother’s Day and my boychild.

I have been lazy with my blog; graduate school and life have been somewhat overwhelmingly paralyzing as of late. So many things are changing in my world, internally and externally; it is hard to keep up sometimes. I know others feel this way, I think it is a consequence of the technological advances, speed of life and perhaps just the global adjustments to energy fluctuations. Who knows why, but it is what it is.

So I have been trying very conscientiously to stay in the moment and to reflect on my feelings and the reasons behind those feelings.

“The beginning of freedom is the realization that you are not the possessing entity, the thinker…” ~Eckhardt Tolle

I digress.

Ok, so maybe trying to stay in the moment and yet reflect are opposing concepts, to some extent, but I am trying. BACK OFF!

Hm. Really what keeps coming to mind this week is the fact that my boychild turns 15 on Monday.

HOLY CRAP.

I remember where I was on my 15th birthday. I had just gone “home” to visit. I was there with my best friend, her soon to be husband, our friend L whom I was supposed to be interested in (cause it would have been very convenient), my first love, and a few friends. My dad made me german chocolate cake. I have pictures. Maybe I will attach one. But to remember that day so clearly, what was going on, the things in my head that I was thinking, its all very surreal to imagine my child being that old and yet being so different from me. Or is he?

I remember going and changing my clothes because the boy I was madly in love with told me he liked me better in a different outfit. We weren’t together. But I did it. I changed my clothes. On my muthatrucking birthday.

I remember falling over in the garage while smoking and hitting my head so hard I blacked out for a few seconds; I was more concerned that people would think how clumsy I was, than whether I had a concussion. I probably did.

I had been living on my own for a couple of years, with and without friends. I was doing things NO 15-year-old should do.

I had just gotten my HED, similar to a GED, back before they checked your id for those things.

My son, he does things his own way. Always has. He is not a cookie cutter kid, that is for sure. But he is probably the coolest kid you will ever meet. He reminds me so much of a boy I knew once upon a time, who has a really cool mom. She was constantly challenged, proud and intrigued by the boy. He grew up to be a really good, capable and smart man. I know my boy will too. The way his brain works fascinates and stumps me. To have been privy to his first verbally acknowledged thought processes, wonder about his secret ones and have him share with me his new evolving thought processes is a perpetual gift.

I like to think that he couldn’t live on his own, make his way like I did. But he probably could. He is much more capable than this Mama wants to believe. The conversations that we hold have shown me this. Rather than having a big expensive birthday and presents, he wants me to make him a cake. He wants his grown up friend Matt,  to spend the weekend. So I am going to drive to Eugene to pick Matt up. He doesn’t want me to spend money because money is tight. (which simultaneously breaks my heart that he knows and yet warms my heart that he is probably a little more fiscally responsible than I, because I would have maxed a credit card for a gift had he asked for one.)

He has his 5 year plan in progress. It’s different from the 5 year plan I had for him and the 5 year plan I had for myself at his age. But as he gets older, I realize more and more, it’s not my plan. 🙂 That is the point. I am not the thinker. I get to observe the thinker.

Happy Mother’s Day.