Today is my birthday. Yep, I was born on Valentine’s Day. As is typically the case, I am single. It’s like some weird curse or something. Being single on Valentine’s Day is a fact of life for me that I look forward to with dread and disappointment each year. When I have been dating people on my birthday, I spend the entire day waiting for something terrible to happen, and people have actually broken up with me either on my birthday or right before. Sometimes I wonder if they can smell my fear or lack of trust. Who can say?
Psychologically and emotionally, I’m kind of a mess around my birthday. There have been years when I’ve had an amazing time with friends, like the time I celebrated my birthday in New Orleans with my cousin Tara and two of my other friends, Katie and Christina. Christina came all the way from Amsterdam to celebrate with us. That made me feel pretty special. We had a blast. My birthday fell, like this year, right after Mardi Gras, so we spent a long weekend hanging out in the Garden District and French Quarter enjoying parades, live music, shopping, and lots of food and booze with the locals before all Hell broke loose with crowds of tourists. I even got a spanking on my birthday from a guy wearing a leather aviator hat with goggles.
That was probably one of my most memorable birthdays and most cherished trips to New Orleans. We’ll have to repeat that trip one of these days soon. My sides were sore from laughing after that trip and my heart had swelled to epic proportions. Spending my birthday in the company of women who love me was WAY better than any romantic getaway with some chump who was too afraid to stick around as long as many of my friends have.
I don’t have any flashy plans to celebrate my birthday today. In fact, I have a bunch of writing to do and I am trying desperately not to succumb to the siren call of procrastination. But, I have plans to see Black Panther with my son this weekend.
Next weekend, I’m heading out to Pittsburgh to see Swan Lake with my friend Stephanie and I have an appointment to see my favorite tattoo artist. I’m hoping to run into some of my other Pittsburgh friends while I’m in town.
Friends have been wishing me a happy birthday on social media all day, and I’ve received a few cards. I don’t anticipate any flowers or chocolates today since I’m single, but I’ve been thinking about things I’d like to receive for my birthday if I could ask for anything. Some of the things are a little absurd, but hey, it’s my wish list, I can ask for whatever I want, right? So, here’s my birthday wish list for things I’d either like to achieve in the coming year or at least before I turn 50, and a few things that are purely fantasy…in no particular order.
- Sell my thesis novel.
- Finish writing the two novels I’m working on and start writing their sequels.
- Finish the backlog of unfinished short stories and submit, submit, submit.
- Eat more fish and veggies.
- Visit my friends who live far away.
- Become financially stable.
- Buy a house.
- Student loan forgiveness.
- Save for retirement.
- Go on vacation.
- Write a memoir about my teenage years.
- Start running again.
- Attend events where I can wear multiple costumes.
- Find the courage to start dating again.
- Sell the movie rights to a book I write and cast Jason Momoa in the lead role. Hell, he can star in it, produce it, or direct it. I’d just like the opportunity to work with him.
- Ditto for Michael Fassbender.
- Trump’s impeachment and imprisonment.
- Or, I’d settle for a “magic bullet” that takes out Trump, Pence and Ryan.
- Learn how to scale a climbing wall.
- Take an aerial yoga class.
- Go to a music festival devoted to Doom Metal.
- See the Black Keys live.
- See Bryan Ferry live.
- See Duran Duran for a third time live.
- See Depeche Mode for a third time live.
- Send a sympathy card to the Devil.
- Write love letters to someone I truly care about.
- Meet Neil Fallon and work with him on finishing the novel I started writing based on Clutch’s eponymous album.
- Discover that I belong to a family of witches.
- Trust myself enough to fall in love.
- Learn to love my own body.
- Meet a tall handsome man with a beard, tattoos, a stable job, who is single and ready to meet someone just like me. I wouldn’t be upset to discover that he’s a werewolf.
- See the aurora borealis while swimming naked at midnight.
- Travel to Hawaii, Spain, France, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Iceland, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Egypt, South America…you get the idea.
- Visit more museums and art galleries.
- Travel in the TARDIS with the Doctor.
- Start a monthly movie night for moms to drop by and hang out with wine or other adult beverages.
- Attend a costume party with Michael Fassbender dressed as Carl Jung.
- Stop engaging in online dialogs with strange men who think they know me within a matter of hours or days. I’d like to think that I’m more complex than that and pride myself in getting to know people over years of face-to-face interaction. You can’t know a person through their Instagram or Facebook or Twitter account. Unless you’re Trump. We all know that guy’s an asshole.
- Learn how to paint.
- Learn how to speak German and at least one other language while relearning French.
- Get more tattoos.
- Purge more than half of my belongings and be done with the clutter of my possessions.
- Write a will.
- Go to more drag shows.
- Date a transvestite.
- Own more shoes.
- Wear more vintage clothing.
- Form an female punk band called Vagina Dentata.
- Spend more quality time with the people I love.
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