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Today is my birthday.
Somehow, I've managed to make it through 43 years on this planet. Forty-three. That's not a terribly large number, looking at it from this side of it, but that felt absolutely ancient when I was 16, or 25, or even 30. I mean, it was on this day, THIRTEEN years ago that Charles and Melissa threw a birthday party for me, invited my closest friends, and helped me say goodbye to my 20s. It was on this day, 12 years ago, when Scott -- who was then my roommate -- and a couple of people in my WoW guild, were the only people to recognize my birthday. It was on this day, 33 years ago, that my bunny rabbit's music box quit playing. It was on this day, 21 years ago (I think), that I didn't hear from ANYONE on my birthday except my brother, who I picked up and ran around with (this was corrected that weekend, but at the time, it was overwhelming). Heck, it was on this date, 22 years ago, that I sat on the hill behind the house in Munford that Kevin shared with his parents, reveling in my first legal drink (it was champagne).
I actually worked today. I didn't stay the whole day, but actually got up and went in to work. I realized, halfway through my day, that I will never work on my birthday again, if there is any way I can help it. I work on computers, and Windows 10 displays the time and date real big on the login screens. I don't recall exactly what the time was, but sometime shortly after my break, I realized that seeing "January 7" felt weird. I won't say that *I* felt disconnected, but it didn't feel like my birthday, and I didn't like it one bit. I've always said birthdays ARE special and, at the very least, *I* should recognize my birthday, even if no one else does.
I should have broken habits today, when I left work. I meant to pick up at least a pint of Wild Turkey, because there ain't nothing better for coughs than a shot or two of Wild Turkey 101. I meant to go see Aquaman, but I think I talked myself out of it, because of the coughing. I should have gone to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and indulged my ludicrous love of kitchen utensils, cookware, bedding, and towels. I should have picked somewhere random, and driven there. The thing is, none of that really appealed to me today.
Instead, I came home. The place was empty, and I opened my new Death T-Shirt that came in the mail (the image is my Facebook wall photo: "You get what anyone gets... you get a lifetime."). Then, I sat down at my computer, for I had a plan. This wasn't in lieu of better plans. This wasn't a result of being unhappy and depressed. My plan today may have made me more than a little anxious and nervous, but it was borne out of something good.
My plan was simple: I was going to buy some brushes and paint, and get back into painting miniatures. I used to do it pretty regularly, back in the 3e/d20 heyday. However, as time went by, I acquired more responsibility and had less time to do the things I loved (I love how Kroger always pushed the concept of "work/life balance," yet never cared to see it happen). Painting minis became a thing of the past, even though I thoroughly loved it. I like to think that it was primarily because I had to set aside time to do it. Later, it was because the paints had dried up.
I picked up some brushes, a decent selection of paints (being an adult does come in handy from time to time). I even grabbed a few minis, so I could try my hand with some brand new poses. Naturally, I tried to assemble the group who played Eberron.I think I may have done it. We will see, pending my ability to come back to this hobby.
This wasn't the only thing I decided that I was going to do this year. I adore Philip Wesley's "Dark Night of the Soul," a collection of solo piano tracks that soothe and cradle my spirit, even if I'm nowhere near sleepy. Years back, I tried my hand at violin. I love that instrument, too, but I also knew that I wasn't interested in spending more money on getting it tuned. So, it has sat in my closet for these past six years. But I digress...
I used to take piano lessons from first grade through late fourth, I think. I learned how to read music (maybe not well enough that I could sight read as I played). I was even All-City once. Then I discovered baseball, and lost interest, since practicing on a piano in the house couldn't compare to playing baseball with the neighborhood kids.
I never forgot about my time playing piano, and I was always prone to let my fingers stray across a keyboard, if time and place allowed it.
So, sometime this year, I'm going to pick up an electronic piano, and see if I can teach myself what I've forgotten. I am doing this for myself, because I want to foster my creativity, to say nothing about how much doing so will do for my soul. I don't write like I used to. I don't read like I used to. I don't have friends with unlimited time to play RPGs once a week. However, if I start painting minis and learning piano again, I suspect that I will find a small sense of satisfaction from creating something again. I feel the pull to create something, ANYTHING myself, and I see no reason to hold myself back.
A friend commented that 5s are her number, citing a myriad of reasons. Well, I've always loved the number 7, and in numerology, 43 becomes 7. Is this a sign/portent for the year to come? Let's hope so.
Somehow, I've managed to make it through 43 years on this planet. Forty-three. That's not a terribly large number, looking at it from this side of it, but that felt absolutely ancient when I was 16, or 25, or even 30. I mean, it was on this day, THIRTEEN years ago that Charles and Melissa threw a birthday party for me, invited my closest friends, and helped me say goodbye to my 20s. It was on this day, 12 years ago, when Scott -- who was then my roommate -- and a couple of people in my WoW guild, were the only people to recognize my birthday. It was on this day, 33 years ago, that my bunny rabbit's music box quit playing. It was on this day, 21 years ago (I think), that I didn't hear from ANYONE on my birthday except my brother, who I picked up and ran around with (this was corrected that weekend, but at the time, it was overwhelming). Heck, it was on this date, 22 years ago, that I sat on the hill behind the house in Munford that Kevin shared with his parents, reveling in my first legal drink (it was champagne).
I actually worked today. I didn't stay the whole day, but actually got up and went in to work. I realized, halfway through my day, that I will never work on my birthday again, if there is any way I can help it. I work on computers, and Windows 10 displays the time and date real big on the login screens. I don't recall exactly what the time was, but sometime shortly after my break, I realized that seeing "January 7" felt weird. I won't say that *I* felt disconnected, but it didn't feel like my birthday, and I didn't like it one bit. I've always said birthdays ARE special and, at the very least, *I* should recognize my birthday, even if no one else does.
I should have broken habits today, when I left work. I meant to pick up at least a pint of Wild Turkey, because there ain't nothing better for coughs than a shot or two of Wild Turkey 101. I meant to go see Aquaman, but I think I talked myself out of it, because of the coughing. I should have gone to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, and indulged my ludicrous love of kitchen utensils, cookware, bedding, and towels. I should have picked somewhere random, and driven there. The thing is, none of that really appealed to me today.
Instead, I came home. The place was empty, and I opened my new Death T-Shirt that came in the mail (the image is my Facebook wall photo: "You get what anyone gets... you get a lifetime."). Then, I sat down at my computer, for I had a plan. This wasn't in lieu of better plans. This wasn't a result of being unhappy and depressed. My plan today may have made me more than a little anxious and nervous, but it was borne out of something good.
My plan was simple: I was going to buy some brushes and paint, and get back into painting miniatures. I used to do it pretty regularly, back in the 3e/d20 heyday. However, as time went by, I acquired more responsibility and had less time to do the things I loved (I love how Kroger always pushed the concept of "work/life balance," yet never cared to see it happen). Painting minis became a thing of the past, even though I thoroughly loved it. I like to think that it was primarily because I had to set aside time to do it. Later, it was because the paints had dried up.
I picked up some brushes, a decent selection of paints (being an adult does come in handy from time to time). I even grabbed a few minis, so I could try my hand with some brand new poses. Naturally, I tried to assemble the group who played Eberron.I think I may have done it. We will see, pending my ability to come back to this hobby.
This wasn't the only thing I decided that I was going to do this year. I adore Philip Wesley's "Dark Night of the Soul," a collection of solo piano tracks that soothe and cradle my spirit, even if I'm nowhere near sleepy. Years back, I tried my hand at violin. I love that instrument, too, but I also knew that I wasn't interested in spending more money on getting it tuned. So, it has sat in my closet for these past six years. But I digress...
I used to take piano lessons from first grade through late fourth, I think. I learned how to read music (maybe not well enough that I could sight read as I played). I was even All-City once. Then I discovered baseball, and lost interest, since practicing on a piano in the house couldn't compare to playing baseball with the neighborhood kids.
I never forgot about my time playing piano, and I was always prone to let my fingers stray across a keyboard, if time and place allowed it.
So, sometime this year, I'm going to pick up an electronic piano, and see if I can teach myself what I've forgotten. I am doing this for myself, because I want to foster my creativity, to say nothing about how much doing so will do for my soul. I don't write like I used to. I don't read like I used to. I don't have friends with unlimited time to play RPGs once a week. However, if I start painting minis and learning piano again, I suspect that I will find a small sense of satisfaction from creating something again. I feel the pull to create something, ANYTHING myself, and I see no reason to hold myself back.
A friend commented that 5s are her number, citing a myriad of reasons. Well, I've always loved the number 7, and in numerology, 43 becomes 7. Is this a sign/portent for the year to come? Let's hope so.
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