I welcome my birthday much like people welcome the plague. While I pretend to enjoy the new internal struggles of ‘oh fuck, now I’m 34 and still haven’t made any progress towards what I really want to do with my life,’ I also pretend to enjoy questions about myself and my birthdayplans. I deflect.
It’s a strange thing…attention. It makes me slightly uncomfortable when it’s something I don’t have any control over. Birthday? I didn’t do anything to get praise for that. It just happened one day. It happened to my mom, mostly. I may have been 10 pounds and it may have been painful. Work hard and try to make something of your life? Meh…everyone does that, right?
I have no significant birthday plans. It’s -5 degrees outside right now. Plans? Really? I’m wearing two scarves for crying out loud! It’s a double scarf birthday!
As I reflect on my past year and sketch out a new framework for this coming 34th year, I try to remember all the things I used to want… the things that I told myself I wouldn’t forget to do when I got a little older. Maybe most of them are unachievable. But maybe they’re not! Good lord, I hope they’re not….
Yes. It’s a new year. I have to say, I’m tired of that whole phrase ‘New Year, New You!’
Why don’t we say Happy Old Year? Because no one really really changes like they think they will at midnight. I’ve never seen anyone click over into a new person. Have you? Nope. Never. We don’t change January 1st. We change over long hours, weeks, months, years…
We can choose to start adding in new habits or resisting sassy habits, but we cannot change.
Something I want to slowly change into is a somewhat decent writer. A comedy writer perhaps. Do I think I’m funny now? I don’t know…I don’t really think so. I know that I make myself giggle about strange, awkward situations in my head…but I really don’t know if I make others giggle through words. Am I making you laugh right now?
I’m not funny. I strive to be. That’s my new goal for myself. Not necessarily for this year, but forever. So, as you can see…I’ve signed up for a class through The Second City in Chicago. It’s an online Screenwriting class for now, and who knows what it could turn into. I think I’m ready for some honest critique and feedback. I appreciate all the times that you blessed readers like my posts, but I think I need a professional opinion. I need someone to tell me that I use those three periods too much or that I make too many run-on sentences or that they can’t visualize the brown, slimy banana peel that I may or may not have slipped on or to simply say that I have a good start and should keep working and revising and editing.