On the meaning of things…


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Fortunes are funny.

One day the smallest things mean everything…and another day the big things seem quite small and insignificant.  There are days when I look around at all the things I have and I ask myself what do they even matter?  What does the couch matter??  What is important?  Is it the organization of the shoes by the door? Is it the thoughts that I think?  In the end, you can’t take anything with you, but you can leave things behind.  How should they be left?

Can people feel thoughts?  Can you feel my imagination?

It’s amazing how something as small as a little piece of paper inside of a stale fortune cookie can make you think about life….even if it is sort of a cliche quote.

Ah, yes, the obligatory birthday post


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Today is my birthday.  I am now 34.

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 birthday plans.  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….