OR: 35 Things That Made it Feel Like My Birthday This YearOR: What Happens When You Make Me Steak For Dinner at 8:30 PM
OR: What I Write When It Is 1AM & I Am So Happy I Can't Sleep
Last night, the moon was so bright here, that when I turned out all the lights in the house, it startled me. You could see everything outside. The fence posts, the tall grass in the yard, the clothesline across the driveway, the hills behind the pasture. At midnight, I tried to go to sleep, but was thinking about so many things. Eventually, I sat up in bed with my computer on my lap and wrote two pages of my novel, two pages that I’ve been needing and that I feel sure I will keep.
I woke again in the morning to find the sky an even steady pink from the sunrise. I let MaryEllen out, and then slept again until 10:30.
It’s 1 AM now and I suppose I’ve been trying to sleep for an hour or so. This time, it’s not the book that’s keeping me awake. I’ve been thinking about blog entries. I have to admit, I do that a lot. Pam and Gary, and Pam’s friend Kelly, got here this afternoon, and we talked about blogging a little, and about reading blogs. Pam was saying that she just hates the thought of spending any more time in front of a computer than she already does, and I understand that, but of course it’s not at all the way I feel.
The truth is that I would prefer letters, if I could have them. Of course Pam wasn’t talking about wanting to spend less time with words, this is a woman who is absolutely gleeful at getting to bring books with her on her upcoming trip to Tasmania, it really is the computer piece of it that she means. But I love the computer, because it’s the little way that I’ve been able to seduce people into the world of letters. I know that some of you just look at the pictures, glance a little at what I’m going on about, and that’s okay, because we are still somehow here together, and if you read just one entry here that you like, that makes you think about or experience your own day a little differently, well, that makes me pretty happy. If you just look at the pictures, and see the first blue sky you’ve seen all day after 30 straight hours of rain, then we’ve accomplished something there too, then, haven’t we?
But I also know that some of the emails I get every day contain words that would never have been said if we only had letters, and they are words I’m glad to have, whatever I had to do to get them.
In college, as some of you know and have evidence of, I was a prolific letter writer. I still have more stationary than probably anyone you know, and I have a feeling that by the time I leave this place, I will be back in the habit of writing letters longhand, and will again be someone who can be counted on to reward most letters sent to me with a reply, probably on nice paper, probably saying at least one happy thing, after all, there is always “My dear friend, I got your letter” to say.
But I wasn’t thinking about letters when I got up to get my computer again tonight. I was thinking about blog entries, and about the blog entry that would accompany the photo of our dinner tonight. I always take pictures when Pam makes dinner. Her dinners are always worth taking photos of.
I thought the title would be “My Birthday Party Arrived Today”, because that was how it felt when these three people and the other Irish Wolfhound I like so much got here, bringing two pies and a box of truffles, and all of the good food that we ate for dinner. To tell the truth, I had second thoughts about writing that it once again felt like my birthday today, when it has felt so much like my birthday so many times in the past month. It didn’t seem fair to feel like it was my birthday at Tomales, and then again when I got all your lovely packages and emails and cards.
I woke again in the morning to find the sky an even steady pink from the sunrise. I let MaryEllen out, and then slept again until 10:30.
It’s 1 AM now and I suppose I’ve been trying to sleep for an hour or so. This time, it’s not the book that’s keeping me awake. I’ve been thinking about blog entries. I have to admit, I do that a lot. Pam and Gary, and Pam’s friend Kelly, got here this afternoon, and we talked about blogging a little, and about reading blogs. Pam was saying that she just hates the thought of spending any more time in front of a computer than she already does, and I understand that, but of course it’s not at all the way I feel.
The truth is that I would prefer letters, if I could have them. Of course Pam wasn’t talking about wanting to spend less time with words, this is a woman who is absolutely gleeful at getting to bring books with her on her upcoming trip to Tasmania, it really is the computer piece of it that she means. But I love the computer, because it’s the little way that I’ve been able to seduce people into the world of letters. I know that some of you just look at the pictures, glance a little at what I’m going on about, and that’s okay, because we are still somehow here together, and if you read just one entry here that you like, that makes you think about or experience your own day a little differently, well, that makes me pretty happy. If you just look at the pictures, and see the first blue sky you’ve seen all day after 30 straight hours of rain, then we’ve accomplished something there too, then, haven’t we?
But I also know that some of the emails I get every day contain words that would never have been said if we only had letters, and they are words I’m glad to have, whatever I had to do to get them.
In college, as some of you know and have evidence of, I was a prolific letter writer. I still have more stationary than probably anyone you know, and I have a feeling that by the time I leave this place, I will be back in the habit of writing letters longhand, and will again be someone who can be counted on to reward most letters sent to me with a reply, probably on nice paper, probably saying at least one happy thing, after all, there is always “My dear friend, I got your letter” to say.
But I wasn’t thinking about letters when I got up to get my computer again tonight. I was thinking about blog entries, and about the blog entry that would accompany the photo of our dinner tonight. I always take pictures when Pam makes dinner. Her dinners are always worth taking photos of.
I thought the title would be “My Birthday Party Arrived Today”, because that was how it felt when these three people and the other Irish Wolfhound I like so much got here, bringing two pies and a box of truffles, and all of the good food that we ate for dinner. To tell the truth, I had second thoughts about writing that it once again felt like my birthday today, when it has felt so much like my birthday so many times in the past month. It didn’t seem fair to feel like it was my birthday at Tomales, and then again when I got all your lovely packages and emails and cards.
And thinking back on it, getting to take the road trip with Susan kind of felt like my birthday, but then, so did going to dinner with Kirsten before I left, and going to Stumbling Goat with Erin, Pam and Gena, and the baby shower I threw for Jenn felt like my own birthday party too, which is crazy, but not as crazy as you might think, since it turned out that the baby we were having the shower for was born on my birthday, and getting that email that told me that her baby boy was born on my 35th birthday made it feel like my birthday again too. And surely there has never been a day in my life that felt more like a birthday than the day I was in the delivery room with Kirstin and held Rhone in my arms for the first time.
I could go on about this particular November 3rd, because I have it on good authority that there are more packages in the mail, and I know for sure that there are leftover smashed potatoes and seven kinds of cheese for lunch and I have an email from Bobby to answer, and I finished my orange sweater tonight and can block it tomorrow and it will probably be ready to wear for real by the time it gets cold in the evening, and on top of all of that, Seneca Wallace has a win.
What I’m really trying to say is what I’m always trying to say on this blog. Every single time I write here I am trying to say I’m grateful for my life, and please don’t think that I don’t know I’ve got it good. I have to admit, I am grateful to the point of feeling a little guilty about it, of feeling like maybe I don’t deserve all this, and then I can’t help it, I want to point out that the year after my 34th birthday started with losing the man I loved in such a painful way, and that did not make this past year a good one.
But that doesn’t explain it, all this good luck and happiness, because even in that hard year, that same birthday that saw the end of that relationship saw the start of my time with my writing group, and that has changed so much about my life, including the fact that I am now writing to you from one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. And anyway, why do we so often want to buy our happiness with pain? Why do I? Why do I want to know if one outweighs the other, if I have broken even or am overdrawn? It shouldn’t work that way, especially since all the happiness doesn’t make that pain any less, and truth be told, I miss him still something fierce, even as I sit here so happy, writing about all the goods things that happened to me in the year since we’ve been apart.
Because I will certainly never doubt that I had happy moments as long as I have that blog entry with the ferris wheel, or the one where Ali told those ladies at Cascade Pizza that I’d be back next year, or the entry for the Summer We Were Single or the love letter after Nate’s visit. And there were a hell of a lot of things that didn’t even get their fair share of play on the blog, including knit nights with Regan and Alexis, and the night we celebrated at El Camino, not to mention the night Paul and I went there and I got to relive how much I loved having him as my work boyfriend back in the day, and then there’s book club which we have to do again when I get back, and red wine and lamp skewers at Portalis with some of those ladies, and there was Gary’s workshop with Dana, and the whole 4th of July weekend, not just the cowboys and clogs, but the dinner outside at a long table set with candles and with more loving family than I ever thought we’d get to have.
And maybe it just always feels like my birthday when I am with someone I love, who may also happen to love me, like those great times with my mom up in LaConner, going to the Skagit River Poetry festival, knitting and watching Pirates of the Caribbean, and there were good times with dad too, eating his homemade chicken noodle soup and hearing him talk about how cute we were when we were little, and last December there was that day at Peanut Butter and Ella’s with Candice and Amber, when I really needed the girlfriend love and really got it, and same thing with Lillian the night we went for gelato and walked around with me saying “I hate everyone” and both of us laughing because I so clearly love her, and drinks with Camille and Kristin were so good even though we were having drinks at that place that sort-of smelled like bleach, for god’s sake!
And who can say if it was a better gift for me or for Dawn that I got to be there for her beautiful wedding this year, and this summer there was that afternoon eating fudgesicles and sitting by Lake Washington with Kere, and there was Bumbershoot with Jeth, where we went to Flatstock, which he loves as much as Nate and I do, and where we saw that deer that I really want to put in my book, and I know I talked on the blog about going to Rat City Roller Girls with Dakota and Clay and Jenn and Chris, but oh the Roller Derby, and if I’m being honest, I have to admit that even though the whole love thing didn’t work out, that lost weekend in Portland over Christmas break really was great, and there are just so many other days when I was totally content being with the person I was with, like drinks at Sambar with Darren and while we are on the subject of birthdays, even Andy’s birthday party at Sambar (no, this blog is not sponsored by Sambar) with Caitlin felt like my birthday because I was with Caitlin, who I love, and everyone knows I love those baristas almost as much as I love a birthday.
So what I’m really really trying to say, is that if you write a blog, you are definitely going to have more fun. Okay, maybe it’s just that you notice it so much more when you think about writing it. My mom sent me a quote recently, someone saying that writers write in order to live their lives twice, and that’s not a bad idea. I do know that one of the great pleasures of this year has been doing this blog with you, Ali, and hearing from friends who confess to me that they read it, or even just check the pictures. I’m so glad we started this, and can’t wait for the next 228 posts bring. That, and…
...wow, I could not be more grateful for all the people who made the last year good for me. I hope you’ll all let me return the favor next year. That way no one (and by no one I mean me) will have to worry about being overdrawn.
I could go on about this particular November 3rd, because I have it on good authority that there are more packages in the mail, and I know for sure that there are leftover smashed potatoes and seven kinds of cheese for lunch and I have an email from Bobby to answer, and I finished my orange sweater tonight and can block it tomorrow and it will probably be ready to wear for real by the time it gets cold in the evening, and on top of all of that, Seneca Wallace has a win.
What I’m really trying to say is what I’m always trying to say on this blog. Every single time I write here I am trying to say I’m grateful for my life, and please don’t think that I don’t know I’ve got it good. I have to admit, I am grateful to the point of feeling a little guilty about it, of feeling like maybe I don’t deserve all this, and then I can’t help it, I want to point out that the year after my 34th birthday started with losing the man I loved in such a painful way, and that did not make this past year a good one.
But that doesn’t explain it, all this good luck and happiness, because even in that hard year, that same birthday that saw the end of that relationship saw the start of my time with my writing group, and that has changed so much about my life, including the fact that I am now writing to you from one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. And anyway, why do we so often want to buy our happiness with pain? Why do I? Why do I want to know if one outweighs the other, if I have broken even or am overdrawn? It shouldn’t work that way, especially since all the happiness doesn’t make that pain any less, and truth be told, I miss him still something fierce, even as I sit here so happy, writing about all the goods things that happened to me in the year since we’ve been apart.
Because I will certainly never doubt that I had happy moments as long as I have that blog entry with the ferris wheel, or the one where Ali told those ladies at Cascade Pizza that I’d be back next year, or the entry for the Summer We Were Single or the love letter after Nate’s visit. And there were a hell of a lot of things that didn’t even get their fair share of play on the blog, including knit nights with Regan and Alexis, and the night we celebrated at El Camino, not to mention the night Paul and I went there and I got to relive how much I loved having him as my work boyfriend back in the day, and then there’s book club which we have to do again when I get back, and red wine and lamp skewers at Portalis with some of those ladies, and there was Gary’s workshop with Dana, and the whole 4th of July weekend, not just the cowboys and clogs, but the dinner outside at a long table set with candles and with more loving family than I ever thought we’d get to have.
And maybe it just always feels like my birthday when I am with someone I love, who may also happen to love me, like those great times with my mom up in LaConner, going to the Skagit River Poetry festival, knitting and watching Pirates of the Caribbean, and there were good times with dad too, eating his homemade chicken noodle soup and hearing him talk about how cute we were when we were little, and last December there was that day at Peanut Butter and Ella’s with Candice and Amber, when I really needed the girlfriend love and really got it, and same thing with Lillian the night we went for gelato and walked around with me saying “I hate everyone” and both of us laughing because I so clearly love her, and drinks with Camille and Kristin were so good even though we were having drinks at that place that sort-of smelled like bleach, for god’s sake!
And who can say if it was a better gift for me or for Dawn that I got to be there for her beautiful wedding this year, and this summer there was that afternoon eating fudgesicles and sitting by Lake Washington with Kere, and there was Bumbershoot with Jeth, where we went to Flatstock, which he loves as much as Nate and I do, and where we saw that deer that I really want to put in my book, and I know I talked on the blog about going to Rat City Roller Girls with Dakota and Clay and Jenn and Chris, but oh the Roller Derby, and if I’m being honest, I have to admit that even though the whole love thing didn’t work out, that lost weekend in Portland over Christmas break really was great, and there are just so many other days when I was totally content being with the person I was with, like drinks at Sambar with Darren and while we are on the subject of birthdays, even Andy’s birthday party at Sambar (no, this blog is not sponsored by Sambar) with Caitlin felt like my birthday because I was with Caitlin, who I love, and everyone knows I love those baristas almost as much as I love a birthday.
So what I’m really really trying to say, is that if you write a blog, you are definitely going to have more fun. Okay, maybe it’s just that you notice it so much more when you think about writing it. My mom sent me a quote recently, someone saying that writers write in order to live their lives twice, and that’s not a bad idea. I do know that one of the great pleasures of this year has been doing this blog with you, Ali, and hearing from friends who confess to me that they read it, or even just check the pictures. I’m so glad we started this, and can’t wait for the next 228 posts bring. That, and…
...wow, I could not be more grateful for all the people who made the last year good for me. I hope you’ll all let me return the favor next year. That way no one (and by no one I mean me) will have to worry about being overdrawn.
XOXO
Heather.
Heather.
3 comments:
I just love you so much. I do.
~S
How can you write so much at one am? It makes my eyes hurt with the water that wants to leak out of them, it does!
xoxo
Ali
I've been training. Besides, it's easy when you don't have to get up before noon. Or 5, for that matter.
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