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BIRTHDAY

1 April 2015, 13:00

Okay, now that I feel all head swimmy and shit, I feel like writing.

It’s glorious outside, and for this little minute, I am totally, utterly content and happy – no guilt about not working – just enjoying the brain damage I am causing by treadmill torture. I’m sure there is some psychological damage being done. People just don’t do miserable exercise over and over again, and be in their right mind.

My birthday is coming up. Death is closer. I can’t say I am youthful anymore. Jesus Christ, I’m so close to 50, I could spit on it from the front porch. The only thing I got going for it is I don’t look late 40s.

I’m not going to tell anyone. Well. You. But no one else. You are just 10 bots and 4 or 5 flesh and blood folk, so it’s alright. I’m not fond of birthdays. It’s just another thing that is ripe to be disappointing. Way too much expectation attached to it. Plus, it’s a time where, invariably you want stuff, you want people to give you stuff, and you want people to give you the RIGHT stuff. I just don’t want to feel the anticipation of that, because I never get stuff, I never get people to get me stuff, and I never get the right stuff. So, I don’t ever want to have hard feelings toward anybody for not putting my needs in the priority inbox. That’s just selfish. Things I DO want tho:

Red, for GOD’S SAKES and to save my SANITY, TELL LIZZY YOU’RE HER FATHER!

That’s about it.

Oh and I want Doug to stop dicking around and go to the doctor. He’s got XXXX wrong and YYYY happened and YYYY has never happened before. GO TO THE FUCKING DOCTOR. YOU HAVE HEALTH INSURANCE NOW. His excuse is, “Well, its gone away.” or “Well, I feel better now.” JESUS CHRIST ON A CRACKER GO TO THE DOCTOR.

Okay. Those are the two things I want for my birthday. Well. I don’t want to be 47. But that one ain’t happening. I think 38 or 42 were pretty good, I’d be those again. 28 was pretty righteous. Let me rewind to that. Still want to have my 47 year old brain though. It took a lot of shit to build a good brain like this, I don’t want to revert back to some dumbass again.

Thought of another thing I want. I want a girlfriend that lives in the area. Not a GIRLFRIEND girlfriend, but a friend that’s a girl, that I can stomach being around. I want to go to lunch/mexican patio/margaritas in the daytime every once in a while. I think it would help if I would actually go out and meet people, but that seems like way too much effort, for that off chance I find a person who isn’t a complete southern fried whackjob. The odds are stacked against me, on that one. I have one friend Brian, and I get along with him like a house on fire, but we can’t have sitting-on-the-patio-with-margaritas time. We do have complaining-about-our-lives luncheons every once in a while. I had a friend that was a girl about a year or so ago, and it was often we had the late two hour/beerful lunches. She was really cool and nice. And then, one day, never heard from her again.

I think the problem is I can’t find anyone in about the similar stage/setup in life as me. I have no kids, a lot of time on my hands, and fairly cynically snarky. I had a best friend in Wichita, but we grew apart and well, I’m not in Wichitty anymore.

I know it sounds like I’m kinda lonely and to a small extent, I guess I am. It’s only in context that every once in a while, I think that it would be cool to go to where ever they serve margaritas and have a patio with a friend and just babble in the 80 degree weather. All in all though, I pretty content. I love my online buds – because it was hard, took a lot of effort and I put in a lot of years to cultivate a small but exceptional group of people that will actually talk to me on a regular basis. These people, if you look at each and every one of them, are very exceptional in character, smarts and personality. I’m very lucky.

I’m old, but lucky. And its very warm out, the kind of warm that makes me extremely jovial. Just wish I could get out of this chair, but my feet are burning and all hurty.