11:59pm and I'm sitting in my sun chair looking at the moon, kind of annoyed at myself that I didn't turn off the porch light because the backlighting is making for slightly sub-par night sky viewing but I want to be in my chair at midnight to ring in 29. (Russell must've put a new bright bulb in the lamp, I don't remember it being this bright.) At 11pm I decided I wanted to cross something off my to-do list before the new year and finally put the ancient Alice in Wonderland book pages in the frames I purchased this week. (Not super nice frames because they're expensive, but good enough I think.) I still need another frame. At 11:51 I determined I could spend the last few minutes of year 28 being strong and busy, so I carried all of our weights upstairs in advance of tomorrow's party. First the 15lb pair as they're our mid-size option, then the 25lb pair which started out easy until I couldn't fit my hand between the weight rack and the wall and forgot I could put down the weight in my other hand, then the easy 8lb pair and delivered my worn copy of A Director Prepares to my office bookshelf. The third floor thermostat clock said 12:00 but I knew it was early so I sassily glanced at my cell phone which declared it to be only 11:56 and headed outside. Here I am. (It's actually 12:09 now since I've been writing this.)
I'm really happy with right now. A simple descriptor, but it works. I'm happy with the work that I make, happy with how I treat other people and myself, happy with the relationships in my life, happy with who I've come to be at present. As a twenty-something female I can sit here and acknowledge the amount of time I've spent trying on different identities, making some poor and/or laughable choices, and wasting time deserting myself, especially in my teenage years. Somewhere between then and now, closer to this side of the scale, I realized I don't have to try anymore and that I really like me... However awkward and ridiculous and awful (creative?) at punctuation that I care to be. I'm very lucky to have 'happy' in my life in this too often disgusting, unbelievably warped world we are all living in at present.
Another unraveling birthday tangent... I'm 29 and I feel just accomplished enough. Incredibly motivated and eager to keep forging onwards for the next several decades, but not displeased or resentful of past choices. Nope, I haven't been awarded a MacArthur genius grant as a 20 year old dance wizard or anything of the sort, but I excitedly know what I'm about to start making right now, in the land of new art, and I have so many individuals in my life that trust me to make work for them that I constantly get to rediscover such gratitude. My work ruminates on observations of my immediate world, which allows me to process and self-improve and hopefully to set a pattern and a precedent that might reach a few other people. I get to do what I want, professionally for myself and for others, I also get to study what I want and constantly learn. Cool.
Wrapping this thought spew up because I refuse to use conventional bug-spray and I think the mosquitos found me. Also I heard a rustling in the privet hedge and skunks and opossums come out in the city at night; I'd like to have a skunk-scent and rabies-free birthday celebration. Also-also I want to go admire my framed Alice and read a decidedly un-academic gruesome detective novel in bed until I'm too scared to fall asleep but I fall asleep anyways. I hope this is always adulthood. See ya, 28.