The problem with birthdays is this: they bring moments of reflection, whether good or bad. My 30th was a good birthday. I had low expectations and my girlfriends took me out for a night on the town. We all wore big Pamela Anderson style hats, and we pretty much cut it up on the dance floors across the Valley.
This morning, I woke up feeling a little hung over. Not from being drunk the night before, but from being sick. I made chicken mole (my favorite dish) in honor of my impending birthday. It was just me and my two girls who shared in the rich and delicious Mexican delicacy. And it was soooo good. After we’d all gone to bed, though, I was heaving into the toilet, praying for the claminess and cold sweats to go away. I rinsed my mouth and splashed my face with cool water, and went back to bed for a night of restless sleep.
Still feeling the pangs in my stomach, I had no choice but to get up. I am a single parent and a busy Realtor. I had both kids and contracts to tend to. I sold a house by 12:00 noon. I visited with my dad and step mom for a birthday lunch~spaghetti and meatballs and a wonderfully delicious black forest cake. They also gave me a mani/pedi at the hippest salon in Eagle and my sister gave me a very cool gift of smelly goodies for the shower!
I got a phone call at 5:00 indicating problems with the contract my client and I had executed earlier. Turns out the seller had received another offer, placing us in second position and now we have to tend to the details tomorrow. Argh.
I also learned my former broker had called my client and tried to get him to fire me and use her services instead~which is both illegal and unethical, but it’s a competitive market and I understand her desperation. Fortunately for me, I have built a trusting relationship with my client and he could see right through her!
And that was it. That was my birthday.
I guess I wanted what I’ve always wanted: a good morning kiss. A bouquet of fresh wild flowers~ orange gerber daisies and blue snapdragons, a purple hydrangea or two, some lush green leaves. A handmade card that says “Enjoy your special day.” I wanted someone to wake up to, someone I am madly in love with. Someone who had cuddled me all night, held my hair back while I vomited into the toilet, perhaps. Maybe a surprise wine tour and chocolates. Maybe breakfast in bed~hasbrowns (some a little crispy and blue), two eggs over easy, link sausage w/ maple syrup. Grapes. Juice. Rich dark coffee.
Nothing extravagant or expensive.
I started this blog to dissect my feelings, to get them out, analyze them and figure out where I am headed on this winding road of life and love. I want to stop this string of life’s little disappointments. I am so ready to feel in love, but I am not ready to jump at any old person who says all the right things. I’ve done that, and its gotten me to where I am feeling today. I want to learn from my mistakes, and I want to take the sage advice of those who’ve gone before me. Disappointment is a state of mind. Some have told me my expectations are a little too high. I completely disagree about this. I don’t really have high expectations, but I do have high standards. And it never fails; whenever I lower my standards, its me that sinks. I don’t want that anymore.
Contentment is mine to find. I am done looking in all the wrong places. I am going to start over by looking at me. I think that’s the perfect place to look. Don’t you?
35 was not a good day, but there are 364 1/4 days between now and 36. The odds are in my favor that my days will be content from here on out.
