Reflections on a Birthday Weekend
“Happy Birthday, Ms. Robinson,” my student said. “How old are ya?”
“How old do I look?” I asked.
Big mistake.
“Thirty-nine,” he said.
Well. Ask a stupid question…
And so it started. My birthday weekend. A pain in the ass from beginning to end.
Don’t get me wrong, heartwarming events occurred. But, let’s face it, those are no fun to write or read.
Early Saturday morning, I got a Brazilian wax and European facial by the incomparable and awesome Linda Marie at Morning Glory Salon. She rocks. Effective salon treatments are a lot like my life: beneficial, hurts like hell, but ultimately kinda hot.
Later that night, I ate a great Japanese dinner at Jun with the family and a co-worker who politely asked that he and his wife join us. Of course, this is the same co-worker who belongs to New Life Church, gave me a “Convert or Fry” book to read and sits to the political right of Rove.
Good friends, though.
As a result, I spent an hour and a half over sushi and Edamame listening to how Al Gore is a wuss, Hillary Clinton is a demon, and Bill Clinton was the worse thing to happen to this country since smallpox.
After a rockin’ hockey game, I got home and talked online with one of my favorite friends, we’ll call him Jamie, from Tampa. Kept waiting for those birthday wishes and a “Can’t wait to see you next week!”
Not so much.
Apparently, I’m an aggravation. And birthday or no birthday, Jamie had some sh*t to say.
“Why do you ask a question and then f*ck it up with sarcasm?” he asked.
Umm. Because it’s part of my charm?
Love sentiments that include “you’re pissing me off” because “you pull some stupid sh*t.”
As if that's a bad thing? Christ. Someone needs a *nap*.
Then I woke up Sunday to the following voicemail message:
“Well, Katie, I left a message yesterday and you didn’t call me back so I’m sure you won’t call me today either. Therefore, I’m not wishing you a happy birthday even though you’re approaching forty. And you look like a vamp on your website. The last picture looked much better.”
Seriously, why am I surrounded by such characters who feel so comfortable giving me a hard time? It seems I take part in activities or conversations that reflect a common theme.
I don’t know. Does honesty beget honesty? On some level, perhaps I'm hoping to learn something. Or maybe I just enjoy their company. As much as I enjoy hair being ripped from my ass.
Beneficial, hurts like hell, but ultimately kinda hot. Happy birthday to me.
posted by kate @ 9:16 AM
5 comments
5 Comments:
Happy Birthday
I think we could all do with a little less honesty. When did honesty get to be all the rage? When the U.S. demanded that Iran halt it's nuke progras, instead of saying "Nope, we are going to keep at it," they could have just said, "okay, we'll stop" and the keep at it ... a lot less fuss that way.
And I must say, Kate, you don't look a day over 30 ;-)
Happy bday ...
Can you give me some details about the brazilian wax?. Does it hurt when it starts to grow out? Does it itch like when you shave?
Thanks Stogie and Chase. Thirty is better than thirty-nine.
Afraid of pain - I think the anticipation is worse than the actual event. Yes, it's uncomfortable and painful, but only for a second. Christ. I gave birth to two children at the same time and recovered from tummy tuck and breast reduction surgery eight months ago. So clearly I've got no pain tolerance issues.
There are topical creams you can use to ease back the growing out issues. Doesn't really itch at all.
Brazilian's the way to go, baby. Try it just once and tell me I'm wrong.
You love when people ask you these kinds of questions, such as afraid of pain's question, don't you? Come on, admit it. I rather enjoyed your John Edwards post. Thanks for more good info. He's a good man.
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