Another Year, Another Trip to the Mechanic

So, this birthday, my 32nd, has so far been unexpectedly lovely. Yesterday when I got in my car to head up to Bemidji until Thursday, my car broke down (well, more like it never started up). It is currently in the shop, and I am awaiting the bad news. This has had repercussions that affect my whole week. One is that I missed the workshop of one of my pieces. This is not a big deal, as the professor is not a stickler, and we will just do it next time I am there. But still, I always look forward to workshop day. Another thing is that I missed having drinks with a friend for the second time in two weeks. This sucks, because we've been trying to get together. And the third is that I will miss my birthday celebration in Bemidji, which likely would've consisted of pints and a veggie melt at Brigid's with friends. This, too, sucks. Plus, for my birthday, I was going to buy myself some sandalwood lotion, which is (of course) on sale in Bemidji. So all of those things are unfortunate. But here is the nice.

I am stranded at my house today, just me and the pooch. I have no method of transportation, and so am forced to stay here and do whatever I want all day long. For no good reason at all J and I both woke up before sunrise this morning (this is not a regular occurence in our house - not even annual), and so just snuggled and talked and watched the sun rise through the windows. Then he made me coffee just the way I like it - very strong with lots of milk. Then he gave me two chocolates for my birthday - a truffle and a mint meltaway - which I promptly ate because, well, chocolate for breakfast. That and it's my birthday. When I was a kid we always got to have cake and ice cream for breakfast on our birthdays, and I guess I've never grown out of that.

So then, J left for work, and I took a wonderfully long shower, scaldingly hot, just the way I like it, and put on the brand-new lounging outfit my moms sent me for my b-day. I may be the princess of loungewear, but I learned from the queen. Softer-than-soft cotton pj pants and shirt, a fleece hoody to go over it, and fuzzy chenille socks for the feets. If I had my druthers (I've always wanted to have my druthers), I would wear this gear every day. Who am I kidding? I do wear this gear every day, except those three days per week that I am student and graduate assistant extraordinaire. That's right. I wear pjs more days a week than I wear clothes. Perhaps the coolest thing about being a student/struggling writer.

Anyway, and now I have all day, in my cozy clothes, to myself. I know that a mud mask and painting the toenails are in order - it's not often I'm so deliciously girly, but my b-day does that to me. Also, nice long sunny walk with the pooch. Also, pick something delicious to make for dinner and call j with my grocery list (he has promised to take care of the cake). Those are my only plans. The rest, I think, will unfold.

It is shaping up to be another breezy, cornflower blue fall day, my favorite kind. I love that my birthday is in the nicest part of fall (of course, that's just my opinion). I think perhaps jumping in leaf piles might be in order. But wait, then I'd have to rake the leaves first. Although, that might be fun. Plus, then I could light them on fire (after I'm done jumping in them). The smell of burning leaves would be an excellent birthday present to myself. And so would fire. Leaf fires are another favorite fall tradition of mine. I think some of it stems from a childhood in Chicago followed by a move to the remote suburbs when I discovered, to my delight, that you can just burn stuff in your yard in the country. How cool is that? It still feels slightly illicit to me, which is probably part of the appeal.

That's right. I'm a rebel.