One That Matters

Today is the birthday of my best friend and running buddy Nanner.  We met about 6 years or so ago...like most relationships that are meant to be...completely random and haphazardly.  I was in sales and she was in marketing.  One of my hated cold calls turned into one of the best friendships of my life.  I was at her 30th birthday get together...it was the first time we went from work interaction to real life.  (Note I just finished off the bottle of liquor I gave her that year the last time I visited...I know her better now...I no longer buy her liquor.)  We went to drag queen bingo together and she brought me stacks of movies and kept me company when I was on house lock down from having my neck screwed back together.  She took a picture of Beaver when he was wearing his neck brace and emailed it to me with a conversation bubble above his head so that he could do movie reviews.  It was the beginning of my alter ego expressing himself.
She was the one I turned to when my marriage went horribly wrong and I had no place to go and no one to care.  She's been there as I've picked the pieces up time and time again.  We share the same cynical possibly jaded view of the world and its inhabitants.  And she's one of the few people that I seriously do no worry about offending...not that I worry more that I can't.
We've shared the ups and downs of our 30's, many a cocktail and woos and maybe a drunken shadow puppet or two.  We've been mistaken for sisters or chicks that prefer comfortable shoes more times thank can be counted.  She told me I'm the only person from her 30th party that she still speaks to...I'm glad its me.
Happy Birthday Nanner.

38

I'm kinda sorta a few days late on my birthday writing.  Partly because weekends kick my ass at work and I don't have a lot of free my mind time and partly because I had to get my head wrapped around it.  Not really sure how I feel.  A big deal was made about my birthday by my Velcro and friends that I've only known for a handful of months that most likely do not know my last name.  Of the two that were there from the start...one is dead and the other, I'm beginning to come to grips, doesn't care for me so much.  At least not as a person...as an idea I'm holding onto hope that she does.  I hate that...I hate that I've filtered myself so much for so many years trying to not disappoint or upset for being so ragingly different.  Only to still not be liked.  I prefer if you're not going to like me that I give you a big fucking reason for why not.  For the longest time I just felt rebellious but now I know that its just who I am and I've grown into it quite well.  I've been told more times than I can count "That's not the way you were raised".  I didn't get a call on my birthday from her...
I feel amazingly grateful for the people who are in my life by chance or more likely fate.  They are the ones that make me feel important and special.

I made a random observation the other day to Velcro and once again my unaverage girl knowledge surprised him.  None was the answer when we tried to figure out how many chicks would have known what I was talking about.  Then he says to me "You are one of none".  And I like being that girl.
I realized this morning how much more I like early mornings and prefer the sunrise and clean cool air and birds singing vs late nights drinking to the desperation samba being danced in smokey confines.  I am aged out...and I am happy about that.

What I Am

I am unappologetically non-conformist.  I buck the basics of society that most people govern their lives by...marriage, religion, breeding and the art of consumerism.  I own better than I rent.  The two times that I've signed leases I've broken them...and the same can be said for marriage licenses. 
I take the next logical step but without over thinking or planning out the next 10 steps to follow.  I feel entirely too young to have smile lines but at the same time I feel like I've lived so many lives before. 

My house is packed up...yet again.  This little island has been the only consistent thing in my life.  For 20 years now...its been there.  I remember the feeling of relief that I felt for all those years when I would drive down and cross over Highway 17.  It's the same feeling I feel everyday now...not having to contend with the real world....the one that exists away from the ocean.  I've sworn to never leave the coast again....I have found me a home...in a sense.  And I'm not now...just migrating a little tiny bit souther.  Unfortunately it will not be enough for the weather to suit my clothes but its that next logical step that I pride myself in being able to find with very little effort every time. 

There's good in everything.  Seeing the waterway from my rented deck.  Grilling for yourself at lunch time on a Thursday with a cold Corona.  Going to miss those things.  Think I may miss the complete lack of obligation...the idea that I could pick up and haul ass at any given moment.  I like the idea of it but it makes me feel restless and unsettled and dangerous at the same time.  Looking forward to not feeling that way. 

So if something calls for a tablespoon of vegetable oil and you just spray the shit out of it with that oil in a can stuff...does that count?  I'm still always gonna be just me.