Cumpleaños

As of today, I have been alive 11,319 days. I am old.

A birthday is looming in my future. These last few days before a birthday usually bring up strange emotions. Last year, it was ambivalence. 29 was unadulterated excitement. 2007 was peaceful. This year could be described as purposeful.

I’m feeling mortal these days. I hear the sirens call out around me and I read about people younger than me dying and it invigorates me to do more while simultaneously striking fear in my bones. It’s a perpetual state of conflict, I suppose. I close my eyes and feel myself falling, wondering where I am going to land. I feel in flux.

Truth be told, 31 slips off my tongue easier than 30. I am embracing my age. I feel a tiny bit wiser with every crack of my hip bones in the morning. I find the youth of my co-workers amusing rather than revolting (this means that I have finally matured). I feel a calmness finding its place in the new baby wrinkles in my smilelines. This getting old thing is alright; if nothing else, it means I have more time to do all the stuff I need to do.

I need to love another dog. I should learn how to cook a decent tamale. I want to dip my toes into the clear blue of the Mediterranean. I want kiss under the stars and wrestle in the mud. I want to buy skates and try out for roller derby. And I want to see you, whoever you are.