Birthday Recounting

Pull up a chair while I recount the past week or so in which I have been unable/unwilling to update.

My birthday. An ungodly hot Thursday, the 28th of June. It began with multiple wakeup calls from my mother. She sweetly sang Happy Birthday to me, which would have been adorable at 10, but was downright infuriating at 6am when I finally answered the phone. I spent the first hour or so of my day fuming in bed as I tried to get back to sleep. I finally gave up and got moving.

Determined to get back on track, I went for a morning massage (gifted by my generous sister), followed by brunch with Joe, Monique and Becky at Nookies, an upscale eatery in Edgewater that I've been meaning to try. Lovely spot, good coffee, average chilaquiles. My favorite meal of the day with three of my favorite people. The stuff of birthday dreams.

Party Animals. 

After brunch, Becky dropped me off at work for a few hours. The twins had been talking about my birthday for weeks, but seemed unimpressed by the lowly birthday hats, sparkler candles and rice crispy treats I had provided. Look, dudes, if you want a swinging party, then you'd better contribute more than construction paper birthday cards with puff balls. Though they did add sparkly stickers. That was a nice touch.






After work, I went home to get ready for birthday drinks. I took my time getting dolled up (if not on your birthday, then when?). Joe said I looked beautiful. Then he made me take a few pictures of him. We headed to The Long Room, a dark and moody bar nearby that lets you bring your own food. We had packed an array of my favorite snacks to share: dolma, dubliner cheese, chocolate-covered bacon, homemade lemon-coconut bars. It was a lovely night of friends stopping by to celebrate and play a round of Cards Against Humanity.

Later at home, however, I found myself feeling a little...well...melancholy. I hate to be that guy, but I couldn't shake it, and I felt like a brat after all the sweetness my loved ones had showed me. I'd like to blame my sour mood on my rude awakening, but surely that can't be it. It's not that I resent getting older. After all, age is just a count of the number of times the earth has circled the sun since you were born. Few other astronomical occurrences get me down. Yet I felt decidedly weepy all day, despite the good times had by all. Is it all the expectations attached to such a day? What am I, seven years old again? My mom gets the birthday blues. She also manages to get Flag Day blues and Mexican Independence Day blues, so maybe that's a different story. But I did feel a little more sympathetic after my own inability to enjoy an otherwise perfect day. Whatever the reason, I sure hope this isn't the beginning of a new birthday tradition.

Priding

This was my view on the way to the grocery store Sunday.

by Joe

by Joe

Scenic.

by Joe

We enjoyed the parade in passing as we made our way there, but didn't stick around too long. I had bitten off a bit more than I could chew. First the grocery trip. My bike lock had frozen up, leaving me wrestling to lock it for a full 7 minutes in the sun-baked parking lot, leaving me frustrated and Joe impatient. We started the bickering. In a huff, I sent him home, determined that I would rather shop alone. I was wrong. The trip home was miserable and I felt very sorry for myself. Balancing too many groceries on your bike through a parade isn't fun no matter how festive it might be. What is it about grocery shopping that brings out the worst in us? Joe said it that morning before we left the house. "It's no fun grocery shopping together." As a couple that has fun together most of the time, it's a little jarring when you identify such a pattern. 

After the exhausting trip back, we wrestled with dinner plans. We had planned to make curry for the neighbors that evening, but now I was talking about going to the parade and meeting with some friends but then when would I make it to the beach like I had planned and Joe had to leave so when would we clean the house? Somehow I had managed to make this enjoyable itinerary felt stressful. Mustn't try to do it all at once. After all, this was my first day off in twelve. Finally I caved and canceled dinner. No one seemed to mind much. Joe got ready for his afternoon of volunteering at the library. He's been keeping his foot in the door at the branch where he did his internship. It would be the perfect place for him to land a job. It also prevents a gap on his resume. 

With a little post-grocery store breathing space, I hopped on my bike for a ride up to the beach. I sorely underestimated the parade's influence on my neighborhood. I headed east for the lake, but was obstructed by a marching procession of cowboys. I rode north but there were more nearly naked boys blocking my way. After several failed attempts, I managed to wind around the start of the festivities and head up through the hot traffic to Hollywood Beach. 

Considering that it's a well-known gay spot on Pride day, the beach was very pleasantly sparse. I was meeting with a group of friends to sun ourselves near the water. They all happen to be gay, but didn't seem concerned about the celebration. Rather than the holiday going on in my neighborhood, here it was just a lovely sunny Sunday hanging at the shore. That was far more of what I needed than the tension back on my block. After beers on the beach, we went for blue cheese burgers and sangria at Moody's, my favorite outdoor patio.

Sometimes you accomplish nothing by doing too much, and sometimes doing nothing does you more good.