It's my Burfday
i'm 28 yrs old. to give you an idea as to what a big jump
that is from 27 let me replay my conversation today with my
"happy birthday, birthday boy! how old are you now?
"no, i'm 28."
silence on the other line
"oooooooo. well that's okay!"
the rest of that convo was her trying to persuade me not to
jump from a ledge.
i worked half day today. god i love being my own boss.
sure it's fucking torture and a bitchload of work at times,
but the fact that i don't have someone telling me what to do
is amazing. but of course not one to be lazy i went ahead
and took it upon myself to mail our christmas cards.
the first post office was a no go, the line was out the
fucking door...i am continuously impressed by Americans'
ability to stand in line no matter how long. that would
have been a fucking free for all in austria or india.
at the second post office it was a bit better. i finally
got up to they guy who gave me the vulcan sign to say hello
(postal employees are just flat out not normal). then he
asked me as i purchased the stamps,
"and do you have a preference as to the kind of stamps?"
and then he pulled out a row of hanukkah stamps. no these
are christmas cards. i didn't want fucking hanukkah stamps.
but then i didn't want to tell him that i didn't want them
because a) i had already said i didn't care, i would
essentially be amending my statement to "i don't care as
long as they aren't jew stamps") and b) i felt like it would
be really anti-semitic of me to say i didn't want them.
motherfucker. i know why he gave them to me, because he had
a HUGE roll of them and next to no christmass stamps. poor
so here i am. taking it easy. well to be honest with you
i'm not. i'm trying to figure out how someone in our
"financial situation" (a euphemism for "no money") can
afford a house. we found an absoultely beautiful house at
a killer price. i feel like we could afford it. although
how do you ever really know? it's deifnitely at a fire-sale
i hate falling in love with material objects. but god damn
that would be a great house.
well i guess we'll see what happens.
for right now i am going to sit back and enjoy being 28. i
will sit back and wonder how grandmothers are able to time
mail so perfectly. packages and letters from everybody else
came days earlier (or will be coming tomorrow) but juliann's
grandmother's letter always arrives on my b-day. i swear
she is like a mastermind at the postal service.
i just picture her sitting in her kitchen with the lights
turned off. juliann's mother enters...my birthday card is
on the table in an envelope.
juliann's mom: "don't you want to send that...it's getting
oma: "patience my child...patience...we wait."
mom: "well we sent ours two days ago."
oma (with knowing smile): "yes and it shall arrive early."
next day...letter still there, juliann's mom getting more
and more nervous: "we should send it...send it now!!!"
oma: "no...we wait...wait for it."
oma at the post office: "you are gonna send this muh-fucka
and you are gonna send it grandma mail, it will get there on
the date that i have written down here, because if it's not,
i'm gonna come back here the day after and hold up the
entire line buying stamps...do we understand each other?"
postal employee (gulping): "yes ma'am...the 14th..."
how else could you explain this timing?