Monday, July 21, 2014

Pre-Birthday Freak-Out

In one week I'll be sixty.
I'm having a real hard time with this one, y'all, which is not very enlightened of me and not very easy to admit but I am. My dreams continue to be of chaos and clutter, of anxiety and trying to drive over bridges that go straight up into the sky while I cannot truly see over the dashboard which is sort of funny and sort of terrifying, all at the same time.

This morning I put my arms around myself and realized that I wished someone were here to hug me. Just take me in their arms and hold me because sometimes the most primal thing is the thing we need the most. But of course Mr. Moon is at work and all Maurice wants to do is bite my hand and then run out to watch the chickens which is obviously her version of Cat TV and she can do that for hours. She may even think she is part of the flock. I have no idea. I can't begin to understand how a cat's mind works.

So yesterday when I stopped by the post office I retrieved a small package from my box. I knew that our Beloved Ms. Bastard was sending me something for my birthday and I didn't open it and this morning I e-mailed her that I thought I'd gotten her present and she told me to OPEN IT! and so I did and here's what she sent me.

Sorry that the picture sucks but it's the best I can manage right now. I do think that wearing it with my great grandmother's pearls adds that extra bit of class, although it's so damn classy enough on its own that it's sort of like trying to put glitter and sequins on the Mona Lisa, if you know what I mean and so now I do feel hugged and Maurice has come back in and is laying on the table and looking up at something I can't see with my human eyes unless she's studying the stained glass hanging from the porch and I have things to do and places to go and the boys will be here this afternoon and I'll try not to be so fucking whiney and pathetic and drive you and everyone I know insane with this stupid birthday thing and we all know I get whackadoodle around my birthday anyway.

Part of me wants to just get in the goddam car and drive off and see where the road takes me, wearing my new T-shirt and a long, petticoated black skirt, all my silver bracelets and my most dangling silver earrings, stopping off at dives and taco joints, sketchy-looking motels on the beach with rattly air conditioners, rusted screens and broken locks on the doors, casting caution and common sense and responsibility to the winds but oh Lord. You know I won't do that. Who would feed the chickens? Who would watch the boys? Who would pick the tomatoes and who would make the cornbread to go with the pot of pinto beans I've already started for tonight's supper?

And besides, wherever I went, there I'd be as the stupid saying goes and I'd still be turning sixty which is still ten or eleven years younger than Keith Richards and if he can still rock it, well, I guess I can still live it.

Thanks, Sher, my love. This shirt rocks my world and you know me so well.

Happy Monday, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon


  1. You are welcome. I wish I was there to hug you for real.

    You are now and always my heart and MY IDOL!


  2. OMG you really are my hippie sister!
    I am giving you a cyber hug ( )
    I hear you about the big 6 0
    What is it about that particular number that strikes such panic?
    What I wish is for you (and me) to just sink into it like a nice warm bubble bath.xxoo

  3. AWESOME shirt and hell yes, if Keith can still rock it, you can still LIVE it!

    I'm 62; if I can survive this, you sure can too...onward with silver bracelets, dangly silver earrings, and roads that soar into the sky!!!

  4. You asked the universe for a hug and you GOT ONE!
    60 is better than a great many things.
    I hate every damn birthday I have too. I just don't like the fanfare.

  5. You know, 60 didn't really bother me that much. I guess because my husband gave me a birthday party. It distracted me. But 61, yah, that one was a killer. And 62 and 63 and 64. Maybe I'm finally getting used to the 60s because 64 wasn't as bad as the others.

  6. Oh and that dream? I've had that very same dream, various variations of that dream, always driving up a steep, almost vertical incline, a bridge or something, scared shitless cause I know if I don't lose traction and fall backwards, I will definitely go into free fall once I crest the top and start down. And I do. Go into free fall. That's when I wake up.

  7. I'm two years away from 60, but my 40th was the bad one. I became the bitch from hell for almost a month, then proceeded to get drunker 'n a skunk on my actual birthday. When I got up the next my dear hubby said, 'be glad that this is the worst you'll feel for a while,' and that (eventually) brought me out of my funk. So, what the heck? Get drunk and get a hangover, and then realize that 60 is a good age to be!

  8. Great shirt and so good of Mrs. Bastard Beloved. I'm glad that she is well and still making comments. Not at the big 60 yet but fast approaching and frankly, I think that it will be just be another reminder that time is going too fast. Thankfully, I rocked it at the gym today so am feeling better about that.

  9. I am glad you have Keith in your time of need!
    I turn 50 in September and I'm not so freaked out - in great part due to how good you make sliding in to 60 look. I mean it.

  10. Ms. Bastard Beloved- And you mine. Thank you. So much.

    Yobobe- I know! My husband said he just blew right through his sixtieth. However, I do remember when he turned forty. That was a different matter. Perhaps he, unlike me, has gotten wiser.

    Rebecca- I so completely agree.

    Lulumarie- You are precious and wonderful and I love you.

    heartinhand- Get back to me when you're walking up the path to sixty. But yeah- I don't like the fanfare either.

    Ellen Abbott- Isn't it funny how we deal with such random things? You inspire me, though. You do.
    And that dream- it's a booger, isn't it?

    Catrina- This may well happen. In fact, I'd lay odds on it.

    Syd- Staying strong does help, doesn't it?
    And hell yes- time is moving too damn fast.

    Lisa- I may go into this one kicking and screaming. Why do we pin so much meaning to numbers?

  11. So much damn expectation around birthdays. I always have to get through them somehow. Sixty is just another year. Just another birthday. Try not to attach too much meaning to the number. It's just another day on which I and a great multitude of people love you dearly and completely and hold you close. Hugs, sweet woman.

  12. Sorry I am here late. I think it's normal to have anxiety around birthdays. So much pressure to be happy on top of the fact that we've taken another trip around the sun. You and Keith look so damn good together, though, that I see no need to despair. XO.

  13. Angella- I know. And it's ALWAYS expectations which mess me up. Always. Thank you for reminding me and for everything else, too.

    Ms. Vesuvius- You make me happy.

  14. So sorry I'm late to this post party. I wish you a happy and a lovely Birthday. I am with you, they are just not fun anymore, with my mind asking me how many more I think I'll get, or worse, how many functional ones will I get? So morbid, my inner critic. But hell, with all the aches and pains and indignities, it's hard to be positive.

    I was thinking about hugs just yesterday, about how very much I miss having my kids need to curl up close and get a hug to feel ok. They are great now, I'm the one needing the hugs. I'm not used to being in this position and it's unnerving.

    I love the shirt SB sent you, it's perfect. I wanted you to know I wore a lovely colorful and deeply cherished heart necklace while I was away. It made me happy.

    I've missed the conversations but am so happy to be able to catch up in huge doses.

    :) xo

  15. What a perfect gift for you! I have no advice about turning sixty, except to say the chaos will pass!


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