FARTY FAR

Friday, September 12, 2008

So today, I turn 44. Or as they say in St. Louie, Farty Far.

I got a bluetooth earpiece, some shopping money, a necklace my mom made for me, earrings from my mother-in-law, and a book on Picasso's dachshund named Lump. And took part of the day off to spend with Don, who is now BACK.

I really don't need anything. (Well, except perhaps the earpiece.) As I sit here typing this, I am exactly where I'm supposed to be. I have a good husband and sweet little girls. Other relatives we love who love us. Great health, an exciting job, a caring business partner. Landscaping. My own side of the closet. Aside from the fear that we don't have anyone qualified to run the joint, America is pretty cool as a place to live. California hasn't fallen into the ocean nor burned to a crisp, and San Diego is a ridiculously gorgeous place to live. We have friends. And an abundance of choice in nearly everything.

I wonder what the next farty far years will bring. Funny, I don't have huge ambitious change that I'm hoping for. I'm really hoping to be blessed with more of the same. Cuz nothing's really missing.

I hope to be lighter, I suppose - physically, and emotionally. I believe I take everything too seriously. I think that probably sounds odd to you, as I can find the humor in just about everything - but I work waaaay too hard. Not just at work, at everything. For example, I'm helping Sarah's class with the reading program. I have to make a poster to help the kids keep track of how many minutes they read. Do you think I just slapped up the reading list on a posterboard? No. Had to have a THEME. You don't want to know. Really.

I hope to defy gravity better than I am right now. Checking into Wonder Bra.

I hope to give back more. The more I give back, the more I realize there's more to do. The more satisfied I become, the more it becomes apparent that the great bulk of people really are not.

I hope to become a better friend. Right now I'm a good employee, a good mom. Maybe not so good of a friend, a companion.

In this vein, I hope for a 36 hour day. Just for me. Everyone else has to stay on 24 or the extra 12 does not really allow me to get ahead.

I hope to kill off the wish for a 36 hour day (see: work too hard.)

I hope to learn even more about myself.

I hope to live long enough to become a burden to my children. For like, 2 weeks, and that's all.

I hope to allow life to surprise me more.

Sarah said her friends kept track and she laughed 62 times on Tuesday. I hope to emulate her.

I hope to always have hopes and not just needs.