45 & Still Alive: A Self-Congratulatory Post in 3 parts:

45^th Birthday Post:

This year it’s time to step up onto my latest soap box: Sometimes you’re lucky to get older… These were Dan’s words, not mine, and I’ve reused them in several contexts by now, but wise words bear repeating, doncha think?

Part 1:

45 and Still Aliveku:

Another year here

Forty-five and still alive

With non-plastic face

Part 2:

I hear the face of LA is an unmovable sight these days. At least that’s what friends and ads the Instaworld commercials communicate to me.

My face moves.

My eyes water when I laugh and cry.

My mind wanders when I meditate.

My meditation moves…from a Thai monastery to a Georgian hallway filled with little kids screaming “Susie, Susie!”, reminding me of how I used to want to be famous. Try and teach that sentence structure and watch your life pass by…

Used to want to…

Follow my dreams of sitting on a talk show couch. I got close, but no cigar—posing in front of it as an intern for a picture.

Used to want to…

Act on stages and be recorded on film. I did that…but 2009 cut that short.

Used to want to…

Be in the Peace Corps. And now I have. What happens when a dream is fulfilled?

Dreams remain.

Even the ghosts of dreams, the ones outside of “Reality”.

In dreams, Grandma is flying…How can she fly?

In dreams, the Oscar is in your bathroom for irony’s sake and because you can.

In dreams, everyone you’ve ever met and loved is here, gathered in one room, motionless until called upon; ready and waiting to be called upon; hoping and wishing to be called upon.

Makes sense with eyes closed.

Eyes-closed dreams are one type of dream.

“Used to want to” dreams are those too often cut short with Logic Scissors. We listen to the crowds and the unmoving faces convincing us that Life is for the Young and the Restless.

But I’m young.

And I’m restless, but not because I want to be someone else.

My restlessness moves and shakes for the me who is and who is yet to be.

Part 3:

I am 15 and 30 and 5 and 45.

Today, yes, I am lucky to turn 45—lucky to turn anything at all.

And my dreams can be pieced back together with scotch or duct tape—there is no need for fillers and glue.