Well, today I turn 38. I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm never really going to age gracefully. And by that I don't mean I'm going to go and start popping Rogaine or check out on the price of facelifts and whatnot. I'm just going to be mildly annoyed with the whole idea of getting older and hate kids.
I also have my lovely wife reminding me that I am, in fact, old. This is the one thing they never tell you about marrying a woman who is younger than you are (Cathy turned 30 back in December). That while they will love you and be wonderful and all, they will also never cease in reminding you how much younger they are than you.
The one thing I take some comfort in is the commentators saying Barack Obama is too young to be president and he's 46. So, you know, 46 is young. Then again, he's eight years older than me and has a reasonably decent chance of being the next president of the United States. So it's best not to look into that analogy too deeply.
Anyway, as an age, 37 wasn't too bad. I travelled to Ottawa, went home for a couple of weeks and had a nice vacation in Florida and a Caribbean cruise. My health is still good, albeit I'm still weighing more than I hoped for a year ago. I said I was going to lose 50 pounds. I might have lost 10.
I started a novel that's now sitting around 125,000 words. Plus I managed to sell a couple of freelance stories, write something in excess of 300 blog posts. And work continues to chug along just fine. I don't mind it and it pays me exceedingly well, which is certainly a step from a couple of years ago.
And myself and Cathy continue to be very much in love. I'm not saying there aren't the occasional hiccup or challenge, but hey, welcome to marriage.
So yeah, that's a pretty good year, all things told. So what's the plan for my 38th year?
1. Finish the novel and shop it around to agents.
2. Do at least 300 blog posts.
3. Try and do the odd freelance piece just to keep in practice. Plus, they're a lovely tax write off for expensive toys like cameras and computers.
4. Get back at the gym, which I stopped doing around October. Drop about 20 pounds.
5. Travel to New York and Italy.
6. Try and overcome general hatred of telephones and call friends and family more often.
7. Get off the computer more and spend more time reading books and with Cathy.
8. Continue to control temper at curling by not cursing.
And really, that's about it. I think that's a good enough list for now. If I get most of that list accomplished, I think 38 will be pretty good. Granted, I'm going to have to start gearing up for 40. There's a tradition of small breakdowns in my family among the men when they turn 40. My uncle bought a Corvette. My dad bought a convertible Camero and fled to Toronto. I turn 40 in January, so my options are somewhat limited, especially if we're still in Nunavut. Still, I'll have to come up with some kind of spectacular meltdown that year. Any suggestions?
Last Five
1. Mutiny, I promise you - The New Pornographers
2. Bittersweet symphony - The Verve*
3. Gloria - U2
4. Old Dan Tucker - Bruce Springsteen
5. Bluenose - Stan Rogers
10 comments:
Happy B-Day!
"But a lifetime of happiness! No man alive could bear it: it would be hell on earth." - G.B. Shaw
Happy belated birthday anyway, Townie Bastard!
Happy birthday!
Don't even try to stop cursing during curling. You not cursing and ranting? I don't see it happening.
I've been told, from several different sources, that the cursing and "tantrums" are not nearly as charming and endearing as I like to think they are.
The freaking out when missing a shot I have mostly curbed. The not cursing will be a challenge, to be sure.
Why not continue to control temper at cursing by not curling?
Never! Not playing is a ridiculous compromise.
I doubt TB is half as bad as legendary bad boy Orest Melsechuk (MB). Even Martin and Middaugh had fierce tempers in their younger days. Many think Wayner still has it in 'im.
Curse away, TB!
Hey laddie, sorry for the delay, but Happy Birthday. You don't look a day older than how you feel.
Cheers
Dups
You know, I essentially quit curling from the end of high school until I picked it up again when I moved here. And one of the reasons (other than cost) was that I didn't like how I acted on the ice. I didn't like the temper I had and how competitive I was.
And in retrospect, that's a silly reason to quit. I should have worked harder at being a better person when I curled. And I might have missed an opportunity because of that. I was pretty good at 18. Not provincial junior champion good, but I was in the top 10% at the St. John's Curling Club among the juniors. And who knows what might have happened if I stuck with it?
So I'll just try and be better now, although with the occasional bit of profanity. And who knows, maybe I'll still make it to a nationals one day. Although at this rate it'll likely be the senior nationals.
Happy fucking birthday!
Profanity is endearing and I must admit I have a hard time keeping mine under wraps, but my location makes it a little more important.
Oh - "curling" and "bad boy" don't belong in the same sentence, I don't care if he sucker punched somebody with a rock, it just sounds silly.
Happy belated birthday from the depths of my hibernation.
I hereby predict that, if you're in Iqaluit for your 40th birthday, you will have a mild nervous breakdown, and go out and drop about 25K or more on a brand new, top of the line, sexy, red snowmachine. You will then take up the fine sport of jumping that sucker over puddles of open water.
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