this time every year.

Today is my birthday.  Or, to be precise, [x] years ago on January 11th, I was born.  So I guess I’m celebrating/observing/marking my birthday today.   And, like on January 11th of every year since I was probably about 12, I take a moment where I think to myself: Okay. Wow.  Y ou’re [previous age as of yesterday + one] now.  Does it feel weird?  And it always does.  And I’ve wondered when that won’t be the case anymore, when on some January 11th in the future, I’ll be my previous age as of yesterday + one, and I’ll think:  Huh.  Well of course this feels perfectly normal.  Hello previous age + one!  It feels so good to be you!

Until that magical moment happens, I intend on commemorating my annual moment of utter alienation by consuming a lot of good food with great company.   There’ll be Brucie tonight, Del Posto tomorrow, and possibly Vinegar Hill House or M. Wells Diner this weekend, in addition to a wee party at the local.   I’ll also have the Leica for the weekend, so I’m pretty excited all around.  There are worse ways of looking alienation in the eye, no?

[Photograph taken presumably by my mom, of my father and a two-year-old me, completely skeptical about the innocuousness of swans.  I love this photo.]