Another Sign of Old Agedom

Saturday evening I found myself at a birthday party for a little girl I'll call Ribia. I use this name in honor of Ribia's cousin, who can not yet pronounce her true name and has come up with her own adaptation. Ribia was turning three, and as we all know, being three is synonymous with curiosity, unyeilding excitement and energy that puts the Enegizer Bunny to shame. The birthday party palace, Jumpin'Jelly-something, was a warehouse filled with a huge adult-size blow-up jumping, climbing and sliding playground. With children bouncing and giggling everywhere, it was easy to forget that at my age, my tendons and ligaments are pretty secure and comfy where they are and they don't take too kindly to be stretched, yanked and pulled in all directions. As a matter of fact, the body gets quite cranky when forced out of its regular routine. So as much as I enjoyed being able to climb that 6-foot rockwall and throw myself down the slide on the other side, I am not enjoying walking around with an ice pack and being unable to move without pain today. Ah, the joys of getting old...

Addiction

I admit it. I'm an addict. Ever since I started this blog, my addiction to cyber life has been growing. I've recently crossed over onto a new frontier - facebook. And I can't stop checking it. My last blog post was simply justification for the ungodly amount of time I am now spending on the computer catching up with old friends. I'll have to truly restrain myself when I get the new computer hooked up and I can actually navigate the pages without my computer crashing.

Rumblings

Stasis. A great word. So truly captures the feeling of loss of momentum. That's what I've been feeling lately. Not completely so , though. My days have been full of reconnecting with old friends from high school, college and my time in New York. I was blessed to have so many loved ones to return home to when I left New York, but I find that over time I have been gifted with many other people that have never truly been forgotten. These people share my history and some piece of ourselves will always be bonded fondly because of a shared experience. I guess you can only turly begin to appreciate the meaning of friendship until you start to get grey hair. We talk about how people pass in and out of are lives, but rarely does anyone ever mention that they can pass beck in again, too. And I think that's miraculous. Anyway, my days have been full and rewarding even if they haven't been traditionally productive.

Another New Year

Another New Year has dawned and I can honestly say I'm happy where I am in my life. It's a good feeling. I know restlessness will begin again because contentment just doesn't seem to ride easily on my shoulders. But I'm okay with that too. Don't know what the next step in life will be, but I look forward to it when I decide to make it happen. Our New Year's Eve festivities consisted of our traditional Chinese food dinner and shrimp with cocktail sauce. Not at the same time, of course. The way we celebrate has changed over the years, as we get older and as new generations develop their habits. Not that I didn't or don't enjoy going out and having a rolicking and devilishly self-punishing-the-morning-after celebration, but I have come to enjoy beckoning in the new year in a low-key fashion with family and friends. I can remember when New Year's Eve was almost as exciting as Chrismas Eve. I can remember getting into discussions about which country is first to celebrate the new year and getting so wrapped up in the conversation that we pulled out the encyclopedia. When I was even younger we would get out all the pots and pans and make noise like holy terrors for the first few minutes of the new year. Then, of course, we would call everyone we knew to find out what they were doing. When I was younger there seemed to be more excitement and anticipation everywhere. New Year's Eve was a true holiday, not simply an excuse to get drunk, which is what it becomes for a lot of people. I've been there, too, and I'd tell you about it if I could remember. Nowadays, there's no special lead up the the ball drop. It sucks. I can remember the pre-peach-drop-in-Atlanta days. First there was the Baby New Year special with Father Time. Then came the Wizard of Oz. We didn't have a VCR or cable, this was the traditional yearly seasonal fare that was available. (Random Aside: The world started to go to hell right about the same time we could rent, then buy movies. When childhood memories become commodities, many of them cease to hold meaning.)This year, the boys chose the movie. Hellboy.

Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.