enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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still living :)

So I've had an interesting twenty hours.

First, my hip is not ready for running. I ran a little bit last night but the hip is tendon-y and I should really be a bit more patient. It's not terrible, however.

Second, I became convinced last night that I had cancer. I won't explain the details of the ridiculous thought-rollercoaster that I jumped onto, but the long and the short of the experience is that I found some completely painless bumps in my mouth that are in fact simply bony outgrowths. Apparently not too uncommon and not dangerous. Which makes sense because they don't hurt and I had never noticed them before. I have to go to the dentist soon so I will have these checked out but I am pretty sure that I shouldn't be worrying.

I am starting to feel like a hypochondriac. A thirty-six- year-old hypochondriac. I am vaguely worried that I will be a TERRIBLE hypochondriac as I age further and more and more things begin to fall apart, fall off, sag, etc.

There is no doubt that getting older is challenging.

So I should feel great about life and I do.

I am probably not dying. I awoke this morning to the sound of a man banging away on the front door of my house. I went to the door, pants half-on, only to discover that it was a delivery of flowers. Completely unexpectedly, a friend sent me a gorgeous, somewhat architectural flower/greenery arrangement. It is absolutely exquisite. Now I feel like an absolute shit for not going to Toronto to see her race tomorrow. It was utter selfishness for me to not go. I just didn't want to spend my birthday at someone else's birthday party, which is what was on the agenda for tonight.

What else? Oh yes. An hour after the flowers arrived another delivery arrived with a box of chocolates! I am not accustomed to getting so many gifts and I was absolutely not expecting them. The friend who sent these also had to pay a surcharge for delivery on the weekend, particularly since it is mothers' day weekend. It was incredibly kind of her to do that.

The truth is that I would have been happy with no gifts and just the phone call with the singing of happy birthday, and the few strands of lily-of-the-valley that I was able to pick and put by my bedside. I know that sounds disingenuous but it is actually true. I am always expecting things to go wrong for me, for the worst to happen, so I never hope for good surprises. I don't think I merit them.

Anyhow. So I am fortunate. I am happy that I am probably not dying...this month, anyway. I am OK. I am really OK. It's been a long year but I think I can really be happy now. I can really be grateful for what I have. I am whole.

Well, except for the broken wing, as they say in running speak.

I'm going out to rent Br3akfast at T1ffany's.

I can't believe that I am 36 years old!! I really can't believe it. (I was conceived in the summer of love--how's that for funny?) Somehow it seems a better number than 35, though. There's a kind of symmetry to it. It is divisible by more numbers. It means that I have come exactly three cycles in Chinese years since I was born. It is my year, the year of the dog. Whatever that means. I don't know. I don't have any particularly good reason to like this age but I feel that it is exactly the right age for me. It's like that line from a novel that I always liked, "I looked in the mirror and saw the red nose and the bleary eyes, the not-pretty face, and realized that I have exactly the right face. I have the right face for my life." I know that that is a cheesy sentiment but that's how it feels. It feels like I own the years rather than the other way around.

So there you go. From hypochondriacal ninny to self-satisfied woman of wisdom, in the span of twenty hours. What more could one ask for?

5:59 p.m. - 2006-05-13

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