Today is my birthday. Or, that is what I’ve been told, and I suppose I have no real reason for doubting its veracity.
Normally, the boys have a show, and I go, and it’s my birthday show, and we dance against the inevitable awareness that this human suit is aging still, and oh, it makes no difference. But today is different, because I haven’t lately had enough time alone with my ghosts and angels, and things are about to get very busy. So today I have resolved to stay home, read books, and watch movies. I bought myself Portrait of Jennie, Wings of Desire, which was one of the first foreign films I saw, and The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, which has one of my very favorite Bernard Herrmann scores. I also bought myself four books, which I can’t possibly finish all of today, but once I get going buying books, it’s hard to stop.
Tomorrow is for dancing. Today, I am luxuriating in story.
I have reached a point in my life where I have everything I need. I don’t imagine requiring anything I don’t already have for the rest of my life. So this year, I am finally going to start working toward having the things that I just want. I may make a list of those things at some point, but wants are flighty, so it may not be necessary or relevant, really, to do that.
However, I am pretty excited about fencing classes. And I want to buy archery tackle of my own, so I can continue practicing that. Two things I have absolutely no need to know, unless there is a zombie uprising at some point, at which time they will have become things I need. There’s a weird flux between wants and needs, I’m finding. Still, on to the wanting.