Nhime Ahheinteen

"Nhime ahhein teen by murrf daye do taye"

Does anyone else remember Kermit's "Frog Prince" and the princess who couldn't speak correctly and sing that song she sings when it's your birthday? Yeah - me too. Or maybe its just a dyslexic kid thing.

*reminder* start at 6:30 or so

You know its been far too long since you've been on Blogger when the interface is totally different from the last time you were here.

HI EVERYONE!!!

Sorry I've been in a self imposed cone of silence, bloggily speaking. It's been for a mixture of reasons and circumstances but I'm here now and that's the material point is it not?

Things are as they ever were. I'm mainly in the thick of thin things, happy thin things, but thin nonetheless. I've been in a media coma of sorts. There are so many blogs and books and albums to get lost in to distract you from the hard things in your life. One could disappear for years if they wanted to. I always pull my cards a little closer to the chest around my birthday. I get introspective and pensive, a bit self-deprecatory and even sometimes a little panicky.

I've suffered a birthday curse since I was about 16. Things usually melt down in some fashion or another and tears are usually spilt. Mine, my mother's or both. So, for the last 3 years or so I've tried to either ignore the fact (which I'm rarely allowed to do. Mom thrives off of ceremony. One year she wouldn't stop ranting till a cake, a candle, some blowing out and a song were in play so we found a bagel and dinner taper candle, lit it, sang and there was end and mom was placated.) or have something low key.

When I've left festivities up to mom in the past it usually ended up with a scavenger hunt for microscopic bottles of saffron (Rachel - testify!), mountains of bread, backwards meals (ie: dessert first and soup last). Meals that Babette would envy mind you, but backwards nonetheless and a general fluster of angst and non-birthdayness.

This year I was a bit scared because not only was it a birthday but I was turning 30. Yes, I am 30. I'm OK with it. It's a bit of relief. It's not this social grim reaper looming outside my car window every time I pulled up anywhere and behind me during post-fireside over-refreshment introductions. It's here and the reaper isn't so bad. He has a good sense of humor and doesn't mind dishes.

Yes my ring finger does feel more naked than it did before and I did have a mild nervy b at the temple the other night when I took to heart a comment a medical type person made informing me that after 35 a woman's chance of a complicated pregnancy goes up exponentially and I realized I only have 5 more years to have a family and even if I did I would be ancient and retired by the time they got out of high school and I had just blown it. I also dealt out a good deal of censure for waiting so long to get serious about settling down. Not that I've never not been serious about marrying and starting my family, but I've never felt any urgency either. I dunno, it was an interesting session for me. Had I been anywhere else it might have been an absolute meltdown instead of the nervy b that it was. So yeah - my womb is shriveling as I type and there seems to be very little I can do about it...

Back to the birthday -

Mom got to throw a party. I specifically instructed her "No themes. No sparkles in any form, no maypoles, no costumes". I know my mom, these limits were necessary. If she could have looked up skywriters she would have. Toya went ahead and made a 4' maypole (which I adore in my heart) though. We went to my favorite mom and pop Indian place. Invaded would be a better word I think, all 25 of us commendeered 3/4 of the physical space and all of the emotional space the place had. Half of North India was in full garb and having a wedding in the room next to us which made the night that much more fun. It was one of the best nights of the year for me.

My favorite thing to do is nothing with my favorite people. Add some garlic naan and some funny stories and the Celestial Kingdom can't be far. Not *all* of the favorites could be there, they're scattered across the US and the rest of the world for that matter, but the ones that made it were fantastic. Patrick got everyone telling their favorite Liz stories (and if you have one I'd love to hear it). Wendy recorded the ones that were told there and is threatening to YouTube them, and if the world wants to hear about my Irish accent exploits at the Getty and loosing my glasses and calling in stupid to work, by all means - tune in.

It was a marvelous night. I really think this one broke the curse. I think I might be in the clear for normal birthday times from here on out. It wasn't the road trip up the 1 in a convertible Mini that I was hoping I'd do for my birthday, it was better.

Mom got all my favorite white flowers and made these sprawling centerpieces (sorry about the stinky lilies again Rachel) and there were mylar balloons and yummy gourmet suckers and glow sticks and noise makers and mint chutney and friends and friends and friends with nothing but love and stories and smiles and giggles. It was amazing. It was a night that could have warmed anyone's heart, naked ring fingers, shriveling wombs and all.

How can anyone feel sheepish and defeated about turning 30 with so much love around them? I don't know. I really don't. I am a blessed and amazed girl and if I could adequately tell everyone in that room, or those who wished to be there, how much I love them and how much it meant to me that they were there and giggled along with me I could. But I don't think I can. I get all glowy and warm inside just thinking about it.

And present speaking I got art, tea, books, tea cups, smellies, blogging programs and gift cards galore. All the things that I value, treasure, and love.

Avatar on DVD would have made the night unreal and you've got to leave something for Christmas right?

Viva la Appa and happy birthday to me. :D