So, from conception he was older, but from birth I was. We were born in California and then both our families moved to Utah when we were toddlers. Our families visited each other every now and then, and I have many memories of Star Wars based play. He got all the cool toys. We even had the same baby dolls.

Adam died when we were 29. Wow. When I was planning this post in my head I was planning to say that I was over the grief of it now, which I think I mostly am, but writing that still makes me cry.

It’s funny. I didn’t remember it was his birthday until my mom mentioned it, but I did remember him last night and I think it was after midnight. I was reading about Mimi Smartypant’s mini smartypants who was playing Star Wars based play with her boy pal.

Oh, Adam. Oh Adam’s parents. I was pretty much sick with grief when he died. I did have a nice dream in the weeks after that comforted me and the last moment of it is an image I see when I think of him. Here’s how I remember it now:

I’m in a big building that looks something like a conference building. One side of the building is glass. People are walking around. It’s like a prison because we can’t get out. Someone may have announced that we can’t get out. It’s not a horrible place to be. It’s just that we have to stay there.

I’m following a man. He’s walking in front of me, somewhat purposefully. He walks along the walkway in the building by the glass wall and then suddenly, he opens a door and just walks out! I’m astonished. I can’t follow him anymore, and I’m sad he’s leaving us, but I’m glad for him that he made it outside. I watch him go, through the glass. He keeps walking, never turning back, over the broad expanse of the earth, towards the sunset.

This day is quite an illustrious day in history. You might not have realized this.

Duke Ellington and Maya Angelou were born on April 4th.

“April 4” is one of the only dates mentioned specifically in a U2 song. Tis true.

AND I was born on April 4th. Yep, it’s me birthday!*

*If you want to want to give me a present, leave me a comment telling me about something small that someone does for you that makes you feel loved.
April 4th birthdays and years
1896: Tristan Tzara, French poet
1899: Duke Ellington, American band leader
1914: Marguerite Duras, French writer
1915: Muddy Waters, Chicago blues singer
1928: Maya Angelou, American poet

April is also:
Guitar month, Humor month, AND Kite flying month. April truly rocks.

“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day.
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
a cloud come over the sunlit arch,
And wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.”
- Robert Frost

“Spring is the Period
Express from God.
Among the other seasons
Himself abide,

But during March and April
None stir abroad
Without a cordial interview
With God.”
- Emily Dickinson, Spring is the Period, #844

More Spring poems here. (Takes awhile to download.)

Hmmm…. Maybe I should change this site to “Also a Gallavanting Monkey” “Gallavanting Monkey in Training”, “Soon to be a Gallavanting Monkey.”

Yesterday I ate a bag of M & M’s and then immediately afterwards, I had a cold. I didn’t have a cold, I was perfectly fine, I ate a normal size bag of M & M’s, I did have a cold.

Today I am practicing the art of forgiveness. My boss is giving me grief for leaving early yesterday. I want to be self-righteous in my head, but (here is the forgiveness) she is only doing her job. I should also practice truth. Here is the truth: I left because the equation of “nothing left to do today” plus, “have to walk down to my car and put more quarters in the meter” plus “my last day is soon, what are they going to do, fire me?” plus “It’s 2:00 and I haven’t had a chance to have lunch yet” all added up in my head to: walk down to my car, but don’t put coins in the meter, just drive home and eat lunch there, ’cause I have nothing left to do today and what are they going to do, fire me?

Where o where could the self-righteousness come in, you say? Well, I’m home sick today and still checking my work email and I called a Prof. to help her with her grading even though I will not get paid for my helping hours at home. So, I guess I feel like I am a good worker if not a good employee because I do get the job done and I don’t want to inconvenience anybody.

Bonus of the day: I’ve never actually talked to this particular prof. and she has an Australian accent! It really goes well with the blog I tore myself away from to call her! Also her name is Jenny which is cute and also she was really nice, which is cute, especially when I have a cold.

nipples through shirts
18th birthday present
weird diets
sexier women
colonic downfall

My favorite is “colonic downfall.” ;)

Hey, now that I figured out that fabulous (I jest) work around, I can finally post pictures to Illustration Friday again! Yay! I created this using art rage which is fun because it gives a very realistic action of real paint. Now I really want to paint again! This illo fits with the theme of speed because… Well, it sort of looks like wind blowing, or rushing water, and I did it fast, I mean, speedily. :)

Happy Birthday to you ,
You are a ram too,
I wish you love and happiness!!
And moons that are blue!

I created this drawing in dreezle, then took a screenshot, then downloaded Painter 25 and copied the screenshot into it, then saved it to my desktop, then downloaded Art Rage and imported the saved screenshot into it, painted over the screen part of the screen shot, and finally uploaded it to blogger. MY COMPUTER SUCKS.

Because memories are state dependent, I have been remembering some of my most depressing birthdays today. The one I remember the most today is my 18th birthday. My mom and I had moved into another family’s basement, who were friends of ours. Our carpet was plaid. There was sparkly sprayed-on stuff on the ceiling. We had dark wood paneling on all the walls, except for the wall that had the giant picture of a beach on it. No, this wasn’t in the 70’s, but it might have looked a little like a ghetto version of an Austin Powers movie.

I felt embarrassed by my lack of money often while I was growing up. But on that birthday I felt most embarrassed that my mom was throwing my birthday party. It was sort of like a little kid’s party, but it might have been fine if not for her serious miscalculation resting on the faulty premise that surprise = fun. I knew about the party. That wasn’t a surprise. I was helping to prepare for it. (Surprise might have something to do with fun if it gets you out of the preparation.) The big surprise was: I had invited all these people and none of them were coming! Surprise!

After about the 5th phone call that night saying someone couldn’t come, (I lie I can’t remember how many phone calls there were,) I talked to my friend K. She had been my friend since we were in 4th grade. Apparently we were in nursery school together. It was my 18th birthday. She said she couldn’t come to my 18th birthday party because her mom wanted her to stay home and get some things done. I was incredulous, I knew her nice mom, “Are you serious? But it’s my birthday! Ask her if you can just come for a little while!” I pleaded. Later she told me that she felt really bad doing that. Of course she did! That is not a fun birthday surprise! What was my mother thinking!

After everyone actually showed up, (much to my mixed emotions,) we played stupid games. At least that’s what the people-who-weren’t-really-my-friends-but-we-were-in-the -same-circle-of-friends-so-I-sort-of-considered-them-friends-and-invited-them-like -you-do-with-distant-relatives-when-you-invite-them-to-a -wedding-even-though-you- have-no-emotional-ties-whatsoever said. Then the cou de ta of humiliation: My big 18th birthday present from my family (ie: my mother.) If the party in it’s entirety wasn’t embarrassing enough, if it didn’t just emphasize that no matter how much I tried to pretend, I did not have a happy, well-to-do, or socially ept family, I then had to open my present in front of my friends. I wasn’t surprised, (and I don’t think at that point that they were either,) to find that my present was 18 pairs of socks, each one a different color. For years after that I wore those mustard yellow, purple, bright pink, or lime green socks when it was laundry day, or when I was walking around inside. I always put them on grudgingly. I’m very happy to say that none of those socks are with us now.

The whole party was worthy of being a scene in that one movie where the kid had a big fro, and lives in a small town. (Ever since I turned 25 I often can’t remember the precise words for things. That fits in with this post because that’s depressing too, and has to do with age.) I now find my mom’s presents charming, and she usually adds a check to the mix (that was weird) which helps. On this current birthday, my mom’s present was the only thing that was not depressing. Quirky seems cooler to me now that I am older. On my cat in the hat birthday card, she gave me a message in binary, hex and decimals. I told her I was tickled by her card. “Well, she said, “I just kept trying to think: what is special about 32?” It’s 2 to the power of 5, that’s what!

Adam, what first memories do I have that aren’t the pictures? The first picture, does it count? Is the picture of our moms face down at the beach. Only their beautiful young bodies were showing, while their large pregnant bellies were hidden in turtle holes in the sand. The story goes that my mom came to visit Sharon after having me, and Adam, who should have been born first, decided that he wanted to come out into the world too. Our moms met in a pre-natal class and he was born exactly two weeks after me. We both came into the world in beautiful mountain country, and then my mom moved, and a few cute baby pictures could have been the end of the story, but they aren’t.

Adam, carried along as babies are by fate (ie their parents), moved several states away from where he was born to the state I was being raised in. There we were, two toddlers separated at birth, together again. Again, the pictures. His wide smiling face and my thin concerned face. We sit at the beach together, two fat lumps of bundled babies. Our moms take turns sitting with us on Sharon’s front porch. We eat popsicles. We clumsily lean our faces together in a baby kiss in front of one of our birthday cakes. We take baths together. (This is what our mothers gleefully tell us when we are older.)

The first real memory? I remember being in the kitchen with him in their house when we are about 6. I remember assuming that we would one day marry when he became taller than me. He was so cute and all the girls had crushes on him, as his mother proudly told me and he smilingly and with a shrug admitted. I was amazed by his Star Wars collection of toys. He was an only child and was given heaps of toys. Although some of my memories are hazy, I vividly remember his star wars action figures and most of all his Star Wars ships. Those were so cool. The rule was, he could have as many toys as he wanted as long as he didn’t break them and took very good care of them. He told me this seriously and I was awed by the concept and by his parent’s seriousness about his toys.

My favorite pictures of Adam and I are of us dancing at my mom’s second wedding. We are two years old. His face has his usual baby expression, a happy-go-lucky dimple faced, wide cheeked good natured smile. He is wearing a green checkered jacket. I am wearing a long red velvet dress with a white lace pinafore over it. We are holding hands and the bottom of my dress is swirling out around me. My face is turned up and the expression on my face is one of pure joyful delight. Grown-up’s legs mix with darkness and lights in the blur behind us.

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised a glass of water and asked, “How heavy is this glass of water?” Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g. The lecturer replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long you try to hold it. If I hold it for a minute, that’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my right arm. If I hold it for a day, you’ll have to call an ambulance. In each case, it’s the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.”

He continued, “And that’s the way it is with stress management. If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later, as the burden becomes increasingly heavy, we won’t be able to carry on. ” “As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again. When we’re refreshed, we can carry on with the burden.” “So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down. Don’t carry it home. You can pick it up tomorrow. Whatever burdens you’re carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can.”

So, my friend, why not take a while to just simply RELAX. Put down anything that may be a burden to you right now. Don’t pick it up again until after you’ve rested a while. Life is short. Enjoy it!

Then the email listed ways you can “put down the burden:”

• Accept that some days you’re the pigeon, and some days you’re the statue.
• Always keep your words soft and sweet, just in case you have to eat them.
• Always read stuff that will make you look good if you die in the middle of it.
• If you can’t be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
• Nobody cares if you can’t dance well. Just get up and dance.
• When everything’s coming your way, you’re in the wrong lane.
• Birthdays are good for you. The more you have, the longer you live.
• A truly happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.
• Have an awesome day and know that someone has thought about you today….

…I did.

Resting in between working, sprint-like instead of marathon-like, is what helped me change a long held procrastination pattern I had. Today I rested by going to the dog park to get my cuteness fix. I like to have regularly scheduled rejuvination in my week, like church and lunch with my friends. When I wake up I write in my morning pages. What are some things you do to make clean transitions between work and make sure you aren’t holding the glass for too long?