The party’s over

Yesterday was my birthday. Since I have limited space and dishes, I spread out the invitations over the course of the day, saving the obligatory guests for the last round. It was also a nice way to really have time for my guests. In a big crowd, I would not have the opportunity to talk with everyone.

First my fun friends came. They are good for lots of laughter. It’s odd — they’re not super deep friends, though we can talk about almost anything. I wouldn’t hang out with them all the time, but they bring sunshine into my life.

The next guests were the deep, philosophical group. We talk about life and such things. They overlapped a bit with the first group, but harmonized quite well. Perhaps the philosophers were lightened up a bit.

Then the obligatory guests came — the in-laws. I was a bit apprehensive, but it turned out quite well. Since I knew ahead of time that they might ask rather penetrating questions about my life, the separation, and the children, I was well prepared. Plus one friend stayed to give me moral support.

After they left, I rushed off to a concert. My former voice teacher was singing with her guitar-playing husband. It was a wonderful evening. She is an incredible singer. Her voice seems to exude from her entire body — she is one with the music.

They do a mix of jazz, funk, soul and pop. During the last song, her husband had a strange inspiration and decided to play “Happy Birthday”. She was rather puzzled, but dedicated it to the entire audience, since everybody has a birthday this year. Afterwards I told her that it was my birthday, and the song really hit home. It was wonderful.

The plan was to go out after the concert. I share my birthday with a friend (she belongs to the “fun friend” category), and she made the plans. After the concert, I felt full from the events of the day. In addition, the concert was in the town where my husband lives, and where I lived until this past May. I was going to spend the night at a friend’s house, but opted to go home. I wanted to spend the last hour of my special day in my new apartment. It’s too soon to sleep in that town — even if I’m at someone else’s house.

I drove home, poured myself a glass of left-over sparkling wine, and sat out on the balcony with my cat. We stargazed for a while, and then I went to bed — tired and happy. It was an incredible life year, and I’m excited about this new one.

Now I’m 47. I think I already mentioned it. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I thought I already was 47. I spend most of the year thinking I would turn 48. So, I actually gained a year, in a sense. I’m a whole year younger than I thought!

Price Tag Art

This appeared a few weeks ago. First I noticed a fire hydrant in the pedestrian zone, which I thought was rather amusing. Then I turned the corner and saw this. Some days the stickers shine so brightly, it’s as if they are little lights on the posts.

Every time I walk by here, it makes me smile.

Out on the town and acting as if

I’ve been to the movies three times in the past 3 weeks. That is a record! I haven’t done that since… I lived alone in New York City and was actively bulimic. Back then I went to the movies for various reasons: to get out of the apartment, to keep out of trouble, to see a good movie, to lose myself in a film and to enjoy myself. I have always loved going to the movies.

Over the past 25 years, it became a rare occurrence. To think I used to love going to the Carnegie Hall Cinema and Film Forum to watch European films, and here I am in the heart of Europe and stayed home most of the time! There were some years that I didn’t even go once. What happened? Oh, nothing spectacular. It’s just that my husband doesn’t like to go to the movies. He didn’t like it when he was my boyfriend either. So I stopped going, and learned to complain and feel sorry for myself instead.

Cut! We now have 2009. A local theater is doing a special program where they show 5 films about various psychosocial themes over the next several weeks. As a psychologist who decided she didn’t really want to be a psychologist because she wanted to be a rock star, who now has a job which has more to do with psychology than rock stardom, I have developed a new interest in such matters. Maybe I was just burned out from being a student for so long that I decided I’d had enough! Those of you who are familiar with some of my posts know what is coming: WHY I developed a new interest in the subject is not what matters. I just did.

And now that I’ve been going out in the evenings not just when I have night duty, I’m starting to like it! So last night I had the urge to go out. I’d spent Friday night at home puttering, singing and such things, but last night I was itching to get out. I knew my husband wouldn’t be interested, and most of my friends had been on their annual ski outing, so they were busy with aprés ski. One friend had to babysit — for her grandchildren!

Then I remembered that old saying about acting as if. When you want to recover: Act as if you are. Play the part already right now! Don’t wait. So last night I thought to myself: “What am I waiting for? I want to go out. All these years I’ve been complaining that he doesn’t like to go out and that I’ve missed out on so much. I’m not quite ready to take my own apartment yet, but hell, I can certainly act as if we are already separated and go out! See what it’s like to go to a concert all by yourself.”

I found something in the newspaper that seemed rather interesting: James Blood Ulmer. I guessed it would be sold out and it was too late to make a reservation, but then I saw that they were also showing an interesting film — in the same cultural building complex. So, I decided to give it a try. If the concert was sold out, I could just have a drink and go home, or go to the movies on the upper floor.

There was a good crowd, but I was able to get a ticket. Then I went into the bar/café area, since there was still time before the doors opened. I ordered a drink, sat at a table, and worked on a letter. I was feeling a tad vulnerable and not in the mood to people watch, so I absorbed myself in writing and listened to the hum of the crowd and the background music.

Well, the concert was absolutely wonderful. I had a great time and thoroughly enjoyed it. There had been one empty seat next to me, and a man sat down. Towards the end of the concert he made a couple of comments related to the concert. Friendly enough. Afterwards I went out into the hall, and then decided to quench my thirst, listen to a bit of music in the bar, and then go home. It’s just not fun to rush right home after a concert.

I happened to see the same guy standing by the door, so I went over and started a little conversation. We had a nice chat, I finished my juice, said goodbye and went home. It was a nice evening, and I was quite pleased with how it went. I must admit, it is a bit strange to go out alone, but there are other people who are alone as well — and many are open to a little conversation. I just have to act as if I know how to go to concerts alone and talk with people, then it works.