Dead Line

by

I have 18 more days.

18 days left of being 39.

18 days left to finish up the book and get it done.

I asked Corinne for a suggestion this evening when we met at the Lizard Lounge and she set, “deadline, give yourself a deadline.”

My birthday, it just popped out of my mouth.

It makes complete sense to me.  I will also be finishing up with French class, although, I am certainly down for taking more, and I will be 40.

40.

Sounds like a serious age.

Sounds like a grown up age.

I do not think that I shall ever really grow up.  I don’t plan on it today.  I saw a bunny bank in a store tonight on my way through the Marais and had I had some room in my bag I might have tucked it in right then and there.

I want.

I left my other bunny bank in the basement at Graceland.

This one would make just the best companion piece.

Bunny Bank

Bunny Bank

I would stick all my spare centime in it.

So cute.

You know I also want a jack-a-lope tattoo for my birthday.

You may see a theme here.

I know it has something to do with my dad.

He gave me a velveteen bunny bank to me when I was four. I loved that damn thing and I have one that is similar to it–also in storage, in San Francisco, in a basement off of San Jose Avenue.

One day, and it does not seem that far off, I will have my own place to put all my bunny rabbits.

The other thing about turning 40 is that I got a chance to look back at the things that I have done in my thirties.

Big things, little things, stupid things, amazing things.

Dreams, all the dreams I had and what happened with them.

Today in French class we had an exercise in which we described what was our dream.

This, this is my dream, I told the class–to be in Paris to celebrate my 40th birthday, to write every day, to take photographs every day, to walk the museums, and to ride my bike along the streets.

I am living my dream.

How amazing is that?

Really, it is sort of ridiculous when I let myself acknowledge what is truly happening.

I shared this with Corinne, it brought tears to my eyes, my life is astounding.  We talked about many things and the gratitude kept overflowing, ie, I had tears standing in my eyes and drifting slowly down my cheeks.

I told her I was also willing to be a nanny, an au pair, or whatever else I needed to be.

She smiled.

She was glad to hear of my willingness.

When I asked here what suggestions she had about my money situation–after explaining that I got to pay rent, I have money for food, and my phone bill, and I have had a few lovely, amazing, wonderful people gift me some patronage (thank you beautiful friends, you know who you are and I could not do this without you, not just the Euros although God know it helps so much, but also just the positive response–I think sometimes that is what I need the most, people behind me, in my corner believing in me.  Thank you.), I will make it through December.

But what about January?

She laughed, “honey, it’s still November, relax, you just said you paid rent for December.”

Oh yeah.

And breathe.

“Set a deadline, when must you have money coming in?”  She asked, regarding me with bright eyes.

I thought briefly, and it just popped out of my mouth, my birthday, I can make it until my birthday without having to freak out about finding work (I also, mind you, have been looking for work, I just have not applied to do the two things that I am a bit nervous about–bar work and nanny work–I am uncomfortable with both).

At which point, I will happily, gladly, willingly go burp some babies.

I would rather burp my own, but I also want to stay here.  And if being a nanny or a baby sitter or picking up a gaggle of kids after school is how I get to stay, than I am willing.

But until I have to.

I am not going to.

I am holding out hope that something else will happen.  I have faith.  I have a book to finish as well as some ideas about other projects that I want to flesh out.

I have another idea for a short story and as it won’t leave my brain I need to write it down soon–by Sunday, I think that will be good, get it out of the brain pan–and the story dovetails nicely with the one I wrote recently called “The Button Boy” and then I realized I had a thematic and should I desire to do so I could actually write a small book of these themed shorts.

I desire.

18 more days.

How apropos, my birthday is on the 18th of December, this feels exactly as it should be.

My dream, living in Paris, being a writer in Paris, walking in Paris, being here for my 40th birthday, the gift I have been given, it astounds me.

Talking with my new friend W. on the Metro today after class I told her about other dreams I have had and she looked at me with wide eyes when I added that I had actually achieved a lot of those dreams.

In fact, while we were in class I wrote them down in my journal I carry with me and was rather amazed to see how many dreams I have gotten to live out already–

-do the AidsLifeCycle ride (did that 2010)

-lose 100 lbs (mission completed in 2011) and keep it off (yup, size 10 now for two years)

-Swim in the bioluminescent sea (did that in Puerto Rico in 2002)

-Live in San Francisco (August 30th 2004-November 1st 2012=10 years of good times)

-Go to Burning Man (six times now and a seventh is in the works, I feel it)

-Turn 40 in Paris (just a scant few days away now)

This was good for me to see.  Good for me to know that when I set out to do things, I actually do them.

Which made the rest of the wish list believable to me.  I actually have faith that the following things will happen for me if I keep showing up and doing the footwork and taking suggestions:

-Win an Oscar for Best Original Screen Play (based on my memoir)

-Ride the Orient Express

-See the Northern Lights in Alaska

-Own an apartment in Paris

-Own a home in San Francisco

-Be married to my Beloved

-Have children (two would be nice)

-Learn how to hang glide

-Ride my bicycle from Paris to the South of France

-Play cello beautifully

-Finish writing and publish my memoir

-Have a financially successful well paid creative career I love

Wild pie eyed dreams.

But as I look out from where I came and see what I have already gotten to do (and truly when it all comes down to it I am living a life I do not deserve to have and am graced to still be alive to experience at all) I do see that those things are possible.

They can come true.

They are already in the works, just because I cannot see how they flesh out, does not mean that they are not already happening.

They are.

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2 Responses to “Dead Line”

  1. Matt Wuischpard Says:

    40s the new 20, your a babe.

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