Birthday wishes and sore ankles
Ok kids, first things first. Today is Smitty's birthday! I was told by my birthday reminder that he will be 29, but I thought he was older than that. Am I older than the Ada crew? Crazy... Anyway, I spoke to my good friend on Sunday, as he was packing and getting ready for a business trip to New Orleans. I suspect that he won't get to read this until well after today, so if by chance Reneay if you read this, could you pass on a very Happy Birthday to my dear friend? Much appreciated.
While I'm thinking of it, I don't know what to get him. Thinking back, I got him one birthday gift one time, and that was Spaceballs the DVD back when he and I were in Norman on, uh, business for the tribe. Ok, we were screwing around in the city on company time. So what? But that gift was the only one I've given him. I'm trying to think back on gifts I've neglected to get everybody. Paul, David, Michael, Pat... I'm sure the list is quite long. Even my sisters and I don't exchange gifts. It's just something I've gotten out of the habit of doing, and as such I don't expect much. I do like to be called or remembered on July 6th, but other than that, I don't need a cake and I don't need a party. I suspect my friend's are the same way by this point in their lives.
On to less important things...
I was napping Tuesday afternoon when I was awoke with a very painful feeling in my ankles. It was a double cramp in both of my foot-ended joints and boy did it smart. Hoping around like an idiot for 20 minutes, it was all I could do to not chop the silly things off just to stop the torture. Twenty minutes people!! And I'm talking pain!! Ok, I'm being a baby about this. I'm sure any given woman who goes through labor will debate me on the trival amount I suffered in contrast to childbirth. I'm a complete wimp when it comes to pain. I'll freely admit it. If you could go back and talk to my mom or grandmother, they would ragale you with tales of my moans of displeasure of having the slightest sniffle when I was a child.
Anyway, as it turns out, I couldn't walk for a little while. I had come back home to Owasso, and upon waking from my slumber, getting moble was difficult. Even know I'm hobbling along like a gimpy... eh, gimp. Not a pretty site. Should the need arise that I need to give chase to someone, it's a given that they are going to get away from me. I need one of those motorized carts that old folks use. What are they called? Rascals? Zimmers? Whatever. I just want to tool around in comfort!
7 Comments:
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Just how old are you, Jay? I WILL be 30 on Christmas Eve. I may be wrong but I think that Michael is also already 30. I was under the impression that you weren't supposed to be decrepit until much older than 30...Are you telling us that you are falling apart early?
On another note, next time you're in town, stop by...I've had a thank you note from Sid sitting by the front door for a month now.
Erin
I'm not thirty yet, but I'm really close. I'll be thirty on April 28th.
BAH! I was 30 a year and a half ago!
*groan*
Are you both going to count the 'half' like when we were kids? I'm 29 1/2! Oh yeah, well I'm 31 1/2!!
Yes Erin, I'm a sad 30. I'm still hobbling today, like an old man. This morning was good but by the time I woke up from sleeping I was back at what felt like square one. Getting to the bathroom proved quite a chore. Thinking back, I haven't gotten you anything for your birthday's either. Maybe I'll start making it a point to get gifts for everyone. At least a card, eh? Everybody likes to be remembered by their friends. It's certainly the least I should do.
So, Jay, every year, I feel bad because family keeps getting me gifts at Christmas, and I never seem able to do the same. Either I'm broke because I had to fly back to OK, or I just can't think of what to give them. Last year, I thought of a great idea for my Dad, who, as you know, is IMPOSSIBLE to please. But I thought... Dad likes history. Dad likes TV. Dad doesn't have cable. So I got him a box set of VHS of Civil War battles from the History Channel. When I went to visit in August, it still had the cellophane on it. So, I give up. Fuck gift-giving. (Can I use that word on here?) At least when it's "mandatory." When I see something that a friend would like and I can afford I buy it for them. Why should I put any time and effort into finding something that someone may or may not appreciate just because it's a specific day of the year.
If you want to stop getting presents for people because it's their birthday or Christmas, why not? I'm with you on this one. I'm sure Smitty appreciates your friendship, and that is gift enough. Sure, he'd probably like a new DVD or something, but he'll like it even more if you just hand it to him some random day because you knew he'd want it and you could get it for him. That's much better than knowing someone got you something because it was socially expected. I've had my fill of social expectations lately, so I say, give when you want. How many times have you just bought me something cool because you knew I'd like it? I'll take that over the obligatory Christmas gift any day.
As for your joints... I feel your pain (somewhat literally). Dad, in addition to driving me crazy at holidays, gave me the worst gift ever... premature arthritis. I swear, sometimes my knees are so bad I want to cry. Then, with my bum ankle, I sometimes walk around with a cane now. It sucks. (But, having a cane is a GREAT prop!) Maybe you should get a cane instead of one of those old-people carts. Although, those things do look fun. Why don't you have a Segway already, anyway? Slacker.
Oh, and since when was Patrick older than me??? Or is this another Patrick? If this is the Patrick I know, don't worry, old man, I still remember when you were young and... nubile.
--Adam
Yeah, I'm sure you do...those nubile and flexible days are definitely over for me.
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