35 and 1/365th

Most anticlimactic bday ever! But that's okay. It's something I've never tried before: Being chill about my birthday.

J. had to do a 24-hour acid study. Fortunately or unfortunately, that means he's not on acid for 24 hours, but he had to wear a wire that went down his throat and into his stomach and taped to his and neck face, along with a box (huh huh, I said box) that looks like an old school discman that recorded the amount of stomach acid he produces in a 24-hour period.

About a week ago he'd called me and said the first day they could get him in was April 2. My first thought was of course, "Fuck." My second--split,split,split-second--thought was, well, better he do this sooner rather than later.

And it's all part of my new selflessness, well selfless attempt at it.

So I said, of course, it doesn't matter, you can still eat and drink, right?

He said yes.

Then he got it put in and then stayed the rest of the day at home.

I felt ok in the morning and went for an 8-mile tempo run. But then that afternoon my stomach started to bug me. I don't know what's up; I think it's a combination of a bug and too much Advil in too short a time. I've been popping J's antacids like mad today in hopes I can run tomorrow.

So my birthday was both of us on our respective couches, laid up in various ways (but not the good one). J. did make sushi rolls and I made some gluten-free cake and we had sake and opened cards and it was wow, super-low key, but hey, you know what? It's not all that bad.

I had expected to have more energy this morning but I slept *horribly* and my stomach was seizing in this weird combination of bloat and awfulness, so I'm kind of a mess today. I'd have stayed home even if I weren't already taking the day off. I'm hoping tomorrow will be better.

But: J. answered the question for me that I didn't even think to ask him: What will be my first of 12 things?

He got me drum lessons.

I've always wanted to learn to play the drums. I'm not sure why.

When I was a kid, I took piano lessons. Again: I'm not sure why. I don't think I actually wanted to learn it, I really can't imagine I would have. It seems like the kind of thing that my parents thought I should know, so I was going to take lessons. Or maybe I just said the word piano aloud a couple times, because I liked it. I was often saying words out loud that I liked. I was a weird kid. Anyway, I ended up taking piano lessons, was totally lousy, didn't enjoy it--my teacher was a woman that I had a feeling didn't like kids (at the time, I couldn't understand that, and now it's all I understand), and I just was totally "meh" on the whole experience. Part of it, I think, was the fact that I didn't want to play the music at the speed it was indicated on the music sheet. But I did like the written "language" of music, that it had its own notations in a language that was so foreign, beyond what I knew as letters...like, say, Hebrew.

It did, however, teach me my right from left. I had a problem with that. To this day, I think of my left hand as making a lower timbre noise than my right hand, which is somehow...lighter.

Anyway!

I'm so excited about drum lessons. J. knows someone at work who teaches, and all I need to get is drumsticks. All I know from drums is playing Rock Band on K & T's Wii and really fucking it up. It's got to be easier than that, right?

Maybe I don't have rhythm. (I have a bitch of a time spelling it, for one.) But I can at least try. Yes, this is actually something I want to try and have for a while, so I don't know if it entirely fits in that "12 things I cringe at, at first" mold...but this is all about breaking the mold. It's an awesome gift and I'm happy for J., not just because of this but because of who he is.

Anyway. I have so totally rambled enough. Posting.