Happy birthday to me, indeed.

As of the 25th, I am 26.

My online journalling habit is three years old, now. (Though I don't have archives online going back that far, they do exist.)

Last Saturday, I had an open house--invited some people over that I'm close to, had tea and sandwiches, and later had lasagna and ice cream cake. It was the first real gathering I've had in my new house, and it was one of the better one's i've thrown.

My parties get better as I get older, I think.

And I just want to say this right now:

I am proud of Tesserae.

It's always wonderful to see someone succeed at something really, really hard. Forget all the controversy over integration vs. non-integration; forget the philisophical differences; forget everything but the fact that this woman has wanted this to happen for years and she's finally accomplished it.

It's the end of something and the beginning of something new; it's not the destination but it is a milestone. And behind the storm of angry voices I hear fear. Fear of the expectations. Fear that somewhere someone is going to make all multiples everywhere integrate.

It's not true, by a long shot. Let her have her triumph, because it is one; it's also, from her account, very hard and very lonely and she owns that, too. She's gone where a lot of us will never go, and I am so very proud of her because of it.

25 years done

another
365 nights round the sun
the center of my firmament

and as usual fall is rolling on
on the day i was born, someone commented
'my, it smells like autumn'
as I screamed my first

the tree outside my window is turning
the red of flames and I lie
on my bed, in my bowl of sunlight
and I'm happy, so happy
so content
wrapped in moonlight
and tied with a bow

my gift to myself this year--

life.

mine.

I am greedy for it and all the world holds.

--9/25/00

I've been working out lately--lifting and aerobic workout on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and swimming Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Swimming is harder than I remember it being. It's work to pull myself through the water. But it's so quiet. Nothing but me and the water and my thoughts running through my head.

I hear the ghosts of swimming lessons past calling out, "One! Two! Three! Breathe!" as i do the crawl up and down the pool. I spend a lot of time remembering to lie hirozontally on the water while doing the breastroke so i don't use so much energy pulling myself up to breathe.

And then there is the spa to sit in and a shower to take and i'm off to take a shower and life is good.

Rhythms and routines. All the things that make me happy.

the new zero
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