Last night, I was talking to the Hulk about my upcoming birthday, and I started to cry a little.
It’s not because I hate the idea of getting older, or because he had emitted a particularly foul odor, or because there was an eyelash in my eye. It was because I realized I haven’t had a party for my birthday in years, and maybe getting older means that I’m too old for parties and revelry for myself. It was because I get to spend my birthday this year traveling to a strange city, spending the evening with friendly strangers, rather than getting an awesome birthday dinner and cake made to order. And it was because QIR and Leah have been posting about Bay Area spring, which is always the most beautiful right around my birthday, since the hills are so green still, the flowers are all blooming, and everything around sings life, life, life.
I moved to Colorado four years ago and a bit, in January of 2003. I wanted something different; I wanted to live closer to the Hulk; I wanted to try living in a new place in an unknown city. And I love my neighborhood. I love our apartment (with some notable exceptions, but hey, nothing’s perfect). I love our kitties and that we get to do whatever we want with the yard and that everything’s within walking distance. But this year, this winter, has been especially snowy and unusually cold, and while it was OK in December and I put up with it in January, it’s now into March and we’ve only had a couple of days above 40 degrees. Where is the sun? Where is the green? Where are the flowers on the trees and the birds courting and the lawns springing back to life?
On Sunday, we took a walk though the neighborhood to get out into the sun and to try to find signs of spring. There were a few – I saw three crocuses. But it has been so brown, grey, white, black, very little color, other than blue sky, in these last few months. One thing I have learned since I moved to Colorado: spring here, when it finally shows up, is such an amazing contrast from the dreary winter that I revel in it for the 3 or 4 weeks until it becomes hot. This year, I wanted spring to come early, though I know that’s tempting fate – it’s better for the trees not to have any leaves during those March blizzards with their heavy wet snows. But the irrational little girl in me says that birthday time means green and flowers and life, not three crocuses in a mile of yards and park.
This is the first year since I moved to Colorado that I won’t see Bay Area spring. And frankly, that makes me really sad. Our next trip probably won’t be until mid-May when someone we know graduates from law school. And then maybe not again until September for the second wedding in three weeks (cousin, marrying another great big nerd. I approve of her choice).
After the dizzying high of a few weeks ago, things have settled back into normal routine as we sit in a holding pattern, waiting for my sister to make up her mind about scheduling so we can start doing some real planning. We talk about possibilities, learning each other’s taste in parties and what a wedding should be, but it’s all moot until we really know where and when. The Hulk wants some sort of a traditional wedding cake, and I couldn’t care less, so I told him it’s completely up to him to figure that part out. And I promised that if we have said traditional cake, it can have action figures of Captain Kirk and the green slave girl on it (that is, if he can find them for a reasonable price), and I totally meant it. I’d rather have pie and tiramisu, myself.
I’m in another holding pattern waiting to buy my car until my friend gets the car she wants and can sell mine to me. Not having a car is definitely good for the finances but bad for the social life or for hiking and camping. I’m really looking forward to doing some of those things this spring and summer. We’ve got to get another 14er or two in the bag. So I’m excited about the car, as I’m excited about the shindig, but I’m still waiting on other people before I can really do much about those things. And I’m getting a little tired of waiting, waiting for spring which is taking its own sweet time, waiting to plan a wedding to mark a lifelong commitment to my lover and best friend, waiting waiting waiting.
What I need are a few days of sunshine, a few days of warm air blowing the cold air away, and some green poking up from the dead ground. I need to start planning projects for the yard, deciding what to grow and where to grow it. I need to start retooling my resume and get myself out of the rut that I’ve been in for the last several months. What I need is a challenge, something exciting, the possibilities for new life and change that come with spring. And I need to quit whining.