Aaaand I am 24! Happy birthday to me!
For some reason this year I am suddenly very excited about my birthday, but at the same time I don't really have any plans. This is upsetting to me--more so than is probably normal and more so than I'd like to admit to myself. I just am bad at planning things, at knowing what I want, etc. It doesn't help that (no guilt trips here, I promise) most of the people I'd most like to spend my birthday with are unavailable to me. It happens, I guess. But Kelly and Jr and I took the dogs to the park today, and that was fun. I'm hoping not to wake up covered in poison ivy--but at least if I did, I feel like Sara and I would be sort of even. Jellowjackets and poison ivy are comparable, right?
I caught a frog today--first of the season.
I heard a cicada yesterday--same deal.
Tonight we have the exhaust fan on, for the first time this year. I get excited about these kinds of things. Happy. Happy about anything that means that summer is coming again. (Everything, that is, except ticks and poison ivy.)
I was writing the other day, and posted it somewhere else, about how I want to make paint, and paint my face and my body. But for what? To do what? To go where? I don't know, and I don't know why. I just do. I just want colors all over me. I want colors all over everything, and I want to sculpt some stuff. This is a thought that has just come into my mind, so please excuse the unformed (no pun intended) nature of the idea. Just stuff. Clay, paper mache, wire, I don't know. I want to take things in my hands that don't look like much of anything, and then I want to bend and roll and squeeze and mold them until, possibly, they do look like things. I need to do something with my hands.