It's the eve of my 27th birthday. I sit alone here in my room listening to some podcasts and hoping that Chris Meloni will be shirtless in tongihts episode of OZ. Never seen OZ? It's a great show on HBO that is only in reruns on HBO Zone. and Chris is.. hot.. not as hot as Mike Rowe but still hot.
I was thinking today of Birthdays past. Parties I had at Pizza Hut when I was 8, when I turned 16 and had a horrible sleepover at my house. when I was married and had non exsistant birthdays.. and now.
Always I have had wonderfuls friends to share it with be in person and going bowling, or sharing laughs over the phone hundreds of miles away.
Last year I met new friends at my LYS. Friends that make me laugh, lift me up when times are hard, that invite me over for ymmy guac, teach me new things and are supportive and so valuable to me.
To close up I would like to leave you with a poem by the poet, Willam Stafford.
How far friends are! They forget you, most days. They have to, I know; but still
its lonely just being far and a friend. I put my hand out- this chair- this table-
so near: that's how to live.
Call up a friend? all right, but the phone itself is waht loves you, warm on your ear, on your hand. Or, lift a pen to write- it's not that far person but this familier pen that comforts.
Near things, Friend, here's my hand.
Good night my friends, see you soon!!!