It's Paul's birthday today!

I never did post about my birthday.

It was perfect. Lovely and low key. Slept in late, stayed in bed with the boy until 2pm, ate insanely decadent and piping hot Cheese Board pizza for lunch, went and saw Up!, and then met Frances, Jonathan, and Emily for a late dinner at Zachary's.

I had been trying to plan something bigger and more exciting, but in retrospect, it was about as perfect as it could have been.

Last year, I set some personal goals at my birthday dinner.

1. Get some poetry published - legit, paid-for-it, in-a-magazine published.
2. Get properly settled into my new city Apartment, job, dog. Done.
3. Be more fiscally responsible (open up an ING Direct account for savings, etc.) Savings account/nest egg growing as we speak.
4. Possibly meet someone There's a boy / his name is Paul / he's cute and sweet / and very tall.

And I'm making progress re: the publishing - submitting things every few weeks.

So... new goals for this year!

1.) Study for the GREs and do well
2.) Get into graduate school
3.) Continue writing and the quest for publication
4.) Continue to save teh monies
6.) Exercise more

Woo-hoo!

I'm 23 today. ^_^

To my sweet, wonderful marnanel: Happy Birthday, love. :)

Since my birthday was on Thursday (middle of the week, other people busy, and I had work), I had my birthday celebration last night with Frances and Jonathan and Rebekah.

We went to Pesce, a seafood tapas-style restaurant. It was absolutely brilliant - whoever thought to pair, for example, crab and avocado deserves a Nobel Prize. (Did I mention that since coming to California, where 95% of the US's crop is grown, I have become OBSESSED with avocados? They are so delicious. I've been putting them on everything and eating them straight.) We drank cocktails (I had a raspberry mojito, which was lovely) and ate seafood and talked about photography.

We got back to Frances and Jonathan's condo to wait for Rebekah. We played Rock Band (where I proved to be crap at drums but excellent at vocals), which was great. Once she arrived, we went a few blocks to Citizen Cake.

Oh man. Talk about amazing. Citizen Cake was a beautiful restaurant bakery, and the desserts were fantastic. Frances got a rose flavored creme brulee, which I tried, and I had a fresh berry/clotted cream/rosemary/shortbread extravaganza that was perfectly orgasmic. Afterwards, a waitress came over with a lovely gourmet cupcake with "Happy Birthday Carmen" written in chocolate around the lip of the plate and a sparkler burning and sparking in the middle.

We talked, and my three companions asked me what I wanted to do with my 22nd year. I decided that I wanted to:

1. Get some poetry published - legit, paid-for-it, in-a-magazine published.
2. Get properly settled into my new city
3. Be more fiscally responsible (open up an ING Direct account for savings, etc.)
4. Possibly meet someone

We walked back to their condo, where they gave me a present (The Cheap Bastard's Guide to San Francisco) and Frances filled a paper bag full of delicious food so that I could eat between now and my first paycheck. They then drove us back to the apartment. I gave them both huge, tremendous, gigantic hugs. It was a wonderful birthday. I'm so lucky to have such amazing friends in San Francisco.

Today, I'm 22.

1. I am, at this very moment, writing a cover letter for a job that I would really, really love to have. *crosses fingers*

2. I don't think I'm going to do Albany. It's too expensive. I think I'm going to go skydiving for my birthday instead.

3. I got so lost today. I tried to go about five miles - from Oakland to Emeryville - to pick Rebekah up, and I ended up ALMOST DRIVING OVER THE BAY BRIDGE. As it was, I broke about fifteen laws to get off Route 80 before I ended up in the city, drove aimlessly through downtown Oakland as I attempted to figure out where I was, ended up near Lake Merritt, had to stop at a bank to ask for directions, and, an hour after she called me, I finally picked her up. In an effort to keep calm during this little adventure, I kept shoving gum into my mouth from that little car gum container (you know, the kind that sits in your cup holder) that I bought last week. I ended up polishing off something like eight or nine of those delicious bubblegum/mint concoctions. Somehow, I think that is not the point of having that container, so that you can consume pieces of gum at an alarming rate.

My jaw hurts.

The earliest memory I have of my mother is from when I was five or six. We were living on 30th Street, in what I now call The Old House. I slept in a bedroom with a sloping ceiling, on the top level of a bunk bed. My brother slept below. On the night of my birthday - a day shy of the forth - she came into my room late at night, after we were both asleep, and shook me awake.

I was confused and groggy as she picked me up out of my bed and took me to the small window of the room. "Look," she said, pointing through the fingerprint-smudged glass. I couldn't see, so she stood me on a toy chest and then opened up the sticky, ancient window. The warm air hit my face.

In the distance, fireworks were erupting. They are the first fireworks I remember.

I went to DC for my birthday. It was a tremendously awesome experience. I met with my housemates and KC at Schuylkill House, and then drove to The Diner in Adams Morgan. After a slightly harrowing parking experience, we met up with the dozen or so people who were already there and had a wonderful time. I drank Baily's Mint Chocolate milkshakes and pomegranate mimosas and wine and I don't even know what else. I was drunk but in a very pleasant way - conversations that I had with the people sitting around me became infinitely funnier. (KC: "You know, people were still talking about your breasts after the Chicago tournament!" Me: "WHAT? NO WAY." *both of us dissolve into hysterical laughter*)

As Jon Lipe reminded the next day, I am one of the luckiest people in the world. Not only did tons of people come to wish me a happy birthday, but the sheer number of emails, IMs, text messages, gchats, and phone calls (including an international one) that I got on top of that reminded me how awesome my friends are and how lucky I am to have them. Thank you so much, everyone. (And a special thanks to Katie, who helped me organize the whole thing last minute because I'm such a ditz.)

After sleeping off all of the pleasant tipsiness, we (Jon Lipe, Kelli, Amanda, me, and Jon Lipe's dad and stepmom) all went to the zoo on the morning of the forth. This rocked for several reasons:

1. ANIMALS YAY!
2. This woman came up behind Amanda and I while we were looking at the Golden Lion Tamarins and started taking pictures with this FREAKING HUGE AND SEXY TELEPHOTO LENS. I almost hyperventilated and died. I'd love to do wildlife photography with a telephoto lens. Also, at some point, one of the baby tamarins fell off the tree to the shock and horror of the crowd but then the mommy tamarin went and got it and it was okay.
3. ANIMALS YAY!
4. Normally, the National Zoo proves to be somewhat of an athletic challenge. If it's even remotely hot (which of course it was at that time) it's a tremendous hike, and then on the way back to the entrance it's entirely uphill. Normally, I'm totally winded and exhausted from the uphill climb, because I'm out of shape and all that good stuff. But not only was I not tired, but Amanda and I walked up so fast that we had to sit and wait for the others to catch up. And I wasn't exhausted! On top of that, I think I've lost about 35 pounds since a few months ago. Looking in the mirror has actually become slightly exciting.

After the zoo, Amanda and I went into the city and met up with Mary and ate food and saw museums and waiting for tornado warnings and storms to pass over before we met with the rest of our group on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial for the fireworks. I had actually never seen the Jefferson Memorial, so Jon Lipe and I walked around and talked about how when he's president I can be his speech writer. He showed me his favorite quote in the memorial. Then we went and waited for the fireworks to start.

I've always loved fireworks. From the first night when my mother dragged me from my bed and opened the window into the hot night, to now, at the age of 21, there's something... cleansing about them. I know that doesn't make any sense, considering that they're incredibly loud and normally for me "cleansing" involves water, but more than New Year's, the Fourth is a sort of start of news things for me.

I panicked for weeks about turning 21, about becoming some kind of adult. I'm still nervous - the last semester of college is slowly advancing toward me, and I keep pulling up my schedule and rearranging things and emailing professors and advisors and just generally trying to keep my head screwed on straight. But as I sat there, on the white steps, surrounded by people that I love and adore, I felt remarkably calm. I suppose I can lament about life's complications and complexities until I run out of air but the fact remains that they are there. I'll find a job. I'll find someone to live with after I leave Schuylkill House. I'll figure things out.

Behind us, a man proposed to his girlfriend as the fireworks entered their finale. When I finally turned around, they were holding each other and flashing green and red and gold with the final, brilliant explosions. It grew quiet. Applause.

We walked back to the Metro, back home. In the middle of all those people, I closed my eyes, and it felt like the whole city was breathing.

Holy crap, I'm 21.

1. I came down to DC this weekend. If I didn't see you, no worries! I almost didn't see anyone. In fact, I saw exactly two people that I know: Lara, with whom I was shooting a wedding (hence the reason for my visit) and KC. I would have loved to have seen everyone, but I figured that my schedule was too tight (I drove in Friday night, shot the wedding on Saturday, and then left DC at 7:00 Sunday morning so I could make it to work by 11:30) and I would see people tomorrow, when I come down for my birthday.

2. Yeah, that's right. I turn 21 tomorrow.

I am slightly freaked out by this birthday. Not so much the "legally able to buy alcohol" aspect (about this I am completely and totally excited), but the "Oh my God, I'm 21 and I haven't yet accomplished much of anything in my life" way. Which I suppose - no, actually, I know - is ridiculous, but I am nothing if not ridiculous.

Despite the things that I have done - travel to Africa three times, survive several attacks by wild and domesticated animals (rhino, Clydesdale horses, and more humorously, ostrich), successfully attend college, drive to Chicago and back on my own, figure model, get so lost that I've entered other states but always managed to get home, won writing competitions, shot weddings, cut all my hair off, etc., etc. - I still feel bogged down by the weight of the things that I haven't done. Things like... being in a relationship, no matter how brief. Having a book published. Winning a Scrabble game against someone better than I am. Being kissed by someone who actually wanted to date me. Going to grad school OR getting a good job OR moving to California OR joining the Peace Corps OR doing Teach for America OR some combination thereof (which technically couldn't have happened yet, but these things are the things that are pressing upon me). I still fail at money matters. I still have occasional difficulties with maps. Do I have Life Skills? Some. Not enough.

Driving back from DC yesterday, I was listening to Under the Pink and getting all teary. I have discovered, since getting Beatrice, that long-ish car rides by myself have an 86% chance of producing tears - not always crying, per se, but some kind of overwhelming emotion that leaves me incredibly sad and occasionally turns on the waterworks. As I wound through Maryland, watching the dark patches on the mountains from the clouds in the sky and trying to quell the horrible ache in my heart, all I could think about were the things that I've been worrying about regarding my life (the future, my inability to function in the real world, the contrast between the things that I desperately want to do and the things that I will be able to do) and just general emotional messiness (in my group of friends, it's been a week of death, break-ups, illness, and general Bad News). By the time "Space Dog" came on, I sang "Someone somewhere must know the ending" and then sort of sobbed. After that, I was better. I rolled down the windows. It was a beautiful day.

3. When I came home, I found my father online looking up information on Lou Gehrig's Disease. His hand is still giving him problems, and his leg, but I'm sure it's from the surgery he had a few months ago. And he's probably just investigating possibilities (LGD is extremely rare), it still freaked me out.

4. At work, I attempted to take a picture of a strangely morose little girl who would neither smile nor look in my direction. It occurred to be that calling her name might help, so I picked up the info sheet on my camera stand and read it. Thinking that it was some kind of typo, I asked the parents "I'm sorry, what's your daughter's name?"

Which is how I, Carmen Maria Machado, ended up on my knees, waving my arms wildly above my camera, saying "Panda! Panda! Panda, honey, look here! Panda! PANDA!"

You know what? If my name was Panda, I wouldn't smile either.

5. Regarding my birthday: if you are in the DC area and would like to come to Bethesda to celebrate my 21st with me, you are more than welcome. Email me at carmen.machado@gmail.com for my cell and where we're meeting and all that good stuff.

6. When I left work Friday to get on the road to DC, my new coworker at the factory - a small, round woman named Veronica, who has been training me in the ways of janitorial work - called me a sweetheart, gave me a hug and told me to be safe on the road. I've known her for three days. I do love people.

7. The moon last night? White, brilliant, clear sky, fast moving clouds. I stepped outside around midnight and it was the kind of moon that made me shiver, and not because of the wind.

(By the way, advice re: life is more than welcome, as most of you hopefully already know. I apologize in advance to the 98% of my readers who are older than I am for feeling old at 21. I also apologize for how crappily this post was written. And for whining and freaking out unnecessarily.)




There might be more. But I need some lunch.

It is no longer my birthday! But it was indeed a lovely one, with dinner and bowling with friends. Thank you everyone for all of the presents, cards, wishes, message, LJ comments, and the like. I love you all. :D