“Yeah, I know,” I sullenly agreed.
Debbie had spent the better part of a half an hour trying to help me figure out where I could go tomorrow for my birthday. She did her best, throwing out original ideas for day trips that would get me away from my usual routine. Nothing sounded appealing. Especially in the rain. I was getting pouty.
“Well, fine. Sit and pout for all I care. I can’t stop the rain.”
“But, it’s my birfday.” I childishly argued, hoping I could somehow garner some sympathy.
“Yeah, that sucks for you.”
I had had my heart set on going to the Chinatown Flower Festival on Saturday. With all the gloom and the rain we have been having, a flower festival sounded really lovely. Plus, I’ve been having a hankering to go to Chinatown for a while now. So, I got quite attached to the idea and was really looking forward to it. But, now that rain was in the forecast, it looked like that idea was not going to happen.
On my way home from work I felt this really strong craving to visit someplace exotic. The craving was very strong, bordering on obsession. A visit to an Indian or Mexican grocery store might satisfy it, but they would probably be closed. I wanted to go to a bazaar and pick up exotic, yet cheap little items. I wanted to be someplace other than where I was.
I recognized this as mere craving. So, I watched it arise, curious about its origins. It seemingly came out of nowhere. But did it? Maybe it was this expectation that my birthday is an inherently special day, especially when it falls on a Saturday. The same old same old simply won’t do. Boy, was I setting myself up for disappointment.
Even though I couldn’t satisfy this craving, I didn’t want to go directly home, so I stopped at Border’s to buy some blank cards, and maybe a nice pen. My childhood friend Carol had to put her cat down the other day, so I thought I’d get her a card, as well as one for my cousin Vicki whose husband lost his battle with cancer. Thinking about their losses, as well as my brother’s health situation, I slowly started to feel my own head emerge from my ass. The craving for the exotic was disappearing.
So, today, the boyfriend and I will get in my newly legal car and head south. I’ve never been to San Juan Bautista, and maybe we’ll make a stop at the Rosicrucian Museum in San Jose. Sure, it’s not Mexico or Indian, or even a Cost Plus World Market, but I think I’ll just enjoy my rainy birthday, happy to be alive and healthy.