Birthdays

So I celebrated my birthday on Thursday, the 25th.  I've always liked celebrating my birthday.  It isn't just because of the presents, although that's certainly a great part of it.  There's always the center-of-attention aspect, too, that has made my birthday highly anticipated.  But that isn't the biggest delight for me, either.

After some deep thinking, I realize it's the whole position of being self-centered for a change.  I don't mean that in a negative way, really.  And this is just what it means to me.

Being the youngest of four kids, I usually felt at a disadvantage with my siblings.  They were all bigger and more knowledgeable.  (Notice I didn't say smarter.)  They had, of course, experienced more than I had, at least while we were children.  My sister and one of my brothers, older than me by three years and six years, respectively, were also nastier.  Those two delighted in teasing me.  Maybe tormenting would be a better word, because there was nothing humorous about it, most of the time.  So my birthday celebration was my reprieve from their provocations.

My siblings would say I was spoiled.  I say that, yes, my parents bought me a lot of stuff, but they didn't do much with me.  My parents were scout leader and den mother for my two brothers.  My mom helped out with the girl scouts for my sister.  By the time I was getting into those things, my parents didn't even drive me to meetings.  My brothers did.  I even went to the library with my brother.  Again, my birthday was a day that they paid attention to me.

I was a goody-two shoes in high school and didn't rebel or cause trouble.  I had five or six years in my early twenties when I could do as I pleased, whenever I pleased.  I made a good salary and had no debts.  I was 26 when I had my daughter, and though I don't regret that for a minute, it was pretty much the end of "play time."  Since then, I went from caring for my daughter for nearly two decades to caring for my aging mother.  Once again, my birthday was my selfish day.

It's one of two or three days a year that I devote mostly to myself.  (Notice the word mostly not entirely.)  It has become the day that I don't cook, don't clean, don't do much for anyone else.  Oh, I still have to make sure my mother eats, but we either go out or order in.  This year, my daughter brought home individual pizzas for dinner.  She also provided the chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes that were out of this world!  She also had my computer cleaned.  That was something she and my mother were going to pay for together.  My daughter met someone at work who did it for free.

The gifts are great, though and I don't want to diminish the thought people put behind them.  My sister sent me a card with a Visa gift card.  My two bff's took me to lunch earlier in the week and gave me gift bags.  One friend gave me cash with a candle and other goodies.  The other gave me a handmade scarf, my favorite chai decaf tea and other goodies.  A present from my daughter and mother is forthcoming.  I'm thinking shoes.  It's something that I usually spend around 30 bucks on, but if they are buying them, I think I'll splurge on some really cool, brand name shoes.  Maybe Skechers.  I'm still looking.

You wonder why I'm picking out my own gift?  I'm really not sure why.  I mean, my sister and friends always give me great gifts (although I admit I gave my friend the chai tea suggestion), but my daughter seems to have trouble picking out something for me.  My mother probably would do okay, but she can't get out by herself.  My family has just been "list" people.  You made a list of things you wanted and they bought some of those items.  I don't have a "list."  Other than getting my computer cleaned, I just want new shoes.

The other day or two in the year devoted to mostly myself would be Mother's Day, of course.  And Christmas to a much lesser degree.

I had a very nice birthday this year.  Next year will be a milestone (or maybe a millstone!) but it'll still be my day.  I'm sure one year, I'll wake up and feel old.  Hopefully that's a few decades away!

My Favorite Addictions

ad·dic·tion   /əˈdɪkʃən/ [uh-dik-shuhn]

–noun
the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma.
 
Origin: 1595–1605; < L addictiōn- (s. of addictiō) a giving over, surrender. See addict, -ion
 
Related Words for : addiction
dependence, dependency, habituation
 
I've been mulling this topic over for quite a while.  When I admit to being a biblioholic (my word), most people smile.  Some laugh.  Others reassure me that there's nothing wrong with that.  I beg to differ.
 
Right now, I have, within sight of my desk, about 20 stacks of books of varying amounts per stack.  That's just within sight of my desk.  Were I to go to my reading chair, there would be an additional ten or 12 stacks.  That does NOT include the four good sized boxes of books that are stored in my closet.  And these are just the books I haven't read yet.  Downstairs there are two, tall shelving units filled with books that I or my mother (or both of us) have already read.  Well, there's a few classics down there that I haven't gotten to yet.  Oh, and the Harry Potter series that I haven't finished.
 
Now, I am a frequent visitor to Half-Price Books.  They pay cash for used books.  Then there's Paperback Trading Company, who gives you store credit for books you bring in, making most of your purchases about 20% of the retail price.  I also donate quite regularly to the Justice Public Library.  So I get rid of almost as many books as I bring in.  It's that almost that accounts for the surfeit of books in my home.
 
I used to read a book a day.  That would be a "standard" paperback of approximately 350 pages.  Harlequin books I could do three over two days.  I would be taking books out just as much as I was bringing them in.  That has changed.
 
I am now, wholly, unresistingly addicted to Facebook.  Or, more specifically, Facebook applications such as Zoo World and FarmVille.  There are a couple of less time consuming apps that I also play.  I have also, on occasion, succumbed to the "chat' feature, although, not too much since it is a lot like talking on the phone, except you can edit your words!
 
Instead of reading as much, I spend my time feeding virtual baby animals in my zoo, scavenging for treasure in other people's zoos, harvesting crops on my farm and helping chase away raccoons, get rid of weeds and fertilize crops on other people's farms.  That's just the most time consuming stuff.  Then there's decorating, building and expanding.
 
I really enjoy these apps.  I have made Facebook friends solely on the basis of what games they play.  I now boast of friends in the U.K., Belgium, Germany, Australia and more.  I've met up with old school friends.  Some respond, others don't.  The ones who do are very friendly and glad to hear from me.  I've found people who were friends through a job I had over 20 years ago.
 
I get brief glimpses into the lives of many of my cousins, with whom I have caught up these last few months.  It's great hearing about one cousin's baby taking his first steps.  Or finding out another cousin (whom I hadn't heard from in 35 years) is a grandfather four times over.  Or the cousin who moved from Oklahoma to Maine and I knew before most of my family did.  Oh, there are a couple of cousins who haven't responded to my friend requests, but that's okay.
 
I get to see pictures of these people and their families.  Many times their pets and homes, too.  It really is a "social" website.  I've laughed, sighed, and commiserated with these people.  We sent Christmas and Valentine's greetings to each other.  It will never replace my friends that I go to lunch with, or those I visit with each autumn, but it certainly helps to keep me from being too self-absorbed.
 
So, when I'm reading, I think about my farm or my zoo and when I'm working my farm or zoo, I'm thinking about the book I'm reading.  Weird, huh?  What can I say?  If someone asks which I'd give up--reading or Facebook--I think I'd have a nervous breakdown before I came up with a decision!
 
The "I'm Addicted to Facebook" Smile courtesy of iSmile (on Facebook, of course!):
 

Dogs

I'm in a bookstore the other day when a guy walks in with a big dog on a leash.  No, it's not a lead-in to a joke.  (I'm not sure where you'd go with that. . .and I don't think I want to know.)  It's true!  Being more absorbed in my quest for books, I didn't get a good look at the dog; I just know it was tall.  He didn't bark or shove his nose anywhere he shouldn't, nor did he nervously pant.  He was, as his owner said, a very good dog.

My point?  I have to have a point to this?  Okay, I do have one.  Why was a guy bringing a dog into a bookstore?  He most likely had been to the nearby PetSmart, where, of course, you can bring your pets with you.  (I've never tried to bring one of my cats and never will.  I value my skin too much.)  But why not take the dog back to the car?  I'd have thought maybe he walked to the store, but I doubt it.  The area is not conducive to foot traffic.

Well, I never did find out why the dog came in with the guy.  (Btw, the guy headed right to the section with books on--you see it coming, don't you--dogs!)  But that little incident got me thinking.  And researching.

1.  From about 1950 until about five years ago, cats outnumbered dogs as pets two to one.  Now some of that was due to the size of the animal.  With a few exceptions, a cat doesn't get much bigger than 12 to 20 pounds.  But there are more than a few dogs who weigh more than an average human.  Mastiffs and St. Bernards for two.

2.  Cat popularity surged in the 70's and 80's with the bigger influx of women heading into the workplace, or more specifically, into jobs that were outside of the typical "9 to 5."  "Housewives" were becoming a rare breed and that left no one at home to care for Fido.

3.  The 1990's saw an increase in creative entrepreneurialism.  Services for the busy executive became very popular.  Everything from house-sitting to dog-walking.  My brother-in-law's younger brother had a "doggy day care" in downtown Chicago for a while.  With that, people realized they could work and have a dog.

I must point out here, that, although I classify myself as a "cat person,"  I have never disliked dogs (except for the ones that drool profusely.  My uncle had a St. Bernard and my family thought I was afraid of him.  I wasn't, the drooling disgusted me).  I grew up with several dogs, mostly German Shepherds.  I had a Beagle as a child whom I loved dearly.  But our dogs were never trained.  They trained us.  Scratching, whining and barking were all met with someone leaping up to see to the dog's needs (or wants).

Last summer, a friend of mine got their daughter a Puggle.  That's a Pug/Beagle hybrid.  Very cute.  Happily, little Abby the Pugle has been to puppy obedience school already.  I believe they have plans to further her education, too.  So a pleasant, well-trained dog is quite enjoyable to be around.  My cats may disagree, but that's neither here nor there.  (I have noticed more than a few people with cat-and-dog households say that either they get along fantastically, or the cat rules the roost.  I have to smile when my sister tells me that her cat will smack her dog on the nose.  Just to remind her who's in charge.)

Now I was leading up to something here.  Oh, yes.  With a well-trained dog, you can go almost anywhere.  In the city, you can find restaurants that will allow you to bring a dog in with you.  So why not a bookstore?  As long as the owner takes responsibility for any messes, why not take them with you wherever you go?  My only concern would be for small children who do not understand that ear-pulling hurts and a growl is a warning of worse to come.  But, if the dog has been properly trained, why not carry paperwork to that effect?  For dogs that are too big to be carried, have a simple certificate that allows the dog to travel with its person.  I mean, humans have to have an ID to go almost anywhere nowadays.

Doggy passports.  An idea whose time has come.