There's nothing all too exciting to report, but today starts with cupcakes. I abhor chocolate (it's a fact!) and no one really makes the kind of cake that I want for my birthday, so I'm making my own. Except, you know, in cupcake form so it's easier to deliver. I love to bake, but I don't like doing it for myself, if that makes any sense. I bake to deliver/share. Even if I end up with stuff around the house, it just kind of sits there...
Anyway, I'm making green tea cupcakes and discovered the most awesome baking materials - silicone heart-shaped cupcake holders and Chris picked up a little baking tray that's shaped like dinosaurs. They also had butterfly and flower shaped ones, and I was like, wow, this so makes me want to bake more except I really don't like, have anyone to bake for. I'm bringing stuff by for the folks I work with, but I'm like, my boss can eat a dick, that goddamn enabler. And of course cupcakes for the comic book guys cause they're always awesome to us, but when I really think about it, I don't have that many people to go deliver to. I guess that's what happens when you move.
Jokingly yesterday, I told a coworker he wasn't invited to my birthday party, and then had to explain why I wasn't having a party. I don't like large/small gatherings of people all in one place. Since I can also count the number of actual friends I have on one hand, I don't want to spend the day surrounded by people who I don't really want to be around. Most birthdays I prefer to just be left alone and buy what I want to buy. I guess when I was younger I wanted the idea of being surrounded by people that cared and were happy to be there, but please. I'm not the type of person that has a lot of friends, or ever will. That's fine, too. The older I get, the more I realize how much I inherited from my father.
My mom's real big on going all out on birthdays, but to be honest, it's another day for me. I want to go swimming and have sushi, but seriously, I bought just about everything that I could "want" material-wise (because I can't buy a new job, unfortunately), so that's that on that end. The thing I think I'll miss the most is my dad calling me to just talk to me. It was like my birthday was the day that my folks set aside their shit to be honest with me for a little bit, and I'm going to miss that. I missed it bad last year.
My mom and I got into a fight not too long ago and haven't spoken since, and to be honest, I don't expect to hear from her or my grandparents. Secretly, I kind of hope that I don't. The fight my mother and I got into was so indicative of our relationship (oh so very tenuous in the best of times) that I just don't want to be reminded of it on the day of my birth. Yes, I'm terrified that my father isn't proud of me because I'm just fucking surviving instead of being honestly happy and feeling accomplished in my life, and that's something that I know he wanted for me. He didn't, and doesn't, want me to be miserable. I know he knew about just surviving; he also knew how terrible it was when you want to do so much more. I know, in a sense, that I'm in a downtime until it's time to go to the next phase, but I'm just scared that I'm letting him down. The aspiration to do something more, to be honest to god compelled to do something more, is something my mom just doesn't understand.
Rick said that I had to go into a "noble" profession because that's what my dad did. My dad was a paramedic - he was in the business of saving lives. One time he confessed to me that if he had had more support, he wanted to be a doctor. But it wasn't just that. He helped/coached kids at the YMCA. My dad was someone that did for other people, and he was also someone that got constantly fucked over because he was so kind at his heart. He was a good person, and the world does not like good people, but it cries and yowls and demands for good people to constantly save it without thanks. I saw my father grow bitter, but he never stopped what he was compelled to do, despite divorces, hardships, no relationships with his own parents. I find myself in the same situation, somewhat, but with more ice than he had. I don't let people get close. I push them away. I don't want to form tight bonds with a lot of people because I know how folks are, and I can't get angry at them or fault them for it. That's just how humans are. If my dad can deliver babies and stop you from dying and not get a word of thanks, what am I honestly expecting?
In this life, I find myself doing things because I'm compelled to, and as I get older, this gets clearer. I wanted to animate because I wanted to touch people emotionally. Now, finding myself unable to do just one thing, I want to do something that will make the world a better place, as hackneyed as that sounds. Yes, I want to teach, but I want to read, write, and research. There is something out there in this world that I can indeed do and fulfill, but my road isn't as easy as it is for some people. I can't do just one thing, and I won't be happy until I find out how to combine all of my interests in a way that grabs and promotes understanding.
Because I'm colder than my father, I don't know if I have a breaking point like he did. As much as I loathe surviving, I do it anyway because I have no other option. I can't stop. I don't know if something will ever be so big that it will just make me stop entirely. In the later years of my dad's life, everything got to him. I think nothing more hurt him than the constant removal of his children - my mom did it to him, my stepmother followed suit. I was lucky because I was old enough and had enough nasty in me to constantly fight with my mother about it and against it. It's probably why our relationship isn't so great now. Everyone knows I was closer to him. I can't imagine what it's like to be "betrayed" like that like he was, and I can understand what it did to him. I wonder if it'll do the same to me, because at my heart, in the pit of my soul, I feel like I'm a lot meaner than he was. I don't give people the chance.
Will this change in the new year of my birth? I doubt it. If I had honestly disliked this part of my personality, the part that makes me so aloof, so inaccessible, so cold, I would have changed it. But I embrace it, both quietly and outwardly. It is who I am. At best I hope to be charismatic in my solitude, and at heart, in that center, the issues I have my looks don't matter there. Why should it? It can come off as rejecting the world before it rejects me, or the truth: being focused on something more lasting and imperative than the now. I've always had this amazing inability to live in the present, to be happy now. At the smallest stretch of time, I think about tomorrow, at the longest, years from now. I didn't see myself with anyone who could love me, and yet here I am. So I might be wrong about a few things, but sometimes it's nice to be wrong.