42

 Well, then. What about 42?

42 was the jersey number for Jackie Robinson, the first Black man to play in American Major League Baseball. The number is now retired, and only worn on Jackie Robinson Day.

It is, apparently, the "Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything" in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which I have not read.

It is the atomic number of molybdenum. 

It is the angle rounded to whole degrees of the arc of a rainbow.

And it is my age, as of today.

This is my second birthday without my mom, and the first birthday I've ever been unable to receive a hug, even from my dad. I will have no party or special dinners out with friends because of the pandemic. I'm not feeling sorry for myself, but it is quite strange. 

There you have it--forty-two trips around the ole Sun, and here I am, wiser...ish, and still acting about my shoe size. I'll celebrate tonight with a small treat for myself and a cuddle with my cats, and get up before dawn tomorrow to work out on Zoom with K the Brit, my latest trainer, before suiting up for an online meeting with my students. 

Here's to another year, Wild and Absolutely True!

Forty

Forty is an octagonal number, and the atomic number of zirconium.

It is a unique number (in the negative) at which the Fahrenheit and Celsius scales correspond.

There were 40 days and 40 nights of rain in the Biblical flood.

Johnny Cash recorded "Forty Shades of Green," about, of course, Ireland.

Forty winks is a short nap.

Forty weeks is the average term of human gestation.

There are 40 spaces in the traditional Monopoly game board.

And forty is the first birthday in my life that I celebrate without Mom. So my celebration this year is quiet, not because I feel I ought to for Mom's sake (she'd hate that), or because I feel it's inappropriate to celebrate so soon after her death (she'd hate that even more). Rather, it's because I haven't had the energy to plan anything big and fabulous. I've been channeling what energy I do have into planning for the new school year, and helping Dad sort through Mom's things, and taking care of my most immediate needs for rest, and, yes, some solitude. School starts this week, and with it, the busy days.

So today, I am forty. Forty years old, forty years young, or just meet me right here, at forty. I work at an amazing school doing something I love, I own a home, and I am surrounded by family and friends who love and support me (including, of course, Da Boyz).

Life rolls forward.

39

Thirty-nine is the sum of consecutive primes (3 + 5 + 7 + 11 + 13).

It is the atomic number of yttrium.

There are three songs called "39," by The Cure, Tenacious D, and Queen.

There were thirty-nine signers to the United States Constitution.

Pier 39 is a famous tourist attraction in San Francisco. 

As of yesterday, I am 39 years old. Pushing forty, I suppose, but that doesn't really bother me. Age is a number, not a diagnosis. Besides, I've got a fantastic trip to The Netherlands planned as my 40th birthday present...though I'll be going closer to my "half birthday" than to my actual birthday!

I had a great birthday. I woke up to a text from my parents--a video of them singing Happy Birthday to me from their recliners over their morning coffee. I had a bit of a lie-in with Da Boyz (which was lovely after the fun-but-hectic first week back at school). Sarah texted me asking if she could take me to lunch, so we agreed on the Cheesecake Factory, where we ate...a lot. I had the salted caramel cheesecake, which was heavenly. And Sarah, of course, had notified the wait staff before I got there that it was her friend's birthday. 

Archie, bird-watching.

Popcorn, on my shoulder, makes me happy...

All that gooey salted caramel. YUM.

This is 39.

Sarah had a hot fudge sundae.

Thank you, Sarah!!

After lunch, I did a bit of shopping in the Galleria. I needed a few work items and found some slacks, a darling plaid skirt, and some great blouses. I also found the t-shirt below, so of course I bought it, and yes, I will wear it to work (on Casual Fridays).

After that, I went to Mom and Dad's, and they took me out for Thai food at a place I like in Lincoln. Though I wasn't overly hungry, I had some room by then, though I had plenty of leftovers for today and didn't eat another bite of anything once I got home!

Throughout the day, I followed the news from Charlottesville, Virginia, with a heavy heart. It's horrifying to me that in the year 2017, we still have people who believe that the white race is genetically superior (though looking at some of the pictures of people who believe this, carrying their Polynesian-origin tiki torches, one wonders just what their definition of "superior" is...). 

All in all, my birthday was quite satisfying on the home front, however, and I am blessed to have so many lovely friends who called and texted throughout the day. 

38

Thirty-eight is the atomic number of strontium, a metal. It is the number of slots on American Roulette wheels. It is an even number, divisible by 1, 2, 19, and 38. Otherwise, it's not the most remarkable number out there...but it's my age as of today, August 12.

I suppose it means I'm really pushing 40, but I prefer to live my life one age at a time, so I won't dwell on that. At 38, I am a full-time music teacher, a homeowner, a three-time half marathon finisher, and still the same duck-toting, London-loving, loud-singing Meg I've always been. This year in my life starts off with ever-present possibility for adventure and joy.

May it be so.

The Week

I've been meaning to write...but every night this week, I've collapsed into an exhausted heap. It's been a good week. A hectic week, for sure. But a very good week.

Will there be challenges in the new job? Of course. For starters, commuting down a good stretch of Watt Avenue twice a day is a soul-sucking experience. It's better in the morning, when I leave, extra-early. It's terrible in the afternoon. But once I'm out of there and on to Interstate 80, it's early enough in the day that I miss the worst of Rush Hour.

The kids are cute. They're like kids at any school, but there's a sense of community and responsibility that is fostered at this school that has been missing in other places. I've only met my K-5 classes so far, and only for 20 minutes each, so it's hard to get a good read on them just yet. But they're excited to have music and art (I'll be adding some art in there), and they're responding well to me so far. I'm new, and different.

My colleagues are all very friendly and helpful. My bosses are present, involved, but not overbearing. They watch, they listen, they care--they do not micromanage (oh, Hallelujah, after this last school year).

Of course, there was also a birthday this week. Normally I make a bigger deal out of my birthday, but this week I've been too busy...and to be honest, I'm a bit "meh" about it this year. I turned 37, and it's a bit of an odd age for me. Thirty-six was fine. Thirty-eight will be, too. Thirty-seven feels weird, and I know that's an odd thing to say, but there you have it. (I dislike prime numbers. There. Now you know.)

What a summer it has been. So many changes, both good and bad. Leaving one job that I really loved, and finding a new one that I know I will love just as much, if not more. Finally going full-time again (it's an adjustment for my body). Losing my precious Millie-girl. God, I still miss her. Earning my personal training certification.

I suppose the whole point of calling this blog Wild and Absolutely True is that I really don't seem to do anything half-way...and the universe seems to comply with that.

Next week I'll see more of my normal schedule going forward. I'm looking forward to starting Monday off bright and early with the transitional kindergarten class, who sat so quietly for me yesterday and gazed at me like I was a rock star with my ukulele. So sweet! I'd forgotten how tiny kinders are, and how much I enjoy them.

In the meantime, I've got a weekend to enjoy. I'm bumping my Friday "gym" workouts to Saturday, and instead of schlepping all the way to the gym, I'm using my kettlebell here at home. Sunday is still my long run day, and I want to get seven miles this weekend. The badass doesn't stop!

A Very Merry Birthday

My 36th birthday celebrations started early, with Mom's cat Bella serenading me at 1:00. I believe this morning's wee-hours rehearsal involved Wagner's Ring Cycle. I know for certain it involved me getting out of bed, peering grumpily at the kitchen clock, and half-yelling, "Bella! KNOCKITOFF!" into the living room before harrumphing back into bed and passing out again.

I appreciate her efforts, though.

Things got a little more manageable later in the day. I went for a walk as the sun was starting to rise up over our neighborhood, and it put on a hell of a show for me.

Keane was playing on my iPhone and the sun was doing this--I stopped in my tracks and just enjoyed the moment. Sometimes, pure joy just takes over.

After years of never being at school on my birthday to carry balloons around, these days, I work on my birthday. Last year, it was the first day at my new job. This year, it was the second day of school and less of a deal. Still, the student government kids put a sign up by my classroom door, and my choir sang to me. One sprinted into my office to grab the inflatable tiara we use for birthdays, and I gamely wore it for a few minutes.

Otherwise, things were quiet. At lunch, I bustled through the office on the way from my choir room to the piano lab, and saw a man waiting in line at the front counter with a flower delivery. I thought vaguely that someone else must have a birthday or something today, as I sailed out, my arms full of papers, my planner, and the massive stack of catalogs I'd found in my mailbox...and my brain full of everything I needed to get done during the piano lab class today.

During 4th period, I had a text from my duck lady, Lindsay, in Michigan, asking if a surprise had arrived. In a rare free moment, I responded that I hadn't been home since early this morning, to which she responded, "No, at school!!" After school, I headed back to my office off the choir room, to find an email from the front desk ladies informing me I had a delivery.

Sure enough, those flowers had been for me. : )

(She even had "Go Grizzlies!" put on the card!)

I didn't stay long after school. I originally meant to, or to go to the gym, but home was calling me. Home meant a nice chat with Mom and Dad, and chocolate cake, because of course there's cake on my birthday.

I'm just relaxing tonight. There's tons to do, and I'll be up early tomorrow to do it, but for now, I figure I am allowed an evening of relaxing and reading. And digesting chocolate cake.

It's been a lovely birthday.

My Week In Instagram (Week #39)

What a Wild and Absolutely True kind of week it was! In the best way. So busy, so full of hopes and fears (Keane reference, there) and so amazing.

Sunday:

The calm before the storm included finishing my syllabus.
The school's theme this year is the "essential piece" idea.

I painted my nails a powerful red in preparation.

Monday:

This is the Sacramento Valley, viewed from the hills of
Lincoln, at 5:00 in the morning. I saw two Perseid meteors!

Ready to go!

A very tired teacher relaxing in her office after a successful
first day.

Birthday margaritas with Sarah at Chevy's.

I got sombrero'd.

Birthday cupcake!

Millie dug the sombrero, apparently.

Tuesday:

Anonymous card at work. I'm glad I've joined, too!

I set up my new mini fridge in my office, great for keeping
healthy snacks and plenty of water on hand.

PEST stands for Parents E____ Supporting Teachers and
it's a lovely thing to find something like this in your
mailbox. That card, by the way has been SPENT.

Wednesday:

Red pants, adorable (and comfy) ballet flats by Nine West.
School lanyard hanging from my pocket.

Just because the whole week is insanely busy doesn't mean
I skimp on workouts! Did lunges and step-ups with these
bad boys, then leg-pressed 150 pounds.

Sigh. It never lasts.

My birth state. I wear this shirt for workouts sometimes.

Thursday:

"Have a good day at work, Mommy!" I had to stop and take
this pic as I left. She's so cute!

Wore a new scarf on Thursday. Mom and Dad bought it for
me in San Diego last week.

Friday:

The first of 900 of these that I will receive this year. I don't
even have a show choir.

And even if I did, there's NO WAY I'd put the girls in
something this ugly.

On Friday evening, I attended the annual staff barbecue.
Staff offspring were welcome, and the admin team rented
bouncy houses and trains and even a gigantic slip-and-slide.
It was a lot of fun. This location, that looks like a park, is our
campus. Lovely!

I am far too tired/lazy to take pics today. I don't plan on doing anything exciting, unless you count watching movies on my bed exciting. I don't. I call it relaxing, and that is just what I need today!

What. A. Day.

I was talking to a friend at the gym today when I looked at someone else standing nearby and said, by way of explaining a comment I'd just made, "I'm a high school teacher."

Wait.

Holy.

I'm a high school teacher.

There are so many things to say about today, but I am ready for bed--so ready for bed, gah, I'm so tired!--and I have another full, crazy, hectic day tomorrow, so I'll just say that it was fantastic. My kids seem pretty great, and I danced with other staff members at the rally--which included our best booty-shaking to "Baby Got Back" and prompted huge roars of approval from the 2,000+ kids packed into the gym. (I figure if I want this program to grow, I have to be willing to be ridiculous in front of the kids, and they have to know that I exist in this school.)

My choir president greeted me at the beginning of class with a big hug and, "I told everyone how cool you are!!" I told the kids I'm a lifelong music nerd, "and proud of it," and received a few, "Oh yeah!!" responses. 

I saw two meteors this morning in a before-dawn walk I took to help Perseid celebrate my birthday. I flirted with a darling waiter at Chevy's while waiting for my margarita--courtesy of my friend Sarah--to arrive. I had far too much ice cream, and a cupcake that my parents bought me...and I even found time to lift weights and do cardio at the gym this afternoon.

My day started at about 4:30, when my eyes popped open in a mix of excitement and nerves, and ends now, shortly after 9:00, as I slump in front of my computer, sipping water to hydrate and eying to cats (Millie and Mom's Bella) who are waiting for some cuddles and thinking my happily exhausted body really out to be horizontal. So, off I go. It's been a hell of a birthday. : )

35

Thirty-five is the atomic number for bromine. It is divisible by 1, 5, 7, and 35...and it is a tetrahedral number as well as a pentagonal number, but now the math is just going over my head. 35 mm film is a standard in both photography (pre-digital, of course) and film (as in cinema).

It is the minimum age of candidates for the United States Presidency, which means I shall be announcing my platform as soon as I've completed a successful first lesson in my new job today...for yes, today, aside from being the first day as choir director, is also my 35th birthday.

Happy Birthday to Meeeee!! Here's wishing for a Wild (in the best possible way) and Absolutely True year as I soldier on towards 36.

With my brother, Aaron, in 1978.

Rock Star

The universe is funny in that it often delivers just what you need...just when you need it. Due to poor planning on my part, I've been in a state of hormone flux the last couple of weeks (that's what happens when you forget to schedule an appointment to get a refill on your birth control pills) and today it seemed to come to a head--just as I finally got myself to Planned Parenthood for the required blood pressure check (120/70, which is HEALTHY, after months of being a bit elevated. YAY!!).

The nurse at PP advised me to start the pills today to avoid anymore crazy hormone-induced feelings of wanting to cry at nothing, so I took one immediately on arriving home. But still, I couldn't escape that feeling of, "Gah, everything SUCKS today" that sometimes happens.

Imagine my delight when I stepped out to get the mail and found a FedEx package addressed to me on the doorstep. I knew it was most likely a belated birthday gift from one of my duck ladies. Inside, a pair of black "booty" shorts with ROCK STAR printed across the rear end. I've never been one to wear pants with words on the derriere but I will definitely make an exception for these. Because referring to myself as a "rock star" has been a repeated theme since I've been working with M. the Reasonable, and I'm so close to goal weight. I feel like I've earned the right to strut around the gym with ROCK STAR on the booty I've worked so hard to tone and firm.

And I don't care what anyone thinks of that.

Thirty-Four

The number 34 gets very little love, it seems.

I never hear anyone get all excited at turning 34. It's "mid-thirties," and as it's not a multiple of five or ten, it's not celebrated as a landmark birthday. There's no special privilege afforded to a person at age 34. I've been a legal adult, able to vote, and drinking legal margaritas for years now.

However, 34 is part of the Fibonacci sequence (and also, therefore, the Golden Spiral). It is not a prime number. (Silly Meg Quirk #542: I hate prime numbers greater than 10--that is, 1, 2, 3, 5, and 7 don't bother me--and avoid using lockers at the gym if they are numbered with a prime number. No idea why I do this.)

It is the periodic number of selenium, was the jersey number for Nolan Ryan, and a miracle once happened on 34th Street (haha). It is divisible by two and seventeen.

And I am 34 years old today. Twice the age I was on this day in 1995, facing my senior year of high school.

Thirty-four may not seem remarkable, but I feel blessed to reach it. Happy Birthday to me!

Happy Birthday to Meeeee!!

Today, I am 33 years young.

This week has been both fun and frustrating. Fun because I had a lovely day out in Santa Cruz on Tuesday, but frustrating because, yet again, I did not get a job I interviewed for (and thought I had a good chance at getting) and here I am, facing another move. This will be my seventh move in the last decade.
Anyway, I've been feeling a bit "blah" about the whole thing, even though I know that once it's all finished, I'll be glad for the new start, etc. It's the actual packing, finding a mover, securing a storage locker, etc. that has me feeling a little stressed.

But I can count on my friends to keep me smiling.

On the way back from Santa Cruz (I drove), I asked Meghan if she minded making a quick stop in Stockton so I could get my mail and pick up a few things that had sold on eBay. In my mailbox, I found a CD-sized package. Sure enough, inside was the Charlie Winston CD. Wow! But...I didn't buy this...and there was no note to tell me who it might be from.

Fast forward to Thursday. I drove to Stockton to get my mail again, and get a few more eBay things that had sold. On my doorstep was a package from Cafe Press. I started giggling. I knew it would be a shirt from the Keane For Amnesty shop.

Lindsay, my friend in Ducky Madness, had made a sly remark about my birthday coming up when I mentioned a few weeks back that I had to wait to have the funds to buy a shirt from the shop. Lindsay was the one to get this shop approved and set up (it's band-approved!). One hundred percent of the proceeds to to Amnesty International, a favorite of everyone's favorite Keane drummer, Richard.

The shirt:

I posted about my delight on Facebook, and found out from Maayan that the CD was a gift from all of my Swimmy's Ladies friends.

As I left to head back to Sacramento, I stopped by my mailbox. I found a package slip and ran down to the management office to get it. It was from Sarah in England.

I ripped into the package to find...Oh. My. Goodness.

She didn't.

Oh yes, she did.

A few weeks ago, Keane's official web site announced a sale on the merchandise in their shop. I lamented on Facebook that I'd love to have the Hopes and Fears piano hoodie...except that even on sale, with the exchange rate, it was still too expensive.

So my Swimmy's Ladies pitched in and got it for me.

All I could do was sit in the car and giggle.

A year ago, I barely knew these women and now, they are so special to me. It's amazing how music can bring people together and help friendships form. I can't imagine my life without them now, and even though I've only met Maayan so far, I know I'll have a chance to meet Lindsay, Sarah and Amanda one of these days. I can't wait.

My (BIRTHDAY) Week In Pictures

Oooh, a nice long Week in Pictures post for you...and it's been a while since I've done one, too.

Monday

On Monday afternoon, I drove up to Lodi to go to a used bookstore where I have some credit. I walked around the little downtown area getting some sign pics (which will all eventually end up on the sign blog, of course).

Tuesday

Tuesday was a cleaning day. I took the garbage out and before I could get a new bag in the bin, Harley had knocked it over and claimed it for his own use. That night, I had a one-woman (and two cats) slumber party on the couch.

No pics from Wednesday...

Thursday

Thursday, of course, was my birthday. I didn't take a ton of pics, but I did get a few good ones. You see, Mom and I went to Safeway to get a birthday cake and some ice cream--and we got a flat tire. Dad had to come help us out (he's got this cool little gadget that reinflates the tire). We followed him to Firestone, and now Mom's van is good as new. It was quite an adventure, but I'm happy to report that both the cake and the ice cream came out unscathed (thanks to Mom's quick thinking--she has those special bags for frozen goods and put the ice cream in one).

I should probably be embarassed to admit this, but it's too funny not to share the conversation Mom and I had when we had cake and ice cream. Mom, you see, thinks that I should have asked Richard, Keane's drummer, to marry me when I met him after the Oakland gig. Last night, after I blew out the candles:

Mom: Did you make a wish?

Meg: Ooops. No, I forgot.

Mom: That's okay, I made one for you."

Meg: Let me guess, that I find a rich man to marry?

Before she could reply (I'm pretty sure it was affirmative)...

Meg: No, wait, that I find a RichARD to marry?

Mom just laughed at me.

Friday

Today, Mom and Dad indulged my need for a day trip. We took Highway 49 from Auburn to Placerville, where we walked around so I could get a bunch of cool pictures (I love old Gold Rush towns!). We had lunch at a place called Tortilla Flats, then headed back towards Lincoln, where tonight we've had leftover birthday cake.

On the way, we drove through Penryn, which has this great old post office building.

Big bridge:

Old, unused bridge over the river:

Finally, we reached Placerville, also known as "Old Hangtown" because it used to be the site of a big tree used for hangings.

We went in a candy store so that Dad could buy some salted licorice (ugh).

Mom and I love browsing in antique shops--I found these Snoopy toys (but didn't buy them--I'm trying to keep the collection under control!). Also loved the Beatles figure.

Placerville Hardware is the second-oldest hardware store west of the Mississippi River, apparently. It is one of those wonderful, eclectic hardware stores with stuff like mermaid aprons, square coffee cups, and Super Genie slippers, which are a perfect example of all that I love about this country--creativity, imagination, and an uncanny ability to create problems that people didn't even know they had. Ahh, capitalism.

Tortilla Flats had the cutest paintings down at sidewalk level:

Mom and Dad waiting for lunch...