What Did You Get Me?

 Birthday around Halloween means costumes and partial nudity.

          It is Paul’s birthday today. Oh yes, it is also Thursday and this is CoupleDumb and all of that other stuff. But the important thing about today is that it is Paul’s birthday. Everyone on the same page? Good.


          Paul says: I celebrate my birthday. I’m the type of person that will walk around with a button that announces that I am the birthday boy. I’ve been known to wear a party hat for the entire day, walking around while pointing to the hat and telling people that it is my birthday. This is particularly bizarre behavior for a person who cringes at any form of acknowledgement, who goes fetal if called smart, and who becomes faint if you refer to his aesthetics as anything greater than Quasimodo-like.  Then I married into a family that has been doing the big birthday/Halloween celebration for years. (Happy birthday, Georgie. I love you.) For me, the birthday celebration is a big thing.


          I am not entirely certain why I feel this way. For those of you who have read our writing and know some of my inner sludge, then you know that I have a tendency towards being Emo. Dark drama plays through my head like old vampire movies before they invented talkies. So, on one hand, my birthday celebration in a commemoration of one more year that I have not given in to my shadow side, that I have kept myself happy despite, as my shadow would say, all of the evidence that I shouldn’t be.


          But there is the flip side, the side of me that is not starting at the dysfunctional inner child. You know that Lee and I believe in the power of intention. This year, my intending powers have really come into the spotlight. It seems like whatever I declare with a clear mind and conscious, comes to fruition. I would love to say that it is not magical because magic does not fit well into my paradigm but it is. I have intended people out of parties. I’ve intended money when I needed it. I’ve intended whole career changes. Trust me when I say that I am more incredulous and freaked out about it then you are.


          That being said, if you are willing to accept this premise then there is something that you need to know. (This is the scary small writing on the magic potion that the person does not read until after he drinks it.) Intentions are like having an old school genie. If you do it wrong, it will fuck you up. Do you remember the episode of the Twilight Zone where the old Jewish man asks the genie to make him the most powerful man in the world and the genie turns him into Hitler?


          This week we have written about some of my personal itchy scabs. To say that I want my daughter to stay my little girl forever would more likely inflict her with dwarfism then stop the flow of time. God forbid that I ask for the child that was miscarried lest we play out a horror novel in Steven King fashion. But these, and so much more, are the things that have created the new 45 year old Paul, the Paul that knows not to say he is middle aged because he can do the math and is NOT creating a death date intention. It is the good and the ugly that have become the celebration of my life; past, present and future.


          So my carefully worded intention for my life to date is to have happy children that are proud of their father without feeling beholden to him, to continue to grow in love as a man and husband, and to make a living writing – Fuck it, to make a GOOD living writing – and change some lives, not because I am some type of guru but because I’ve sparked some thought with what I have to say.


          And that’s it. In case you missed anything, let me summarize the important parts: today is my birthday.  


          Lee says: Happy Birthday to my wonderful, sexy, loving, brilliant, powerful, funny, youthful man who has the body of an Olympic Swimmer! (As you can see, this is his gift).

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