birthdays come and go

karaoke is forever.

usually on my bday, (and leading up to it and in the days following) i feel a heaviness, a sense that i need to take stock, to meditate on where i am, where i want to be...how to be a better person, resolutions i want to stick to, goals i want to meet. at the same time, it's my nature to take stock all the goddamn time, not just when i turn older offically.

this yr, those deep questions were yonder on the horizon but i didn't wanna think about them. it wasn't a question of avoidance. simply a desire to have a fun day and not sweat all that i want and have yet to have. so, i met a friend for lunch at a museum and saw that klimt painting, adele bloch-bauer, she's been in the news. exquisite/over the top most lush, most erotic. too bad all kind of notebooks and address books and post cards have klimts everywhere, takes the stuffing out of the real thing just a tiny, regrettable bit.

hours later...karaoke with pals. and really, karaoke is like a balm for what ails you. i testify. if you've never done it...a bona fide blast and if you're afraid to...remember what my dear friend t. once advised: do something that scares you every day (i amend to every week). and if you're not ailing and not skittish about it, it's mississippi goddamn fun. now older, i dispense advice.

set list included (but was not limited to):
separate ways, journey
2 out of 3 ain't bad, meatloaf
jackson, johnny cash and june carter cash (sung in a duet by slush and c.)
middle of the road, pretenders
she's got you, miss patsy cline