Sunday, April 03, 2011

37

I turned 37 yesterday. 37 years ago yesterday, my birth had to be induced because I did not want to leave my mother's womb. I was born at 42 weeks by means of induction. A real social misfit. I would still be there, protected and nurtured if I had any say in the matter. I just don't think my mother would have liked it. No, that would have been distasteful if I really think about it.

So, I have been a social misfit since the day of my birth. For some reason, I am really scared of people. At school when we had to do a speech in front of the class, I would be scared witless. I don't like being touched, even if it is by The One sometimes.

Yesterday morning we went to a men's barber to have ourselves tarted up for my Great Aunt's (I think) 80th birthday celebration later. I become so nervous when I am anyone's centre of attention (posing for a photograph affects me the same way) that my head starts shaking. Yesterday, I told the young woman that cut my hair that my scalp was ticklish and that was why I was shaking so.

It is like some kind of tic that I have no control over.

I hate it.

Anyway, usually I would just not attend a celebration such as the one I have mentioned. I would feign pathetically and get myself out of going. But I could see that it would really mean a lot to my family if The One and I went. So we did. As I have said, it was my birthday as well and of course they made an insane amount of fuss and everyone sang to me. What a disaster. I could not face the singing crowd of people (many of them strangers, and us the only two poofs). I just sat with my back to them, half dead and frozen stiff. Then I also received a present from a distant cousin. Photographs were taken.

I shall now proceed put this experience into a little box and lock it away. I'll deal with it later.

The rest of the do was OK. I'm so glad to see I'm not the only fatter, dafter, older one. Maybe the only balder one.

*

37 is a prime number.

It is also the first irregular prime number.

37% of men fantasize about their coworkers.

The 37th Greek word in Strong's Greek Dictionary is "hagiazo", which is translated as "hallow", "be holy" or "sanctify".

In a "3-4-5" right triangle, the small angle is 37 degrees.

All American Express card numbers begin with 37.

A collection of Beethoven's complete symphonies would have 37 tracks.

There are 37 points in a "perfect" bridge hand.

37 is the atomic number  of rubidium.

I am 37 years old.

Do I see anything in my future? Naah. The earth was made round so that we would not see too far down the path.

*

We have discovered a new band which we really like. If you ever come across Northern Girls by Belleruche, listen. Brilliant.

I got up at 7 this morning and could not believe that it was only Sunday. I was so refreshed that I cleaned up. I took out the trash. I washed the mountain of dishes. I cleaned the fridge. I replaced the disgusting cat litter. The cats both thanked me by pooping in the litter directly. I did the laundry. I cleaned the couch. I sorted our sock disaster.

The sock disaster. Some in the living room. Alfred hides them in the couch as soon as he rips them from our feet when we get home after work. Lots of odd ones. Lots of moth eaten ones. Some dirty. So I sorted the whole mess, washed the dirty ones (determined by sniff test and crunchiness) and and rolled pairs into bundles. Chucked the unsalvageable ones in the trash.

37, what? Hyper.

I may be a social misfit, but I shall be one with a clean goddamned house.

Thanks to everyone who contributed into making my day special. I have received enough money to get a really posh satchel. And two very interesting books.
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