It’s The Blue Angel‘s birthday today. The Nazis eventually really hated her because she was a traitor to their pure cause. It’s also Noel‘s birthday. He’s a dedicated race traitor on the academic scene. His name is Noel, as in “No�l No�l, born is the king of Isra�l,” because his parents had also had the somewhat dreadful idea of using a holiday to find a name for their child. Noel didn’t seem to care, but I’m a somewhat shy old goat, even with a scorpion rising and another in my moon. I would have preferred to have some camouflage.
I haven’t seen Noel in ages, last time was when I gave him Kain’s The Blue Gorilla LP for a housewarming present. But it occured to me today on our common birthday date that blue is a good camouflage for us mongrels, race traitors, and assorted angels. We’re a mixed bag, big as the sky, uncontained, which is just fine. End of day update: Well gee whiz, turns out that it’s Frank Paynter‘s birthday today, too (you have to read his entry from the 26th to the end: he drops the hint then). Happy birthday to you, too, Frank. Horny old goats unite…! (And kick ass!) (Uhm, your name’s not short for frankincense, is it?)
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Out of the blue, we find out that it’s your birthday today! Here is to blue skies, a sunny day (even if that Scorpio rising and moon prefer the shady side of the street) … and many happy returns!
Happy birthday!
Hmmm… a good number of my friends are goats … not that I know much about astrology (though I should, given the fact that I worked for a number of years as a copy editor for an astrology web site!
Thank-you Maria, I was just going to answer that it’s cloudy today (after days of beautiful sunshine) but the sun broke through in dramatic and occasional bursts after all. But, boy, did it get cold all of a sudden! Yes, my knowledge of astrology is limited, too, mostly because it’s not worth knowing about, but I do know just enough to laugh about it. (Being a horny old goat with a stinger for a tail is pretty funny, ain’t it? For a girl?) I dipped even further into spooky mythology this morning by listening to Bj
Yule, I am going to read the paper … but not until tomorrow after my meeting with the sixteen rivers collective press (the press publishing my collection of poems) … and certainly not until after the effects of a day spent in frustration with the muse wears off. I am supposed to turn up at a workshop early January with a fresh poem in my hands, and the more I tried to write today, the emptier and drier each phrase I managed to wrest out of the morass of words became. My muse, who has been off on some sunny Greek island unmapped in time or space and in some ancient version of the ClubMed deal, now turns up as an agoraphobic perpetual virgin of sorts, carrying around her lavender-scented book of poetic rules, casting those guilt-inducing sad eyes at me as I try to introduce her to the likes of … well, yes, even Bj
Happy Birthday, Yule!
And exactly 6 months from my birthday. Coincidence? Yeah probably. Happy Birthday Yule.
The disadvantage of having a birthday is that you are not allowed to join Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party, singing the Unbirthday song 🙂
Gratulations and keep on blogging for us!
Stu
Well happy birthday to you too! I hope you enjoyed today as much as I did, Yule. Thanks for the birthday greetings, and here they are returned to you.
Frank
Thank you for the greetings — it’s a funny time for a birthday, mad hatters or not, because it falls between 2 big holidays. jr, you’re lucky yours is in June, I have considered doing as QEII does and changing mine to June, but then realised that I probably wouldn’t be able to keep my story straight. And would I be half a year younger or older? (Another odd thing about b-days at the ends of calender years: I still have to count on my fingers to make sure I was x-# of years old in such-and-such a year. So, although born in 1956, I was 8 throughout all of 1965, and I was 8 in March of 1965 when I came to Canada, because I turned 8 in December 1964, and didn’t turn 9 until Dec 1965. But, I’m not kidding, I get confused and have to count on my fingers to make sure.
Ray, thanks for stopping by. Maria, good luck with your meeting tomorrow, and don’t worry, I don’t really need those gorgeous towels, it’s just a fetish I have for luxury textiles. In my next life, I want to come back as a fabric entrepreneur, as Arianna Scalamandre Bitter, and weave luscious damasks and forget all about academia…. I could touch fabrics all day long and think up great patterns and colours and all the designs of every great era, brocades, damasks, velvets, satins, silks, but especially the great gorgeous weaves…
Well, in real life I wear jeans and tshirts and polar fleece each and every day, but in my fantasies I’m decked out like a Renaissance courtier, or, even better, an 18th century libertine! Dream on, dream on!!
And I did have a very nice day, despite my rant against restaurants (see post above), triggered by disgust at the industrial farming practices we allow to continue, and so on and so forth. This is still a nice place to live, but god knows it could improve, too.
Wishing you a wonderful day and a year filled with happiness.
Happy Birthday!
Thanks, fundalupacious anonymous person…!
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