Today is my birthday. I am officially 27 years old. Thankfully my mother did not, as she’d threatened, wake me up at my actual birth hour of 4:40 am with faux labor pains, so it got off to a solid start.
My mom and sister wanted to see some of Washington outside of the city, and my friend Laura made a suggestion last night that we go to Snoqualmie Falls and eat at the Salish Lodge. This was the best suggestion EVER. We drove up to the falls, which were gorgeous, and the restaurant was even better. Just phenomenal food. Highly, highly recommended. Then we drove a few miles over to the town of North Bend, Washington, to eat at George’s Bakery, which was touted in the local paper as one of the top tourist attractions in the Northwest. I think that was false advertising, because the place was horrible, and the woman at the counter actually reprimanded my mother for wanting a fork to use with her brownie. Not recommended. But the actual town of North Bend was freakishly adorable, a bunch of Mom ‘n’ Pop stores and little homes just nestled in the Cascades with the clouds blocking out the top of the mountains. So cute. I loved it. Plus they had a little pet boutique where I got to buy some cute clothes for Leo. That always makes me happy.
We drove home and relaxed for a little bit, then grabbed dinner downtown, and then I took my mom and sister down to the airport, where they’re staying at a hotel tonight because their flights leave super early tomorrow morning. I was so upset that they were leaving. I kept threatening that I was actually going to drive them to a cage where I was going to keep them so I could visit them regularly. I promised them they’d have wireless access in their cage, so they could read my website. I was just really consumed with fear. I’ve been so happy with them here, never being left alone in my head, and I’m just really scared to face the world again. Really, really scared. But my mom apparently read my astrology for this year and it said that this is going to be a banner year for me. I’m supposed to find true love and have career success and just be a really happy person this year, so fingers crossed. I’m kind of clinging to that right now. Did I mention I’m scared right now? I think I’m also WAY exhausted. I think the past few weeks are catching up to me, and I’m just tired in my bones. I think maybe after a good night’s sleep I won’t be so consumed with fear.
Oh, and I made an appointment — drum roll please — with a THERAPIST. Not a psychiatrist, not someone to give me more meds, but someone who’s supposedly actually going to help me deal with this shit in ways other than medication. I’m usually not very psyched on therapists, but this one seemed kind of okay, and I’m willing to give it a chance. I’m desperate enough to give it a chance. I had to fill out all these forms on his website, and when I called to make an appointment, he picked up the phone and said “Hi there, Sasha.” I was like “Uhhh …” and he was like, “I was just looking over the forms you submitted, and when you called I noticed the phone number matched the one on the forms, so I knew it was you.” I thought that was kind of cool. At least he’s marginally observant. Oh and then he was like, “I’ve been re-reading your forms. You’re extremely articulate.” And I was like, “Well, I’m a writer. That’s my job.” Little does he know. Seriously I don’t think I was very articulate on those forms. I don’t really remember what I wrote, but I think it was something like, “A lot of the time I want to die. It sucks goat penis.” What can I say? I have a natural gift with language.
To be honest, I had a therapist years ago in LA who worked with me on my phobia of flying. His name was Dr. Rickles, but my mom always called him Dr. Wiggles, and I just loved him. He was this gray-haired, Ivy-educated dude with spectacles who was just so damn smart and kind and always got to the point. He really helped me a lot. I’m still scared of flying, but before Dr. Wiggles I wouldn’t ever get on a plane. Now at least I’ll fly, albeit unhappily. I was like, “Mom, if I have to get a therapist, he should look like Dr. Wiggles.” And this dude kind of does. So that’s why I went with him. Oh well. Whatever works, right? Dr. Wiggles 2.0 could get me in this week, so I’m seeing him on Thursday. Fingers crossed, kids.
Lastly, I think it’s hilarious how birthday communications have changed over the years. Just a few years ago, I would be fielding phone calls all day on my birthday. Today, I got about 400 Facebook messages, 30 Twitters, 20 emails, 15 texts, 10 IMs and TWO PHONE CALLS. Two. My two best girlfriends in the world actually picked up the phone and called me on my birthday. Everyone else e-communicated their birthday wishes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that — they sent along their thoughts and their love, and that’s what matters — I just think it’s so funny. The world, it is a-changin’.
So now I’m going to take a shower, take my meds, and try to get some sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow, so I’ll hopefully be out of my head, and my 28th year will get off to a good start.
