35 Things I'm Grateful For On My 35th Birthday

Thirty-five years ago today, I was born with bright orange hair.  Why is this significant?  Well, about eight months before I popped out, my mother proclaimed that if she had a baby with red hair, she'd flush it down the toilet.  The mere fact I'm even alive should top my list of things I'm grateful for.  Being a Ginger is dangerous business.

So as a show of gratitude on my birthday a few years back, I sent my mother a dozen roses with a card that read:  Dear Mom, thanks for not flushing me.  Love, Kris.  Needless to say, she had a lot of explaining to do when the delivery guy dropped off the arrangement.  I guess one could surmise I've been fucking with her since day one.

Anyway, here it is - a list of 35 things I'm grateful for (in VERY particular order):

1. Being alive.
2. That I managed to make it through my twenties without contracting any life-threatening diseases. (Seriously, you all read my blog.  This is truly a feat within itself).
3. To that end, I'm grateful for my health.  And, might I add, that as a former smoker of thirteen years, my wrinkle situation could be so much worse than it is.
4. So I guess I'm also grateful I have a mother who insists wrinkle creams make the greatest birthday and Christmas presents.
   
5. And, while I'm at it, I'm pretty grateful for Botox, and the blissful ignorance that accompanies Science not having concluded any significant side-effects… yet.
6. My parents - although they didn't make the Top 5, their significance goes without mention.  I mean, I'm here, right?  You're welcome, world.  (I just made myself vomit.)
7. My brother.  Without him, A LOT more attention would have been paid to me. 
8. Twitter.  This piece-of-shit platform introduced me to my boyfriend.  No, that's not normal.  But then again, neither am I.
9. Vaccinations.  'Nuff said.
10. Therapists.  I've had a life, people.
11. Birthdays - because if they stop, I'm dead.
12. Sobriety.  Saving lives, relationships and genitalia since forever.
13. My extended family and the rich history that preceded them.  I'm related to some very questionable people, and I love them all.
14. Little earthquakes.  They really shake things up.
15. Friends that stick like glue, even after I disappear.  I have a tendency to fail at communication, and there's a few who remind me of this character defect frequently.
16. LOVE.  Broad, vague, ambiguous love. 
17. Vibrators.
18. My furry baby, Charlie.  
    
19. Alice in Wonderland, for stoking the embers of my imagination and creativity at such a young age.
20. That I am lucky enough to work in an industry I love, pursuing my spirit's passion. 
21. I'm a female living in a country that does not practice female circumcision.
22. My childhood - it was "normal" (for whatever that's worth).  Subsequently, I have no real excuse for my reckless behavior in my youth.
23. Accountability - Understanding what that really means has truly set me free.
24. I'm not starving.
25. I'm not homeless - although if I didn't have the supportive family I've been blessed with, I most certainly would have been homeless many times over.
26. For all my relatives, particularly Uncle Gumby, who opened their home to me and let me crash on their couch so I could chase my dreams.
27. Orthodontics.
28. Health Insurance.
29. A big shout out to the two Angels who reconnected me and my mother after she goddamn LOST me at Santa Anita Racetrack when I was two years old.  (She just kept trying to cut loose of the Ginger, but we ALWAYS come back.)
30. Facebook - as much as I hate to admit it.  I'm shit at keeping in touch, and this thing has really pulled through.
31. Rainbows - mainly for inspiring so many great YouTube videos and idiotic Tweets.
32. Unicorns - for their majesty and healing powers.
33. Grateful I learned to read good.
34. Beyond grateful I have codependent enablers for parents, who never have and never will give up on me.  
35. To have had the privilege of experiencing unconditional love, especially during times when I could not love myself.  
36. And for good measure - humor, laughter, jokes and irreverence - without which, I may not have a shot at a career.

Oh, and just in case you weren't sold on #18 :

Comparison Is The Thief Of Joy

Otherwise known as: Why Facebook is the Devil.

Or in my world: There's always going to be someone smarter, prettier, funnier, skinnier, richer, cooler, more successful, more talented, (etc. etc. etc.) than me - as shoved in my face by The Book.  For real.  So it's essential for me to remember that everyone has their own journey, I am right where I am supposed to be, and everything will unfold in it's own divine and appropriate timing, blah blah blah.

This still doesn't thwart my wild, off-the-cuff jealous streak whenever a friend actualizes some good fortune, either personally or professionally.  My knee jerk reaction is to set them on fire, but instead I smile and congratulate them through gritted teeth and say, "I'm so happy for you…" until I convince myself I mean it.

Example:  All of you fucks getting married and having perfect babies.  I don't want to begrudge your happiness, but when you litter my Facebook feed with sunshine and rainbows, you leave me no other choice.  Instead of catching a ride on your wave of bliss, I'm falling down the rabbit hole of all the ways my life lacks your joy.  Then the maniacal laughter kicks in as the tears begin to fall and I'm rocking back and forth like goddamn Rain Man, repeating over and over that being single and family-less is "my choice."

Or YOU (amazingly talented person who sits across from me at work), with your perfect personality and fun Southern heritage who just happens to be brilliant at writing and is starting to scratch the surface of success… YAY FOR YOU, buddy!  You're like the Jackie to my Marilyn, and you deserve to see your dreams come true.  I'm so happy for you.

Does all this make me a bad person?  Am I a total asshole, or am I just human?  Because the fact of the matter is I just can't seem to help myself, and jealousy is like a welcome mat for doubt - which barges into my house, robs me of my prosperity, and then bitch slaps me on it's way out - leaving me filled with resentment and bitterness.

I realize this isn't exactly a shining endorsement of my character.  In fact, I think this would technically fall under the "character defects" category, but it's a malady from which I suffer.  I figure, why not see if a little honesty will expunge me of it's grip?  Because as of right now, the horror I face today isn't "the funny story I will tell tomorrow," it's actually my reflection in the mirror.

The truth of the matter is that success and happiness aren't measured in finite terms.  There's enough to go around.  One person's success and another's happiness doesn't lessen the amount from the Universal bank.  In fact, the happier and more successful people I'm surrounded by, the greater the odds I will see my own, because positivity is just as infectious as negativity if I allow it to penetrate my stone cold heart.  After my flash of insecurity passes, this is the place I land - because ultimately, I want to be a champion for my friends.  It's easier to love than it is to hate.  Also because bitterness and resentment cause wrinkles, and I can't afford regular Botox on my assistant salary.

Holiday Boom Boom?

Something about the Holiday season that breeds nostalgia.  Something about Facebook that acts as the perfect host/ carrier for indecent proposals, you know, "for old times' sake."  So imagine the degree of flattery I was met with yesterday morning when I was awakened to the sound of my past and my present colliding.

First came the sext messages from the new guy.  Always a fun and welcomed way to begin the day.  But then, like a bull in a china shop, Facebook crashed the party with a message of its own.

Appropriate response, yes?  My best friend would be the first to point out that "when the past calls send it to voicemail.  It has nothing new to say."  Sound advice.  But what about when it Facebook's you?

Long and the short of it: what's apparent to me is that I continue to elicit the same lascivity from most men who interact with me.  And I have an obvious affinity for sex toys.  Not for nothin', at least I'm consistent. 

Maybe now is a good time to contemplate some new resolutions.