I hate my birthday. It is a cursed day. This is why I am called Kirst-y Cursed-ty. It all falls into place now.
Anyway Feb 6, I wish it did not exist but it does, thanks to those who wished me though, that was sweet.
My birthday included talking a woman at the airport into sending me my one found bag even though she assured me that she would lose her job over this. (My luggage took an extended vacation after my return on Sunday. I can't blame it for this, if I were in it's stage of life I would have done the same.
It has been spotted in Paris, Amsterdam and Johannesburg-over and over again..then one bag miraculously supposedly found its way to Detroit, BUT! I was not allowed to have it because they can't split up the luggage. That would be Very Bad. Bear in mind that they had told me that the other piece was lost completely but still...can't give you the bag we do have because that is strictly against policy and a very Bad Thing) It makes perfect sense really. However, I know how to get a chick all feeling empowered and in a frenzy of competence when I have to. I am a doula after all. It took some doing but I did eventually got her feeling crazy and daring enough to do this unprecedented thing for me. That of allowing me to have my luggage. I think I may have changed her life. Watershed moment. Next thing she will be running for President.
After this public service. I sat in bed feeling very very sorry for myself because a)I have not seen sunshine since I ran on the beach on Saturday b) I hate my birthday c) I have been unable to go running as my running shoes have been AWOL with the luggage d) I wish I lived in South Africa and not here. It is really MOST unfortunate that we live here. All this equals the perfect storm of Depression. This is typical of February.
As fun as that wallowing was, I was forced to take my kids to school and then returned home to my one bag which had arrived! With a big hole in the side of it. I spent a happy hour taking stock of what I believed had fallen out of the hole and what I hoped was in the other lost bag (which I cling to faith will one day be found and released to my custody).
After that good time I went for my weekly dental visit, because I love the dentist. You know I do. I think the dentist thinks I have dental Munchausens or a big crush on him. Whilst in SA, something started growing out the side of my gum. It looked like a tooth but surely not? Dentist confirmed that it was a piece of the root of my baby tooth that never came out (because it has no big tooth above it).
We had until now been optimistic that my baby tooth would hang in there for the rest of my life but since the root has now shattered with bits of it growing out the side of my gum, that is not looking to be the case. So he gave me a few shots and pulled the root splinter out with a nifty pair of pliers. Then we had a chat about how that tooth would need to be pulled and replaced with an implant. As exciting as that is to me, as a dental Munchausens person, I bet it will be pretty expensive. But you know, It's always good fun at the dentist so good thing I went on my birthday. While I was checking out, the receptionist was talking on the phone to her hysterical daughter who had just had a car accident on the terrible roads (because Feb 6 demands shockingly bad weather every year), it's her birthday today too. Which proves that Feb 6 is cursed. Have I mentioned my birthday really really is not a good day?
After having several near accidents on the ridiculous roads home I returned to a freezing house, blue children, a grim looking husband crashing around in the basement. In time a grim looking repairman came and my husband spoke to him in hushed tones, probably about just giving him the deed to our home in order to get it fixed. I managed to get Gracie to tell me that Aaron had bought me a really great camera for my birthday. I have been begging for this camera for years actually and since I fell and broke my existing camera in SA, I kind of need it. However, in my grim state of mind I instructed Aaron to return it in order to pay for furnace and dental surgery.
Alas I am weak. They talked me into opening it and I could not resist it's paparazzi like speed and it's stunning clarity. Unfortunately we will have to give up Jonathan to pay for the fake tooth and our heat.
We decided to have a re-do for my birthday as I ended up eating rice cakes for dinner and it was not exactly a hugely celebratory day. However, before I left SA my family took me out for a pre-birthday dinner here and that was rather magical. Here are some photos of my non-cursed birthday dinner:
Face painting
I found some bouganvillea on our way to the restaurant. Ever since I can remember, the birthday person has worn bouganvillea in their hair on their birthday. What I am drinking is red Grapetiser. It is a sparkling grape juice that I mainline from the time I get onto a plane that carries it. Why they do not sell it here eludes me.
My mom arranged for these guys to sing happy birthday to me. I think it was in Zulu and it was the coolest happy birthday serenade ever.
Dancing (but mostly helplessly laughing) with my sisters
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