The Po Show

Flying Through the Decades

I was born 40 years ago today.

I was born in San Fernando, the original Valley Girl, but was plucked from that hot spot (I used to protest when we went to visit my grandparents, "It's too hot in the Valley!" I remember my mother once replying, "But it's winter!," like that was relevant) and moved to Oxnard at the tender age of one. You know in the movie Sideways, how Paul Giamatti's character gets off the freeway in Oxnard to visit (and rob) his mother? That's the exit you get off to get to my mother's house, the house in which I grew up.

Here are my memories of my decade milestone birthdays:

On my 10th birthday, I went to the drive-in with some neighbors, to see Midway (lots of WWII movies in those days). I remember the mom chastising her son for being mean to me in some way by saying, "But Robert, it's her *birthday*!" A couple of days later, on the 4th of July, we had my family party. I had just turned 10, and America turned 200. I felt very grown up, very mature, to be in double digits.

On my 20th birthday, Ross had let himself be scheduled for a double shift at work (he was a clerk's helper, also known as a bagboy, at Lucky's in Santa Monica). I was pissed off. He was still really catering to my moods back in those days, and he felt really badly. He offered to take us out to dinner at the Bonaventure, and get us a room there, on the following day, *but that wasn't going to be my birthday*. I cried and carried on. He gave me a bunch of lovely clothes and I didn't even want to open them. We have these pictures of me as I finally opened the gifts, with my face all red from crying. Geez, I just want to slap myself. We did end up going to dinner the next day and it was very nice.

On my 30th birthday, we were in New Haven, CT. Ross was teaching in the Junior Statesman program at Yale for a month, and I tagged along because there was no way in hell I was going to be without him on my birthday. I had been absolutely obsessing about turning 30 for the whole year leading up to the day. How I was going to be 30, and I had nothing to show for my life. I didn't have a career (I had a job, but it wasn't the job I was meant to have), I didn't have a house, I didn't have a baby (we'd been trying for over three years and the continued failure had consumed my existence). I wasn't going to be young anymore. I was going to be old. I had been riding on cute for a long time, but how could I be cute at 30? But on that day in New Haven, as I was waiting for Ross to get out of his session, I struck up a conversation with some of the Junior Statesman high school students. I mentioned Ross, and said I was his wife, and one of the teenaged boys said, startled, "You're a wife? I thought you were a student in the program!" Okay, getting mistaken for a high school student on my 30th birthday was exactly what I needed. That was awesome.

And today is my 40th birthday. I still don't have a career (or even a job) or a house. I do have my babies though, my matched pair of miracles. I obsessed a bit about turning 40, but really, I'm too damned busy to worry too much about anything concerning myself. This morning I woke up (or rather, was woken up by Tessa running into our room) and thought, "Yeah, whatever."

Certainly there are things about myself and my life with which I'm less than satisfied, but the balance sheet looks pretty damn good. With all that I have, it is indeed a happy birthday.