Happy Birthdays






April 12, 2014

 Dear Hearts – Today is my 60th birthday. Sixty. Yikes! I remember in my youth, thinking…how does anyone that old go through the day without going insane? 
      I’m still pondering that, not because of this milestone. It’s a daily question I’ve asked most days since I became a sentient being. Age & birthdays are cunning, baffling and powerful obsessions. The first 25 years of life I longed to be older, and the next 35, reversed that position. Oh, I’ve lied about my age throughout life, but I herby vow to stop that vain, fruitless practice – not b/c I’ve gained wisdom, but because, with technology, you can’t get away with it anymore. Oh sister – it’s just a click away, click away. 

       My actual birthdays have ranged from lovely gestures  I’ll never forget to drunken bacchanals that I’ll never remember. To the worst – total disregard. The fever dream of turning 50 comes to mind –  Early stage pneumonia, drenching cold rain, my son’s 9th grade baseball game, post- 10 hour work day and an hour commute to the old ballpark. In the stands, my mom and dad –  the Chip Caray and Pete Van Wieren of the Druid Hills Devils, huddle over their star grandson’s ERA, batting average AND slugging percentage.  Not only did they not smother me with embraces, and “Happy 50th Birthday, our only beloved child!”-  they didn’t say “Hey” or acknowledge my presence!

      Oh, I’m over that. Almost. But the one birthday constant – from 18 to 60, is a pensive, unsettled mind. Is this common to everybody? My girlfriends who’ve celebrated with Cold Duck and hot male strippers, or whose husbands have showered them with diamonds and jaunts to to Diamond Head, just don’t appear to be pondering random chaos, aging, life OR the afterlife, as I do. 

      Dear readers, please indulge me – your Casper the Friendly Ghost of Birthdays Past,  in what I hope will be an entertaining navel-gazing reflection on my most significant, albeit wistful anniversaire memories.

     I’ll start tomorrow. I think I’ll take a dram of Beverly Hillbilly Granny’s  “rheumatiz” medicine, adjust my age group on Lumosity and turn in early, so I can show up at Denny’s bright and early for my Senior Special. That’s If Denny’s, and I, still exist.

     Until then, see (TOP) the last photo of me april 10 in my fulsome fifties, and a retro fifties birthday party (I’m left of my best friend Suzie – birthday girl) at the fateful year of four (more on that later) 

Joyeux anniversaire anyone?








About georgialeesays

Award-winning journalist, editor and writer of multiple genres. Former Bureau Chief, Womens Wear Daily and W magazine. Past director, Ivy Hall, The SCAD Atlanta writing center. Vice President, programming for Atlanta Writers Club. Freelance writer/editor of every subject in the known universe. Lover of clean, clear writing -"It is my ambition to say in ten sentences what others say in a whole book." - Nietzsche. I teach yoga, meditation, in retreat settings. Seeker of truth and transcendence. Reincarnation of Edgar Allen Poe. "Life is but a dream within a dream within a dream" Write. Create. Learn. Dance. Yoga. Sleep. Dream.
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4 Responses to Happy Birthdays

  1. Ken says:

    Happy Birthday, dearest Georgia. I always did remember that you share your birthday with the anniversary of “that most recent unpleasantness”. In my opinion you look great, by the way, and I’m bolstered by your “pondering random chaos, aging, life OR the afterlife”.

    Isn’t it interesting that we know, in some way, that everyone has probably been thinking similar thoughts as they discover themselves past the halfway mark, but hopefully, not ready to throw in the towel; however, knowing that from here on, every day above the ground is a blessing.

    My own reflections include recognizing that, while I’ve always been introverted, I seem to be becoming even more that way, and I’m really okay with that. I much prefer the company and conversation of one or two people, if I want company and conversation at all.

    My biggest concern is that, while I’m currently employed part-time, I hope to be able to land a full-time job in education for the next nine or ten years … but are potential employers looking at me as being too old?

    Anyway, many blessings to you on this special occasion. Keep those blogs coming … you have always been thought-provoking. Age is just a number. My BFF Vann always says, “how old would you be if you didn’t know how old you were?”


    • georgialee412 says:

      Dear Ken:
      Thanks so much for your comments and for reading this. Maybe one of the reasons we were such good friends is that we’re both introverted, and I too,
      find myself more comfortable with one or two close friends than a gang of them. I’ve always felt that way.
      Don’t worry about the job and age. I once heard “It performance that matters – if you’re a rock star at what you do, age doesn’t matter. If I didn’t know how old I was I’d say a different age on every day. Which is complicated. My favorite Emerson quote is “My moods don’t believe in each other”
      Yes, April is the cruelest month, regarding that “Unpleasantness,” you mention, we can still come up with our Olympic skating motif costumes!


  2. Jimmy says:

    Introverted? I think not!


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