A middle age birthday

My first birthday since being hit by a bus… The theme was Undead, celebrating life and unstoppableness in the face of the clumsy machinery of the state and corporations… Hosted at my Best Friend’s big suburban house and backyard, it was the mid-week party success story of the year! Sure, I was at least twenty years older than almost everyone there, but it’s not my fault most of my generation are conformists who are not only gender but age normative, giving up on dancing and all-night partying before they’re “old” and thirty. And fuck it, if you voted for Murder (ie the half-million people murdered by Australia’s illegal, immoral, deceitful and profit-driven invasion of Iraq), and most of you my age DID, I don’t want you at my party. And I and others have been trying to raise your environmental awareness for the last thirty years, but you think hoarding your precious dollars is more important than your great grandchildren having something to breath next century. “You are the generation that bought more shoes and you get what you deserve.”

Anyway, back to the middle-aged hippy queen and her Undead celebration: There were a few different groups of friends of mine that had not met each other previously, and it was nice to see this cross-fertilisation, aided by the Tequilla Dawns of the Undead I was serving (Tequilla Sunrise with messier Grenadine) from a bucket, and the fire in the brazier lent by my favourite Newtown household.

I thought it was winding up after midnight (this being a Wednesday), but I slowly realized that everyone was just enjoying each other’s company too much to leave, and we sat around the fire until 4AM, when some went home, and others crashed in the lounge, apart from the boy that Best Friend was taking to bed, God bless him!

And we then roused ariubd midday for pancakes! The mid-week party that would not stop!

The party was so good that I was invited by a guest to THEIR birthday party on Friday, so my birthday celebration extended a few days, and OOPS fell over dancing drunk on wet floor with smooth rubber soles, and copped a deep blow on the other side of my chest to where the bus had bit me. So, I’ve been feeling my heart beating for the last few weeks, but it’s just a rib injury, and like everything else, I’ll heal from it, and I’m still dancing uncontrollably!

Hey, if you don’t want to grow old, don’t act old.

On the radio today, a man talked about using his child’s microscope to investigate some photolithography, and I realized, people without children don’t have learning tools anymore. Stop learning like a child, and your brain will soon conform to the low expectations of senility.

I’m still in a society largely controlled by my complacently ignorant generation and their ancestors, but they have less and less power, cos they can’t move much (cos they haven’t moved much, not since they got the landrover), and the future belongs to the young and active and challenging and those committed to life and joy and creativity, not to those just committed to their own personal comfort or desire for approval.

A woman working in a bank tried to make me feel bad for having no financial assets when I was 27. Almost twenty years later, I still got no financial assets, but I have a body made for dancing and boomsen, and friends I can really count on, and a whole crowd of autonomous anarchists to enjoy great company and iconoclastic shennanigins with.

Life LIVES!