It was my birthday this week, clocking up thirty four free trips around the sun since my Earth debut.
A few years ago, I opted for a “memories not merchandise” policy. I tend to give physical things to charity shops from lack of use or lack of space. This year, my present to myself was seeing Professor Brian Cox talk about the wonder of the universe at the Symphony Hall in Birmingham. Listening to people talk about their passions is a gift. You can see the delight, and I wish for everyone to do what lights them up inside. But seeing someone fanboy over the origin of the universe and if we really exist wasn’t the personal highlight. There was a social media Q&A session over the interval #briancoxlive and someone said, “Can you wish [Temple] a happy birthday, please?” I spent a good portion of the second half contemplating the odds of two people sharing a name, sharing a birthday, and ending up at the same event on this pale blue dot. But, like inflation theory not being invented for explaining the origin of existence but it fitting perfectly, I simply appreciated that the universe got Professor Brian Cox to wish me a happy birthday by proxy.
It wasn’t the only unexpected delight this year. I had a routine eye test the day before. In my family, one parent had an eye removed due to cancer, and ultimately it killed them. My other parent has needed glasses since they were six. My eye test showed an improvement in my vision. It took longer than normal, as it’s rare for eyesight to improve when there is no specific condition beyond ageing. The optometrist couldn’t believe it. I overcame my family pattern. Genetic lesson learned.
My cat also let me have a lie in, which is always appreciated. She lay on my chest at 8am and purred loudly, while my alarm played Better Than TV by Neil Finn.
There was a beautiful wide rainbow while I was waiting for the bus, which terminated on Dudley Castle.
My fiction muse came back, in the form of X-Files fanfic. It’s on here and Tumblr (templedragon).
I belatedly realised 1013 continues to pervade my life. The X-Files aside, it’s Kevin Clifton’s birthday. Mr Clifton is a professional dancer currently on Strictly Come Dancing. He’s seven days older than I am, and sometimes I wonder what my life would have been if my health had been different. Dancing was a huge part of my life when I was young. Essentially, I stopped dancing because a family paedophile took my body confidence away, so I found the X-Files, and I stopped the X-Files when my CFS/ME gave me debilitating fatigue. I started belly dancing when I could afford that many energy tablets (2011), and now the X-Files has come back. Dancing, then fiction, tied together by 1013.
I’m very late to the party that my birthday can fall in Asexual Awareness Week. In case you weren’t aware, I identify as both aromantic and asexual. Ask me questions, or pop over to the AVEN site to read about other people’s experiences and perspectives.
This week will culminate with me photographing my best friend’s wedding. Nine years ago, when we agreed to meet up at the Blackpool Illumination Switch On with David Tennant, little did we know all the crazy things we would do and where we would be now. We met because of Doctor Who, but naturally we are both hard core X-Files fans. My new year always starts on my birthday, but Celtic New Year starts on the new moon closest to Halloween, which is my friend’s wedding. I’m going to be capturing the start of her new life with her husband to be on a day that is already special because of our Celtic beliefs.