Happy Birthday?

The guy that did my back tattoo called me some weeks back and invited me to a birthday party tonight. He’s turning 35, a few friends of his (including me) are having birthdays in the next week and 1/2 and he decided to get a room @ the Cherokee Casino hotel and have a poker party. He cordially invites me so of course I attend. I take some beers, some shot glasses, and some poker chips and head up there at about 9:00.

We get there and some folks are already there. We had this two-room suite that must’ve cost a pretty penny. I think I heard him say it was comped, which would be nice. The master room had some pretty deep smoking going on and the secondary room had not yet really taken shape. Several of us were hungry so we went down to McGill’s (casino eatery, very nice) to eat. The host also had a $100 comp ticket for the meal, so four of us ate and I ended up paying $10 for one of the best ribeye steaks I’ve ever had. We adjourn back to the room.

I play a few rounds of cards…as I didn’t have much cash, I didn’t play that long. After finished, I stood around awhile and sat awhile before finally heading home. Got in just a few minutes ago.

As I sat there, listening to the 20 or so people talk around me in groups, I realized that I did not have any stories to tell. Everyone had moved into their little cliques and were having a good time. I looked around and was the only one just sitting around. I’m very quiet normally, and I didn’t say much. No one reached out to me, but maybe that’s because I didn’t reach out to anyone myself. In either case, I just got my jacket and headed out.

I doubt they noticed. No great loss.

The drive home was rather dreary. I’ve realized quite recently that I don’t quite know who I am or what I’ve molded myself into. My wife has helped me see that a lot of my foundations are built on sand and not stone as I’ve believed for so long.

I don’t have fun like other people do. And I don’t know what to do about that.

(note: I hate to think my blog has become some morose woe-is-me trip down emo lane. I just haven’t felt well lately.)

About rhysfunk

Rhys Martin was born in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1981. In 2009, he sold everything he owned and left the country, living out of a backpack for ten months. He discovered a passion for photography while traveling throughout Southeast Asia and Europe. After returning home, he looked at his home town and Oklahoma heritage with fresh eyes. When he began to explore his home state, Rhys turned his attention to historic Route 66. As he became familiar with the iconic highway, he began to truly appreciate Oklahoma’s place along the Mother Road. He has traveled all 2,400 miles of Route 66, from Chicago to Los Angeles. He has also driven many miles on rural Oklahoma highways to explore the fading Main Streets of our small towns. Rhys has a desire to find and share the unique qualities of the Sooner State with the rest of the world. Cloudless Lens Photography has been featured in several publications including This Land, Route 66 Magazine, Nimrod Journal, Inbound Asia Magazine, The Oklahoman, and the Tulsa World. Rhys loves to connect with people and share his experiences; ask him about enjoyable day trips from Tulsa, locations along Route 66, and good diners or burger joints along the way.
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2 Responses to Happy Birthday?

  1. Eagle says:

    what was built on sand? nosey dudes want to know.

  2. DeAnne says:

    Still people think there life has to be built around some commercialized version of fun. I don’t buy it! Many of the things that some consider fun I do not – ie loud smoky parties rehashing the same dtories of people being stupid or drunk. Fine once in awhile but not really my thing.

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