The older I get, the more excited I am about my birthday. It's like I hit a point in my mid-twenties when they really didn't matter and now I'm on the upswing. It's odd but true.
I turn thirty-three on Sunday and was very excited about my birthday weekend. Other than dinner at my favorite sushi restaurant, Akashi, on Saturday night and mimosas on Sunday morning, we didn't really have any plans but it was still going to be fun. I mean - hello - it's a birthday! It has to be fun!
Ahem, not true. Notice the use of the work "was". Birthdays don't have to be fun. Not if you find that you're probably going to spend it alone-ish. Jake has to go home for his aunt's funeral on Friday and isn't sure when he'll be back. Maybe Sunday some time. Maybe. I know that makes me sound like a complete greedy bitch but she lived to be eighty-nine and had full mental capabilities...that's pretty good and I'm sure she'd agree.
It's my birthday so I'm allowed to be a little sad and selfish on my very own blog. And I also feel pretty bad about feeling this way so it evens out.
I already knew my parents were going camping this weekend but I called my mom and asked, "Can I be sad for a minute?" and told her the news. I wanted someone to be sad with me, dammit. She told me they're getting home around noon on Sunday in order to go to the German picnic and asked me to go with them so at least that's something.
You know, part of me wants to either throw myself a little pity party or just forget that it's even my birthday this weekend...postpone it for two weeks or something (we're going to London, Ontario for a wedding the following weekend). But writing this has kind of made me realize that it doesn't have to be that way. I guess there's no reason why I can't celebrate my birthday by myself as sad as that sounds. I could call Wendy (we met for drinks last Thursday and had a good time) and we could go out...but going dancing and drinking just isn't my bag any more. But there's no reason why I can't get take out on Saturday night and watch a marathon of Emily's Favorite Movies (something with Alan Rickman in it like that new movie, Perfume, Sliding Doors and maybe Harold & Maude for irony's sake). There no reason why I can't mix up a batch of mimosas, throw them in a thermos and lay by the pool reading the new issue of Glamour Sunday morning (I was so happy to see Mariska Hartigay on the cover)...other than the thought of it just makes me sad.
I've spent enough time being sad and sorry for myself today, though. Time to grab a Trader Joe's Lime Floe (my newest favorite summer treat) and sit down to watch The Rage in Placid Lake. Woo-hoo.
/end pity party
Dude! You could come spend your birthday here... I'll make you cake!
Which reminds me, I have to send you an email. Week from hell, yo. FROM HELL.
Posted by: Elizabeth | 08/07/2007 at 05:23 AM
Dude! If only I had not accrued debt, I would fly out there in a heart beat.
We'll have to settle for mail and e-mail.
Hhh.
Happy birthday week! Technically, weeks, because you get to celebrate before and after the day, totally, in my opinion.
Posted by: Delly Bean | 08/07/2007 at 07:36 AM