so, my birthday is in approximately 10 days. i have the honor of being born on the same day as Martin Luther King, Jr. i take pleasure in telling people that they are getting a day off of work/school thanks to me and my main man MLK. it’s a joke we share.
so, i don’t want to do it anymore. i just think it should be an occasion where the people who love and know you best really want to celebrate and have a good time. now, there is just so much engineering and a lot less whimsy. i refuse to plan my own birthday party. isn’t that what friends are for? my mother friend’s used to throw her parties. it was effortless and beautiful.
|i feel you're pain|
but, the uncool thing about being born in January and a (somewhat) national holiday is that no one remembers! everyone is chillin on my birthday. i can’t tell you how many belated birthday wishes or birthmas gifts i have received, not to mention the half-hearted “i got you next year” affirmations.
it really sucks because, year after year, going to all of my friends and family’s birthday functions really twists the knife. my cousin, who had the good fortune of being born 5.5 months earlier than me, had really cool birthday parties. i’m talking pool parties, amusement park parties, parties where a ton of people show up because it’s July and it’s hot. no one has anything to do, but they are looking to do something fun because it’s summer vacation. my birthday, on the other hand, is in the coldest month of the year when everyone is in hibernation mode and doesn’t want to leave their house.
i’ve kinda come to terms with it though. usually my birthday was an excuse for my entire family to go out to eat at a place of my choosing, which is where i got my real love of restaurants. i’ve had a couple of sleepovers, one being a surprise. my best birthday was my 21st. not just because i was of age, but because about 25-30 of my closest friends and family went to a nice restaurant, i got really nice presents from my mother and ex-boyfriend, and i didn’t have to plan it or pay a dime.
but i guess i must have peaked at 21. every birthday since then has gotten progressively worse. one year, none of my friends showed at a birthday thrown in joint with a party promoter i went to high school with… my name was on the cake, but no one was there to really wish me happy birthday.
|my consolation cake|
this year i am turning 27. i’ve gotten into the habit of having dinner once a month with some colleagues. it just so happens that this month, the dinner happens on my birthday. but, i was hesitant to say anything because i didn’t want it to be a thing. well i did, and now it is. and, much to my displeasure, i was handed the task of picking the restaurant. and i don’t know what to do, toeing the line of keeping it causal but still special. picking a solid restaurant that won’t disappoint that i’ve never been to before. and, if it sucks, heretofore my birthday sucks.
i know it sounds like i am whining. i know i should get over it. i know i’m a grown ass woman, but it’s my birthday and i’ll cry if i want to.