Happy Belated Birthday Post

My birthday was on the 11th and from the level of excitement I experienced leading up to it you would have thought I was turning 10 instead of 24.

I know I'm not quite at that age yet where people start hating their birthdays, but I am at the age where people begin to act like they're too old to get worked up about them. I do not understand this. Birthdays are the one day of the year when your friends and loved ones are expected to buy you things and pay attention to you. I do get why this can sometimes be depressing. Just because people are supposed to shower you with presents and baked goods does not mean they will and any minor slight or moment of forgetfulness gets magnified ten fold because this is your day goddammit.

Okay, so maybe most normal women only feel this way about their wedding. I don't care. You only get a few of those at most and as of right now I haven't decided if I'm even interested in having one. Right now I'm happy to welcome my birthday with the enthusiasm of a fifth grader because I like it when people have to pretend that I'm special and because I truly believe that on the 7th day, in addition to resting, God created cake.

Given my high expectations and my equally high potential for disappointment, this year's birthday was pretty great. That's not to say it was perfect. I definitely got a cold two days before my party and, in a state of panic that I wouldn't be able to taste all of the amazing birthday food my roommate made, took just about every over-the-counter medication available at Duane Read including ones that treated opposite symptoms. Apparently the result of simultaneously taking something that's supposed to decongest you by drying up your nose and something that's supposed to do the same thing by making it run is that you feel not-terrible, but you're kind of woozy and by midnight you completely lose your voice. It was sad and I spent most of the night attempting to play the role of adorable and witty hostess through a series of pathetic little croaks.

That said, I did eat enough vegetarian sushi to make me feel nauseous and none of my friends who hadn't met before got into fights with each other. This might not sound like the formula for a memorable celebration, however, when you consider that last year's festivities involved getting water dumped on me at a subway entrance in Chinatown and the guy I was seeing remembering to buy me a card but forgetting how to correctly spell my name, it's obvious why this was a rousing success.

Here's hoping that my next birthday will be just as great!