Today is my birthday and for the last few days leading up to it, I've been thinking about prior, memorable for various reasons, birthdays. I've never been good at celebrating them. Its has been my experience that I expect too much out of people, and generally end up disappointed. Hence, birthdays have never really been my thing.
When I was a kid my parents had to force me to participate in my own party, every year. There's an infamous picture of my from my 5th birthday where I'm crying while blowing out the candles.
On my 7th birthday I hid in a tree in my front yard while my friends, that my mom invited, were inside playing. After finding me, my dad made me come inside and open up gifts, and I spent the rest of the day wearing my bitchface.
On my 13th birthday it was raining. I walked home from the bus stop listening to The Counting Crows on my Walkman, and when I walked in the house was completely dark and no one was home. My older sister had a baby the day before, so my family was at the hospital with her. A random friend of our family dropped by that evening with a birthday cake for me.
At the time of my 21st birthday I was living with my ex-husband (not my ex-husband then, definitely my ex-husband now.) We had plans to go out for dinner and drinks to celebrate my birthday. While I was in the shower he went out for a bag of weed and didn't come home until the next day. I ate Taco Bueno for dinner, alone.
On my 25 birthday I was going through a divorce from the aforementioned husband, and I was living alone for the first time. My friends took me out, and we ran into a guy I was dating... and his girlfriend. I proceed to get embarrassingly drunk, and I threw up in my friends car at the end of the nite.
My 27th birthday was my favorite. I was 9 months pregnant, and I had no plans, other than to have dinner with Bryan. I talked to my brother on the phone several times that day, nothing out of the ordinary for us, and at one point I let him go so I could shower. My phone was ringing when I got out, and it was my brother again, asking me if I was out of the shower and dressed. "What the fuck kind of question is that? Of course I'm dressed, I wouldn't talk to you while I'm naked" I replied, at which time I heard my doorbell ringing, and I told him I needed to go because there was someone at my door, and I was in fact, not dressed. I quickly threw some clothes on and answered the door, and it was my brother. He drove 3 hours to have dinner with me on my birthday.
This year I was kind of expecting my shitty birthday trend to continue, but I woke up to an email from a company I interviewed with last week. They offered me a job. Not just any job though, my dream job.
So instead of being a pessimist all day, I'm going to get in a workout at the gym, and a barre class too. And then I'm going to buy something nice because god dammit I am proud of myself. This just might be my year after all.