It’s my birthday today!
Correction, by the time you read this, it will have been, gone, and went. Bye-bye, see you next time. Keep walking. Go on, a little further. Further. More. No, you’re still not far enough. Go another eight kilometres, turn left, and f**k right off.
Birthdays, they just keep coming and overstay their welcome. Sometimes they need a firm word or two before they get the message. It’s over, done, thanks for coming. Yes, we should do this more often, but we both know that won’t happen. Bye, have a good year.
Thank God that’s over with.
As I’m putting these words onto this page, I’m turning a year older. The sun rotated, the earth did its thing, and somehow I didn’t get flung off in the process. Thank you, gravity, I guess. Well done, and yes, I’m glad I’m not floating through the infinite beauty of space.
Do I sound enthusiastic? Are my words dripping with confetti? Balloons! You can’t forget the balloons, but we can forgo the clown. I’m not saying I hate them, but some people have a genuine phobia of these cooky critters. For their sake, I kindly ask that all clowns take a seat in the back. Also, I find you completely unnecessary.
Kind of like birthdays. Oo, nice segue. Very smooth and seamless. If you don’t compliment yourself every once in a while, who will?
I’m sure you will be surprised to hear this, but I’m not much of a birthday person. I’d prefer a quiet day to myself. If it didn’t happen at all? Yep, that would be perfect. I fail to see the necessity of such things. It’s just another day. A day like any other. The only difference between today and tomorrow? A few decades ago, I was born through no effort on my part.
I wasn’t, and then I was. Tada. It’s like magic. It kind of puts the rabbit in a hat trick to shame, eh?
If anyone deserves a day of celebration? It’s the people who grew, housed, and gave birth to us. Those people deserve balloons, a cake, and sure, if they’re so inclined, a face painted performer in a brightly coloured jumpsuit.
Well done, you pushed a person out of a tiny hole or had one slashed out of your abdomen like a sci-fi horror movie. That was your reward for nine months of feeding and growing an embryonic leach. Speaking of leaching! There were another eighteen years of feeding, housing, nurturing and, with some luck/skill, you unleash a decent person onto the world.
If birthdays have to be celebrated— I still don’t think it should be mandatory— perhaps we can blow a kazoo for the parental figures. The people who not only gave us life but helped us become who we are today. I don’t think it’s too presumptuous to say that you’re most likely an incredible person because someone showed you how it was done.
Happy birthday, in my humble opinion, should be said to the people who moulded us into the human’s we’ve become.
Unfortunately, no one else wants to change the tradition, so I’m taking this day as my own. I’m going to spend it under a blanket, pretending I don’t exist, and maybe I’ll order some food. Mm, take out and denial. Is it a little petty and bull-headed? You betcha, but it works for me.
A friend texted and asked me how my birthday was, and I responded, “It was a day. Just a day.” A Monday like any other Monday. It was, and then it wasn’t. Nice and simple. I didn’t get lost in the woods or washed away by the ocean (my literal dream scenarios), but it was exactly how I wanted it to be.
A day. Just another day. I’ve done a bit of writing, tried Korean fried chicken for the first time (yum), and let my curiosity get the better of me. Random questions popped into my head, and I looked up the answers. Huh, what’s my zodiac sign, and what does it mean?
Before I continue, let me just say, if you believe in these things? Brilliant, I’m happy you found something that gives you comfort. Life is absurd, it pulls us in a million directions and twists us into knots. If this helps you make sense of it all? You’re lucky to have something that does that for you.
Personally, I don’t believe in horoscopes or astrology. Wait, which ones which? I always say the wrong thing. No, that’s the right one. Astronomy is something different. Phew, I don’t want NASA coming after me. They get a little upset when you muddle them up.
And you don’t want to piss of NASA. Yikes.
I could be wrong, that’s always possible, but I don’t think stars determine my existence or dictate my personality. Other than looking pretty and twinkly? As well as important science things, probably. Tell my future, guide more fortune, and all of that? Nope, it’s not for me. It just feels a little too…I don’t know, but I’m curious.
Just because we don’t believe something doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn about it. Be curious about life, people, and different ways of living. It’s fun, and learning something new can’t hurt.
To that end: Activate typing fingers! Okay, random website: What are the characteristics of a Taurus? Stubborn. Yep, that one checks out. Good listener, dependable, and dedicated. Not to toot anything inappropriate, but that sounds like me. Values honesty. Well, who doesn’t?
I haven’t met anyone who says they love being lied to, and nothing’s more attractive than deception. Come on, I give that one a resounding, Doh!
A Taurus is graceful…Ha! Wrong, I can’t walk a straight line along a flat surface. The last time I tried, I fell down and broke my foot. I’m not kidding. I was casually strolling along, and then down I went. There was a crack, pop, and a few choice words. I had a devil of a time explaining that level of clumsiness to my doctor.
Let’s see, what else? A Taurus is bull-headed, set in their ways, not fond of authority, a perfectionist…Well, they gave it a good try. No one’s perfect. Told you this stuff wasn’t real. I can hear every member of my family laughing at me. Shut up, it’s not true. I’m only most of those things.
Fine, it describes me perfectly, minus the gracefulness thing.
It also says that the best career would be, “A hermit in the woods.” Okay, I’m laughing out loud. That’s pretty accurate. Especially on a day like today when the sun and earth finish rotating on the thingies, and science happens.
When it comes to birthdays, my bull-headedness comes out strong. It’s more than stubbornness. My head lowers, horns at the ready, and I charge the clown holding a red balloon. It’s best for everyone if I become that hermit in the woods for one day, just that day.
It’s not that I mind getting older. Age is a number, and numbers have no feelings. What does it feel like to be the age you are now? Does anyone really know? Do you feel different day after day? I don’t. I feel like me. I feel like myself. I’ve never been this old before, but that’s true every day.
Every morning when I open my eyes, I’m a new age. A day older, probably not a hell of a lot wiser, but not dumber than yesterday. Life is constantly changing, and so are our bodies. How do we respond, and how does it define us? How does it change us?
No one makes that decision for us, and we get to choose our own adventure. Go for a hike or stay home and watch a movie? Hang out with friends or become a hermit in the woods? This or that? One thing or another? Life is about choices, and we get a fresh start every day. I think that’s more exciting and intriguing than dumping it all onto a single day.
I’m not sure if it’s less pressure or more, but tomorrow will be a do-over. Did I make the right choices today? Perhaps they weren’t all the best, but I can try again and again. As Long as I’m limping across this planet, I can always make wiser decisions and be the person I want to be.
As for my birthday? Screw tradition!
Happy day of birth, Mom. You took good care of me when I was at my most vulnerable. You carried me longer than you should’ve (I was always a stubborn one), and you gave me this life. Thank you so much!
Happy day of birth to my Dad too. You’ve always protected me and given me a safe place to come home to. You looked out for me when my bull-headedness got me into strange predicaments.
This day belongs to both of you Happy birthday to you and not me… Please and thank-you.