“Birthdays are good for you. Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest. ” ~Larry Lorenzoni
Surprisingly enough I love birthdays, not just my own, but everyone’s. I like that it’s the one day a year where one is treated like he or she is special. It’s not like Christmas where everyone and their Christian brother is celebrating that day. No your birthday is just for you.
I’ve had the pleasure of having some very nice birthdays and lovely gifts bestowed upon me.
For my 16th birthday, my aunts and mother, took me to Chicago. To not only visit the University of Chicago (at the time my first choice school) but also to see Oprah. Seriously, Oprah for my 16th birthday. And a suite on Michigan avenue. And shopping, oh the shopping.
Every year, one of my aunts sends me flowers. For my 21st birthday she called and asked for my work address. I told her to have the flowers sent soon because I’d be leaving early. But there were no flowers. Just a lovely blue box with a lovely new platinum diamond bracelet (for the record, I’m severely allergic to silver so all I can wear is gold or platinum). It was truly lovely and a wonderful surprise.
I’ve also had the requisite terrible birthdays. Like my 13th birthday, when I had a sleepover and invited two friends who had grown to completely despise each other. I had been friends with these girls for years and they had been friends prior to meeting me. But one of these two girls hated the other so much that she covered her pillow in cat hair. My friend Mo, is deathly allergic to cats. So you can see that it was a problem. Yup, birthday party ruined. And we still talk about that birthday to this day.
I have no comments about turning 22. Nothing eventful will happen this year, it’s not a big birthday. Last year, it was nice to be able to use my real ID and not fear being arrested and/or having my ID taken away. Tonight I will spend with my most very favorite people. And one of my favorite DC bars.
I will attempt to not throw up on the middle of F Street and to not have the spins when I attempt to finally pass out. I’ve already been told “I’m gonna get you FUCKED UP tonight”
It’ll be a good birthday and I will even allow myself to be optimistic and say a possibly good year.
17 Comments
Happy birthday!! Here’s hoping you don’t throw up
21st b-days are cool. even 22nd b-days work.
it’s when they start becoming 5th annual 21st birthday, 6th annual 21st birthday, and so on that they become a problem.
I cried when I turned 22. Like. A. Baby. Bawled. Sobbed, even. My mom called to tell me happy birthday and I couldn’t even talk to her.
It wasn’t that bad, though. Looking back on it, I don’t know why anyone didn’t smack the hell out of me.
Happy birthday! Try and keep everything down!
http://mabelsmuse.typepad.com/
Happy Birthday lady!!!
After 21, the next fun is 25 when you can rent a car for cheaper, and then that’s about it till you’re ‘over the hill’.
Have a great time tonight!!
gah.. thanks, Sharkie, I’m turning 25 next month.
Happy Birthday, Heather.
Happy, HAPPY birthday, Heather!
Always remember I’m more than nine years older than you are, and I’m no wizened, crabby hermit. Plenty of good times to come.
Thanks guys!!
Seriously I’m hoping I don’t throw up tonight. My mother has already warned me to be careful and that she doesn’t want to see pictures like those of last year.
I also know that I do have many years of fun ahead (thanks Kathryn).
Happy B-day!
An important tip for trying to sleep with the spins: get into bed and put one hand on your headboard or the wall and one foot on the ground or your bedframe. Something stable on both ends. This will make the earth stop turning.
Huge thanks to my grandfather (!!) for teaching me this when I went off to college. I still use it. Oh yeah, happy b-day!
Megarita-THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for that wonderful advice. I’ve been looking for someone to tell me what to do when that happens. Seriously, thanks!
Once I got to 45, I decided enough was enough and now celebrate “annual 45ths”. I’m on my fifth one, which sure beats turning 50, let me tell ya!
Happy birthday!
So, if you wear the “fuck me” boots enroute to getting seriously fucked up, will you be able to walk tomorrow?
Hope you have a fab evening!
Happy birthday. And for the record, 22 is nothing. Have a good one.
love your blog.
ur lucky ur not in grad school though
that fucked
hope you got properly drizzunk!
happy birthday! they all seem to run together at this point-i think i just need some new boot eh?