Tomorrow is my birthday. I won’t tell you how old I’m going to be, as I think that’s against the International Law of Women, and you don’t want to cross them. Suffice it to say that I will be under 30, at least for a little bit longer.
While I occasionally have feelings of “Oh my god, when did I get so old?” for the most part I still look forward to my birthday every year with a general feeling of glee. It’s probably a bit unseemly at my age, but I can’t control it.
After some point, it seems a bit silly to get excited about one’s birthday. I won’t suddenly gain the ability to do anything again until 55. I don’t even like cake.
Part of me thinks it may just be the euphoria I get swept up in every October. I love October, probably more than a month deserves to be loved. I love it a lot. Many of my favorite things happen in October.
Part of me thinks it’s because it’s a day where I’m allowed to bask in my own glory. (My very modest glory. Yeeees. Very modest.) I like hearing from my friends and family, some of whom I only get to talk to on my birthday.
Part of it is probably that I can have my friends do ridiculous things in honor of me. (A few years ago, we got a bit tipsy, dressed up in my costumes from my trove, and went bowling. It was epic.)
Whatever the reason, I still get a bit giddy when it’s this time of year. Maybe I’m just an overgrown kid, but it’s nice to feel loved.
Happy birthday! May epic find you every year!