Happy Birthday to Me

Today I am 35 years old. I celebrated by going to a historic hotel and brunching with 12 friends. I'm glad we had that planned. I'm not good about making decisions on my birthday.

I think this stems from the long history of bad omens that occurred on this day. On the morning of my 3rd birthday as we were sitting down to Sunday brunch a stranger came to the door. He knocked and apologized for hitting our cat. That wasn't the last pet to expire on April 15th. There were many. In addition to pets dying I've had a number of disappointments related to the people that should have be celebrating with me. So I've gotten into the habit of setting my sites low and expecting the worst. Needless to say, I'm not one of those that gets excited when my day draws near; quite the opposite, I'm usually grumpy.

It's interesting to me to see the differences in people when they react to their own birthdays. Some people, like myself, are reluctant to celebrate. Others draw up a gift list weeks in advance and start their own countdown for their friends. As I ponder the paradigm difference between these two birthday orientations I have to question if this is an indicator of personality type or related to a certain demographic.

Anyhow, I ate good food with good friends and I took a photo walk through the neighborhood with my fiance. I made a wish today when I blew out the candle but really, I have the most important things covered: a partner who supports me and encourages me to grow, a group of friends who love me and remind me why I'm special, a comfortable house complete with a warm bed and soft pillows.

35 feels good.