So Saturday was my birthday.
And unlike many, most, every year in recent memory, I actually admitted that it was. Say what? For real? Speak truth? I've run out of two-word sound bytes?
Normally, I hide it and myself from the light on that day, like sunlight is the best disinfectant and I am a petri dish jam-packed with infectants. But with a new administration on its way, it seemed time to usher out the old strategery and rush in some change I can believe in as part of an attempt to be a tad more engaging.
Facebook was willing to oblige, and so I changed my profile info and got some sweet birthday wishes. Admittedly, I still cringed a little in the spotlight (even if it's that's really dim facebook-wall spotlight) which is why I've kept the birthday a secret before - way too celebratory for my taste.
But let me take this opportunity to issue some minor clarifications:
1. I don't hate birthdays (and therefore don't hate "babies who are born on days of the week because all babies have birthdays" - as I was actually accused of once): I'd celebrate yours in a heartbeat, but I'm good just playing it cool (hence this post's title rather than something like "Birthday Blues").
2. I don't mind getting older: "Old age is not so bad when you consider the alternatives."
3. I don't worry that all this time celebrating me could be better spent volunteering for the Peace Corp or something wonderfully service-oriented for those who need.
4. I just prefer the fussiness directed at me to be in witty and/or whimsical rhetorical flourishes rather than confetti, shiny wrapping and cakes (though I will eat your cake if you so provide and I will eat it belatedly if you didn't know my birthday was coming).
So, thank you: again, to everyone who said, whispered, wrote, posted, voicemail-recorded, or card-signed "happy birthday."
And, remember that a lot of really great things have happened on November 8ths (Wikipedia informs me that the French Revolutionary government opened the Louvre to the public as a museum on the 8th). And a lot of really remarkable people were also born on November 8: people like Bonnie Raitt and Minnie Ripperton and Katharine Hepburn and Alfre Woodard...
So here's hoping that if I play my cards right, one day I can be opened as a museum (wait, that's gross). Maybe I'll just shoot for a karaoke rendition of "I Can't Make You Love Me." I'll aim for the moon, and if I miss, I'll devolve into an imitation of Tara Reid (also born on November 8).
6 comments:
In other birthday music news, I thought you might actually find this interesting: http://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1111624
Happy birthday!!
@katie: That would all be resolved if everyone switched to "Lisa, It's Your Birthday" and inserted the appropriate name.
@la: thank you, thank you (for reading and for the wish)
Same sentiments. I'm still not ready to step into that "dim facebook wall spotlight." Your photo of Marilyn Monroe made me think you shared the birthday so I had to look it up.
And on a random note, you really like colons in your writing.
I dread the day in February that I have to see my desk at work covered in confetti and streamers. It's a nice gesture.. but really?
Happy birthday :)
@il: i probably should've hired a fact-checker for the Marilyn pic. but i'm glad you read it as her sharing my birthday rather than me being caught up in a love triangle with the President. and i'll look into that colon thing ; )
@pretty lush: thank you for the wish. and you're right - it's so the balance between appreciation and that dread. this year i tried turning up the appreciation and muting the dread. and i didn't look up and find myself in the fetal position. one step at a time...
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