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Good evening...the reports of my demise are greatly exaggerated. Let's not quibble over where I've been or what's happened since October. Let's just pick up where we left off, shall we?
So...I turned 33 last week. Don't everyone get up at once :-) And stop tutting at me and shaking your head. I’m fine with this. No…seriously, I am fine with this! Sadly, I think I’m a freak of nature for thinking so.
I like my birthday – sue me. Someone in the office asked me if my mentioning my birthday was a product of being neglected by my family. Of course, she was also probably insinuating some sort of egotism on my part. All of which I flatly deny.
Birthdays are a celebration of life. It’s your own personal holiday that belongs to just you! I try to celebrate and make everyone’s birthday as important as my own. On that one day a year you are kind of a big deal. To me, “Because it’s my birthday,” it’s a perfectly good answer (if it is indeed your birthday). Since when did birthdays become a somber or “keep it to yourself” occasion? That, my friends…is some freaky B.S. to the nth degree. It’s your party, celebrate if you want to!
Call this philosophy a consequence of my “just deal with it” mentality. I’ve never been raised to think that each passing year is a shortening of time. I’m as happy turning 33 as I was when I turned 12, 19, 27 or whatever. I’ve been waiting every day since turning 30 for the death sentence feel to kick in (Yes, just like I keep waiting for the need to conceive to kick in). But so far, no dice. Until these feelings creep up on me, I’ll have you know I’ve decided to just have a kick ass life.
However, it kills me that with each birthday, the number of Birthday Cheers decrease and the need to bitch about how miserable the ages you’re going to be increases. Then the funk sets in. For example, upon learning it was my birthday, one acquaintance moaned, “Gosh, aren’t you just dreading turning 35?” This acquaintance is currently a year older than I am.
Arrrgh…IT’S A NUMBER PEOPLE! Today’s youth doesn’t corner the market on life. In fact, according to George Bernard Shaw, “Youth is wasted on the young.” And let me tell you from experience, I wholeheartedly agree.
In my 20’s, I had no money, couldn’t do anything, should have known better/thought I knew everything, and worried about what other people thought about me. In my 30’s, I now have more money, can do pretty much what I want, know that I will never know everything, and can tell people (in a polite way) to take me or leave me. Today, I feel more powerful in everything I learn and can embrace who I am.
And I can’t do any of that without getting older.
So...I turned 33 last week. Don't everyone get up at once :-) And stop tutting at me and shaking your head. I’m fine with this. No…seriously, I am fine with this! Sadly, I think I’m a freak of nature for thinking so.
I like my birthday – sue me. Someone in the office asked me if my mentioning my birthday was a product of being neglected by my family. Of course, she was also probably insinuating some sort of egotism on my part. All of which I flatly deny.
Birthdays are a celebration of life. It’s your own personal holiday that belongs to just you! I try to celebrate and make everyone’s birthday as important as my own. On that one day a year you are kind of a big deal. To me, “Because it’s my birthday,” it’s a perfectly good answer (if it is indeed your birthday). Since when did birthdays become a somber or “keep it to yourself” occasion? That, my friends…is some freaky B.S. to the nth degree. It’s your party, celebrate if you want to!
Call this philosophy a consequence of my “just deal with it” mentality. I’ve never been raised to think that each passing year is a shortening of time. I’m as happy turning 33 as I was when I turned 12, 19, 27 or whatever. I’ve been waiting every day since turning 30 for the death sentence feel to kick in (Yes, just like I keep waiting for the need to conceive to kick in). But so far, no dice. Until these feelings creep up on me, I’ll have you know I’ve decided to just have a kick ass life.
However, it kills me that with each birthday, the number of Birthday Cheers decrease and the need to bitch about how miserable the ages you’re going to be increases. Then the funk sets in. For example, upon learning it was my birthday, one acquaintance moaned, “Gosh, aren’t you just dreading turning 35?” This acquaintance is currently a year older than I am.
Arrrgh…IT’S A NUMBER PEOPLE! Today’s youth doesn’t corner the market on life. In fact, according to George Bernard Shaw, “Youth is wasted on the young.” And let me tell you from experience, I wholeheartedly agree.
In my 20’s, I had no money, couldn’t do anything, should have known better/thought I knew everything, and worried about what other people thought about me. In my 30’s, I now have more money, can do pretty much what I want, know that I will never know everything, and can tell people (in a polite way) to take me or leave me. Today, I feel more powerful in everything I learn and can embrace who I am.
And I can’t do any of that without getting older.
posted by Kimberly at
3:53 PM
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