My birthday is Sunday and make no mistake ---

I want presents.

 

I am what you might call a birthday whore.  Yes, I am and I'm not afraid to admit it.  I love birthdays, I love presents, and I love having a whole day all about me.  Selfish?  Childish?  Maybe.  I don't care.

 

See, growing up, birthdays were really no big deal.  There weren't parties or balloons or any of that.  Sure, there was a gift and we got to choose what kind of cake we wanted and what we'd have for dinner, but that was pretty much it.  I remember that, as a child, I only had 1 birthday party.  When I was 11.  And the party was my gift.  This is all fine and well and good - my parents did a wonderful job (hell, we're all still alive and there are days when that is my only goal as a mother, so I say my parents succeeded,) but needless to say, I always felt there was something missing from the birthday celebration.

 

As I got older, my friends started throwing me birthday parties, starting the year I turned 18 and did the Angel dance from Anything Goes in Daisy Dukes and platforms on the roof of my pal Joe's house and managed to somehow fall off the roof and still not quite spill my beer.  Or lose the thing I was smoking.  Whatever.  There were poker birthday parties, parties with 40s of Old E malt liquor and Pop Tarts, parties that spanned two groups of friends, 3 bars, and me deciding that I should probably just lay down and die rather than go to the concert that my boyfriend at the time spent tons of money for tickets on.  (I'm quite certain that was no where near grammatically correct.  Sue me.)

 

Then I became a mother and parties became more intimate and private affairs with my husband and my children and a few close friends.  But, still, there was celebration.  Cake.  Diamonds.  Friends.  Sushi.  Wine.  Gems.  Stones.  Massages.  You get the idea.

 

Last year was a biggie - the big 3-0.  Large 3 day celebration.  Perfect, ideal in every way.  This year?  Well, I have a stupid wedding to go to on Saturday (why oh why don't people realize that I want a full 3 day celebration for my birthday and they are just being so selfish to make plans during said time!?!?!?)  Sunday, just me and B with no kids.  Good enough.  And the annual Sushi-fest that DDFF and I enjoy every year (her bday is the 17th!)   Regardless, it'll be a good time.

 

Know how I know? 

Because I don't give anyone an excuse to forget.

 

I start campaigning for my birthday in late March.  Starting about 3 weeks before, I start making birthday countdown announcements.  I publish blog posts, leave messages, general PSAs.  I get the word out.  I do that because it's important to me.  I would be *crushed* if my birthday was just "any other day."  But I cannot expect to get what I expect unless I tell folks that I expect it, right?

So, Sunday is the big ol' celebration for me.  I wanna sleep in late, eat breakfast in bed (including a cured pork product of the organic ham, bacon, or sausage variety,) read the Sunday paper and drink coffee.  I want jewelry and tofu salad.  I want pictures and cake and phone calls from friends.  I want it all.  Yep.  ALL. 

 

Because

 

MY BIRTHDAY IS SUNDAY!!! 

 

I'm just saying ....