So…my birthday just passed this Tuesday. I’m 21 now! I can drink. I can club. I can legally enjoy the music that I’ve listened to since middle school, because all of my favorite artists play in bars. When I was a kid, I used to think my birthday was September 18th, because my party would usually end up on the 18th for some reason. I still remember the day my mom shattered my reality and told me my birthday was really the 16th. I was so disappointed. Eighteen is just such a cooler number than sixteen. And c’mon, wouldn’t you rather share a birthday with Xzibit over Nick Jonas? Actually, there are some freaking awesome people on my list, I’ll keep it. Happy belated birthday B.B. King and Amy Poehler!
Anyways, I had quite a nice birthday. Nothing extravagant, I mean it did fall on a Tuesday this year after all. I had class in the afternoon, and I got to campus early to have some coffee and conversation with a friend, which is becoming a nice part of my new semester routine.
So we chilled with out lattes outside and chatted, and then went to class, where I discovered that I’m not as lost and helpless as I believed I was. In fact, I was further along than most by a smidgen. After class I had plans to meet up and study Japanese with a classmate. On my way too meet up with her, I get a call from a friend near hysterics for fear of failing this media class. So I invited her over to our break out room to get her project settled and assure her that she’ll make it through the class. She came by and my other friend and I both help her. I’m glad she could help too, because I was rendered useless with my phone ringing every time I put it back down. I guess I failed to mention to them that it was my birthday. It wasn’t pertinent to anything going on, so whatever.
When I was finally able to rejoin the group, they seemed almost offended that I didn’t tell them it was my birthday. They found it so shocking that I was so willing to give them my time. And people had been asking me all day why I even came to school. I’ve never understood that mindset. I mean, I guess I do, but I’ve never really applied it to myself. I don’t even make any declarations of my birthday, whoever knows, knows. Those who don’t, I’m not going to try and make you care. It’s just another Tuesday. Which is why I don’t get why it’s expected of me to use my birthday as an excuse to be a wad to everyone just because. Yes, I was born, and I do quite enjoy being alive for another trip around the sun, but what’s it to anybody? I’m not suddenly removed from society for 24 hours. The world keeps doing what it always does, with all it’s cultural customs and national laws.
I’m not saying all that to be depressing or to suck out the joy of birthday celebration. Much to the contrary, with that in mind, I’m incredibly appreciative of the wishes sent to me and the lengths my friends and family go to show that they care about me. September generally signifies the beginning of the school year. I’ve moved every few years since I started grade school. So by the time I made friends and reached that level of “hey, let’s do something for your birthday because we’re fwends now,” mine had long passed. It’s always been pretty low key for me.
But back to Tuesday. After helping my friends out with studying, or at least attempting to, I went to my Bible study group on campus that meets every week. When everyone got there, suddenly cake appears and everyone is singing happy birthday to me. I was not expecting that and it was the sweetest thing and the cake was tasty and I was happy. I really appreciated that. Come to think of it, my friends from church baked a little cake for me last year too, and I had just recently met them then.
Later that night, I headed down to dinner, which my uncle invited me to. I was just expecting him and his girlfriend. But we get to the restaurant and my grandmother, aunt, and a bunch of friends were there waiting. It was a Colombian/Cuban restaurant, and I swear that place made this one dish SPECIFICALLY FOR ME. It had steak, salad, rice, FRENCH FRIES, and eggs! Just all of my favorite foods, all on one plate. I was sooooooo excited. Twas amazing. The rice was cooked all perfect, with butter and just, yes. I really love rice. It’s a problem.
Then they sang to me. A Spanish rendition of happy birthday complete with maracas. Yeah, that was a thing that happened. But it was worth it when they handed me that tres leche cake. Which was amazing and so…hydrated. And of course, being now 21 and all, I had to consume some spirits. But I was with family, so I let them pick some drink for me, lest I order a shot of whiskey or something. So I had a pina colada. And it was an all around great night, I enjoyed seeing everyone that came through. And it was a lot of people.
It’s Friday now, and I have yet to cease celebrating my birthday. My best friend got me the best gifts and gave them to me yesterday! I am now the proud owner of Hyperbole and a Half THE BOOK, and the cutest owl mug. And considering I have family scattered all over the country and we all fail pathetically at punctual postage, I’ll more than likely be celebrating my birthday until Christmas.
So thanks for the birthday wishes and gifts everybody. I appreciate it and love you guys. It’s the weekend now, and it’s time to turn up! I’ll be in NYC, so yeah, fun times.