Birthdays have always been a sore subject for me. I've never had disaster strike on my birthday, or had a truly terrible celebration other than when I was little and my Mom thought it would be fun for all birthday party attendees to wrap me in streamers.
I've just never been one to want to be the center of attention for a day. I don't like the songs that people insist on singing to me if they hear it's my birthday. I don't like the constant question of "How's it feeling to be a year older?" that's followed with the same answer of "The same as yesterday," every single year. And I really dislike the calls from people I never talk to anymore pretending like the one phone call a year makes us best friends.
But this year, I finally celebrated my way. I ignored the calls, and listened to the voice-mails the day after. I took the "day off" from my self-employment and settled in with a good book and chick flicks. And after my now-husband came home, we ordered Chinese food to be delivered and watched even more movies as we hung out on our couch in our pajamas.
No, it wasn't glamorous. And no, I didn't get free food or free drinks since I stayed home. And yes, parts of it felt like just another day with no special meaning behind it. But all of that was what made it special. There was no fuss and nothing that left me aching for the day to end.
Maybe next year I'll be daring and actually get dressed on my birthday, but if not? I wouldn't mind some more Chinese and another simple day. :]