30 is the new 20
Alright. The truth of the matter is I love my birthday. I like to make it a big deal. And 30 is HUGE! It is a milestone birthday. Usually, all my friends and family oblige and the world stops spinning on its axis for the day so that I may command all types of affection and attention. Surely at 30, it would not be unreasonable to expect the proportional birthday response for such an auspicious occasion...fireworks, a call from the President (which I would not take for obvious reasons), Ed McMahon presenting me with a present on prime time TV?
But I got married 3 months ago. And the world keeps turning. You can't really expect everyone to celebrate you after they just spent a year throwing all manner of shower/party/gifts/wedding/attention to all your petty little demands. So this year I told everyone not to make a big deal about my birthday. And I am fine with it, really...I mean, the door to my office is closed right now and I am crying, but that's nothing. I'm over it. Who cares?
Actually, as it turns out, no one cares. Truth be told, I really am sick of having everyone's attention and adoration (I know, maybe I am coming down with something, maybe marraige changes your very soul...). I did just want to celebrate quietly with my new husband. Make a memory, go to bed...you know. And damn if everyone didn't listen to me...I have not a single plan for tonight. Cue the violins....
I am neither kidding, trying to be modest or attempting to do that polite thing...I really have had my fill of the celebrate me party circuit. But is it too much to ask that my husband remember that it is my birthday?
I believe this morning was the official end of the wooing phase of our relationship. Sadly, he did not remember my birthday this morning, and I am sure you would guess that I left for work dejected, shocked and sad. I mean you would have to play the odds if you were the bettin' type. That's right, always bet on black...well not in this case honey...
Surprisingly, even to myself, I was neither shocked nor awed by his lack of birthday well wishes. First, in his defense, he has a horrible cold today. And much as I may like to read into his oversight (he doesn't love me, the romance is dead, or my personal favorite...he is taking me for granted) the fact of the matter is it slipped his mind. He loves me I am sure. He will realize the mistake and call any minute now and shower me with love and affection.
And then he will hastily pull something together, because as sure I am of the fact that he loves me, I am equally as sure of the fact that he has not given an ounce of energy over to attempting to plan ahead for the big day.
That's alright though...because: YEAHHHHHHHHHHH! I'M 30!!!!!!!!!! The lack of any response to my birthday is not enough to get me down! I will celebrate myself! (clearly, I can blame my lameness on old age at this point).