Guess who has a birthday coming up? Go on, guess.
When I was little, birthday parties were a thing, filled with a lot friends, too many sweets, punch, and shiny, strangely shaped packages.
The older I’ve gotten, it seems well, a little weird to me to have a day dedicated solely to your own existence. I was just about to turn 13 when I told my mother I didn’t want a party. The idea was discomfiting, part the beginning of teenage angst, part recognition that I was still the new kid in town and….I really didn’t want to engage in the effort of inviting people to a party.
So began my general dissociation with parties. I still recognize my birthday….mostly as a mark on the calendar, another life milestone passed. Honestly, I think I’d forget it all together sometimes if my mother didn’t bring it up during one of our phone calls.
For this week of my birthday, I’m listening to a mish-mash of music that speaks to coming of age and figuring out where the hell you’re going.