people always talk about birthdays like they're some fabulous event, but you were already born. hoorah! the passing of another year, this whole "happy birthday!" thing is like a congratulations for not being dead yet. but what's the point? i hate being reminded that my birthday is approaching, and i equally hate talking about it. it sets up this heightened expectation for the day, as if things are supposed to be better on that one day - the sun will shine brighter, you will feel lighter, happier, etc - but the truth is, it's just like any other day of the year. all it does is set you up for disappointment. don't get me wrong, i appreciate the well-wishes and all, but it all feels so obligatory, contrived and non-genuine.
i escaped this year to washingtonDC to see amyT because i really needed to get away from philly, and because i honestly don't know when the next opportunity will arise for us to meet up. between walking the monuments, munching on delicious appetizers and drinking mojitos/sangria/beer at chef geoff and smoking gauloises we exchanged stories, caught up and reveled in our shared misanthropy and neurosis. it felt good to reconnect with the one person in this world that really, honestly and truly gets me. sometimes i think we are fundamentally the same person expressed into two distinct personalities through our vastly different experiences and choices in life.
so, i guess it was a good birthday in the end, but i'd much rather just think of it as just a good day.
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