Tag Archives: Birthdays

A message to my bro, on his (AGE REDACTED) birthday;

Remember how mom used to make us celebrate our birthdays together on the 14th?


And how we totally hated it? When you put your foot down and declared enough of that – SEPARATE BIRTHDAYS, DAMN IT! – I was completely happy. I didn’t miss celebrating with you at all. Nope. Not one bit.


So, are you coming to visit again soon? Not like I care. Whatever. Have a happy birthday or something.

Your sister

I have to share something with you has absolutely nothing to do with travel. Not really, anyway. It’s a little narcissistic. I hope you won’t mind.

Ready? Here goes: It’s my birthday.

I know. I’m positively tickled. I love birthdays. Entire days dedicated to eating cake and wearing party dresses. It’s not unlike what I imagine heaven to be.

I suspect I might be in the minority here. I’ve met a lot of folks who absolutely abhor birthdays, and the inevitable aging that goes along with them, but that’s something I’ve never really minded. Every year I spend on this planet, things just seem to get better. After three decades, I’m really getting the swing of things. I now listen to NPR voluntarily, and not just because I’m trying to impress a boy. I’ve become quite adept at walking in heels. As the years go by, stinky cheeses taste better and better. And the Muppets now hold another level of humor that I never understood as a child (if you haven’t experienced this phenomenon for yourself, I highly recommend you rewatch The Muppets Take ManhattanThe puns! The double entendres! A cameo by a delightfully young and handsome Elliott Gould!) Plus, with adulthood, I’ve found I’ve almost grown into my nose. Not quite, but almost.

"You like my nose, right sweetie? RIIIIIGHT?"