So, today is my birthday. A whopping 37. More specifically, 40 minus 3 years.
With this birthday more than any other, I cannot help but think of that scene in “When Harry Met Sally” where Meg Ryan is crying on her bed and Billy Crystal is trying to comfort her. When he asks her what’s wrong, she sobs: “I’m turning 40.” And he says: “When?” Her answer: “Someday.”
Well that “someday” for me is getting closer every year. Now it’s looming around the corner. I wish it would go away. But what can I do about it?
I can pretend it’s not coming. In fact, part of me would like to ignore this whole birthday thing. I mean, birthdays just aren’t the same anymore. Nothing beats birthdays when you were a kid. You would wake up and be soooooo excited for the day. It meant presents and pool parties and attention and lots of fun things. And when you got a little older, say 16, there were surprise parties and friends taking you out to lunch and whole days spent at the beach telling everyone it was your birthday. And then you turned 21, and there were drunken nights and dancing and you were the star of the show and boys wanted to buy you drinks, and, and……..
It’s all over now. No more of that. Now, it’s almost a regular day. Even if I wanted to do something fun during the day, who is there to do it with? My husband is working and all my girlfriends are either working or watching their kids. So it’s me, myself and I. A raging party.
Don’t go playing that pitty-fiddle for me yet. I am going out to dinner with some friends tonight. And I stuck the kids in daycare for the afternoon so I can go to a yoga class. So it’s not all bad. It just used to be so much better.
I figure I have two more hum-drum birthdays until my 40th. Then I’ll go big. I’ll go dancing and tell all the boys it’s my birthday…and have my husband buy me a drink.