Happy happy birthday. We're so glad you came.

I love birthdays. Love them. All birthdays – family, friends, coworkers. But especially MY BIRTHDAY. Which is today. When I was little, we celebrated my birthDAY. As I got older, it stretched into birthday WEEK. Now, BIRTHDAY MONTH. That’s what I’m talkin’ about. Birthdays were always a big deal when I was growing up. We always had a party, even if it was just with the family. Ice cream pie, lots of presents, the house covered in Happy Birthday banners. It’s my mom’s fault that I make such a big deal out of my birthday now. I throw myself a party just so I’ll have one. Cake and ice cream are always involved. And I always get that giant covered-in-magazine-clippings-and-marker box from my family. I love that box. My aunt Susan and Uncle Charles had a pool in their backyard. Since my birthday is in August, I had many pool parties at their house. Pool parties are the best – hanging out in the water, having handstand and front flip contests, seeing who can hold their breath the longest. Getting out just to eat cake and open presents, and spending the rest of the day in the water. I changed my mind – that’s what I would do all day every day if I didn’t have to work. When I turned 10, I had what could be called the greatest birthday of all time. I had a big fat slumber party. At my parents’ house, the garage is sealed up and turned into a room. This was done about 30 years ago, so the room has shag carpeting, a bar, and mirrors along one wall. At one time, it also had two pool tables, a drum set, multiple guitars and microphones and a stereo. This room became Stage Central. My dad set up the video camera on the tripod, and we went to town. That video is one of my most prized possessions. Me and my ten best friends, taking turns dancing and lip-synching to Paula Abdul, Milli Vanilli, New Kids on the Block. There is an especially shameful moment, where I, in my palm tree shirt (pulled into a t-shirt tie), lime green shorts, hot pink socks and white keds, perform a solo dance to Forever Your Girl. I am not a dancer. I’m surprised Aaron still married me after seeing that video, and my French-braided giant-bowed self. On my 18th birthday, one of my all-time birthday dreams came true. My boyfriend at the time, Josh, came to my house in the middle of the day. I was there alone, because my family had gone to my grandma’s house to help her with something. I wasn’t expecting him, so he caught me off-guard. He blindfolded me and we got in his truck. We drove around for a while and then into what seemed like some kind of field. He parked and got me out of the car and we walked for a while. Then he took the blindfold off and it was a SURPRISE PARTY! All of my friends were there, my entire family, everyone. It was fabulous. I always wanted someone to go to a lot of trouble for me for my birthday, and he did it. It was also fabulous because that was the summer before we all went to college, so it was great to have that one big memory with everyone there. The relationship didn’t last, but that memory always will. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve found that birthdays become a bit disappointing. I think it’s partially because they were always because they were such a big deal growing up, and when you don’t live with your parents you’re kind of responsible for your own big deals. I always build them up in the weeks preceding, imagining all of the things people are planning for me. Then the night before, I realize that’s probably not going to happen and I get sad that it’s almost over. I used to do the same thing at Christmas… I love the season, and then Christmas Eve I get sad because it will all be over soon. Maybe I’m not living in the moment. So, happy birthday to me. It’s my quarter-century mark. I feel so old.