Thoughts on the 33rd

33.
That number has always seemed to posses a magic, in my eyes.
Double threes.
Two Holy Trinities.

My 33rd birthday fast approaches, and this year so does the annual slight-birthday-depression. You know, those feelings that suddenly appear under the surface in a stealth- like manner. Subconsciously, all of the things I intended to do for myself since the last birthday, remain mostly unrealized and haunt me in a sing-song voice. "You are another year older and look at all you still haven't done.

FU sing-song voice.



In truth, the voice has only gotten louder, since entering my 30's. Which by the way, I am despite the distracting noises in my head, quite pleased to be in. Looking back to compare , I see myself in a newer light. As compared to my 23 year old self, I am so much more sure about who I am, what I want, and where I want to go. In my twenties, I was rushing through to meet "me" through cocktails, parties, and guys (for the record, way more cocktails and parties than guys). Using all of those things as a mirror to reflect back to me who I was, I was desperately trying to glean my identity in the reflection. I am no longer afraid to ask for what I want. To go where I want, and to declare who I am. I have in essence, gained a confidence of self that can only come from the experiences Life has given me. Bloody hellacious as they may have been, at times.

And age has been on my mind a lot lately. As I have become aware of the first ticking of my biological clock (tick tock), have had raging crushes on 20-somethings (and become super aware of the life experience gaps coupled with maturity differences Ahem. That Taylor Lautner poster on my bathroom door is a joke. I swear! But if he had an older brother.....), and suddenly have become hyper aware of the fact that in 5 years, I will be 38 (gasp!!!!)- the time seems to be flying by without much forward progress made.

Tick-tock.
Hurry up and buy!
Hurry up and commit!
Hurry up and get knocked up!
Hurry up just hurry up!!!!!


Aaaccccccckkkkk!


The pressure, whether real or imagined, drives the Voice into prominence. Thus, leaving me feeling a bit deflated. And desiring to spend my magical birthday, mostly alone. This way, I cannot be disappointed. So I reason. Truth be told, (and if it offends anyone who has participated in my birthday in my 33 years, I do apologize), I have never, ever had the kind of birthday where I look back and say " That was a fabulous Fucking birthday!!!!!" (Mom, I know you have done your best! The flowers really made me feel special at school in [5th grade, my Chuck-E Cheez dream came true at 4 years old, at least "the frosting was good! " lol! Shauna, I appreciate you the wonderful job you did coordinating my 30th- you helped make it lovely. Anita and Beth , where ever you might be, I am still grateful for sophmore year's rainy day birthday cupcake pilgrimage.)

Ever.






My birthdays have mostly consisted of me planning my own lame parties. Some people show up. (thank you!) There is usually cake (Um, I was told there would be cake!), and since the age of 21 there has usually been booze (drown my disappointments with another shot of whatever- yes please!) The vision of what I wanted it to be never matches up with what it actually is. I just can't take one more birthday like that. Honestly, I just want to hang out with the people who genuinely love, accept, adore, appreciate and cherish me, whether a new friend or an old. I want to have some laughs, a few tasty adult beverages, maybe some yummy food, and cake. (Or cupcakes. Like it matters... as long as there is cake involved, I am happy. )

In my head, I am building up to the scene in the self-titled movie, in which my alter-ego, Bridget Jone's is cooking her own 33rd awful birthday dinner, and is suddenly interrupted by the hot Mark Darcy who pops by to see her and ends up "being all helpful in the kitchen" (who obviously has "it" for Bridge) and has a lovely dinner making memories and having laughs with her closest friends (until that sleazy ex-boyfriend chap, Daniel Cleaver shows up and ruins everything! I mean if Daniel hadn't of shown up, who knows what kind of present Mark would have presented Bridget with!!!!! )




Yet, ignoring the inevitable disappointment of the passing of November the 30th, I shall indeed be delighted to meet my 33rd year. And I will do so mostly alone. There will be some time spent at a spa. Perhaps lunch at a swanky spot. Maybe I will meet up with dear, close friends for a drink....who knows. (One brave friend has elected to plan my birthday party after I announced I wasn't throwing myself any more birthday parties from this point onwards. Erin, you are a lovely soul for wanting to do so. And after I have regaled you with tales of past birthday party woes, you will see that I could never be disappointed when my expectations are so low to begin with. :) )

My zodiac is Sagittarius, which means that even in the midst of low-ness, I can still see the sliver linings. Yes, it is annoying, isn't it? Because what I can see is that this next year holds the possibility of being the most magical one to date. I am free of the insecurities of my 20's, and iI am settling into the frustrations and relief that come in the 30's, though undoubtedly more self-assured and pleased. I am right where I am supposed to be.

We only have the present, and that is why it is such a gift.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Voice. I hear ya,

Bugger off!