There won’t be an iPad under the tree.* A Kindle would be cool.
And please don’t embarrass me by asking about my birthday plans.
The plans involve…
Drinks on Friday with one friend, who probably won’t know it’s my birthday until she sees it on Facebook. Until a year or so ago, she was friend-of-friend and now I live here in NYC where she also lives so we have promoted each other to friend.
Nothing (nothing!) on Saturday night as of now. Horrors. Ask me to drink with you. I just might.
A mid-afternoon meal with my visiting-for-the-day parents. And I don’t even get to pick the restaurant.
I know: world’s tiniest violins. And I’m not as bitter as I sound. Just resigned to the scatter of friends that happens when people move, get married, have kids and other things that mean no one drops everything to drink with you on your birthday like they did ten years ago.
But that’s ok because I’m happier, in general, than I was at 27. I’m steadier, and I’m smarter. The friends that I have now are in similar stages of life as me, and the ones I miss who are too busy doing other stuff will probably show up again eventually.
Life’s not the wild party it used to be. But it’s alright. Really.