The Birthday Curse


Birthdays have always been a big deal in my family. Not one birthday in my life has passed without all of the birthday staples: friends, cake, ice cream, and presents. I love any excuse for a party and especially love MYSELF being the excuse. Most normal people (I think) sit back and wait to see if anyone plans anything special to celebrate their big day, but not me. I want to do it all, including sometimes baking my own cake! (I realize that this further confirms my skewed level of normality.) My reasoning is simple. It’s my big day and I want to do exactly what I want for MY DAY, so who better to plan it than MYSELF? Sure, this might sound a little arrogant and selfish, but I grant myself this selfishness one day out of 364, so back off! :-)I’m a holiday baby. I was born on the 26th of May (write it down, I expect a card) and the 26th always falls right around Memorial Day weekend. If I wasn’t as deeply grateful as I am for the sacrifices made by our military for my freedom and safety, I would almost joke that my birthday is a National Holiday. However, out of respect for our armed forces that are way more badass than I’ll ever be, I’ll just be honored to be celebrated in general proximity to their holiday and extremely grateful for my 3 day birthday weekend every year. My big weekend is usually always perfect weather, hot enough for swimming but cool enough to want to be outside. People are by default friendly and fun loving and Anheuser-Busch goes into over-production mode for party-goers. It’s the perfect time to celebrate.

You’re all jealous now aren’t you? I can see you there considering how poor it is to be born on some ordinary date in March that typically always falls on a rainy Monday when the coworkers are cranky and oblivious that anything is special in your world. Well, cheer up because I haven’t told you about the Birthday Curse.

It all began when I turned 21. This is supposed to be the monument of all monumental birthdays, correct? I planned my perfect weekend for months. My closest friends from all over the US were going to gather at a cabin in the Smokeys for the weekend. We had a hot tub, pool table, grilling deck, and were far enough on top of the mountain to be as loud and obnoxious as we wanted. Great plan, right? Negative. It was a disaster. From the moment we all unpacked there was horrendous fighting and I lost one of my most valued friendships of all time that weekend. The heated confrontations weren’t the worst of the drama either. Another friend of mine had to be taken to the hospital for fear of a heart attack, someone else got a stomach virus and to top it off I fell and cracked my head on the hot tub – not once, but twice. The Birthday Curse had commenced.

Every birthday since has been become a mini-crusade to try to recoup for the tragedies of my 21st but every celebration has failed incredibly. I’ve had more trips to the hospital, friendly-fire wars and family meltdowns than any once person should ever have to endure.

This year as I began the countdown to my big day fear and anxiety were in full force. What horrors would this year hold? God knows, my life sucks enough on a regular day lately… what more can I handle? I seriously considered locking myself in my bedroom and not coming out all weekend. Seriously. Briefly, I played with the idea of having a cookout with friends, because that’s harmless right? However, after sending the invitations I began to fret about the fire liability of a grill and canceled the cookout. My sister even begged to throw me a dinner party and I practically refused because hell, at this point it’s better to be safe than sorry! I’m tired of singing “It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to!”

So I became anti-birthday this year and sat on my ass and didn’t plan anything. And something amazing happened. I had the best birthday EVER. J

It’s funny what life can present to you if you just let things take a natural course and stop trying to write your future for yourself. My best friend came to Nashville to see me, taking her only vacation time for the year just for me. That alone, MADE my weekend. Together we spent four days playing with my kids, visiting with people, laughing, and partying. On Sunday my wonderful sister convinced me to do a low-key dinner and I am so glad that I agreed. It was fabulous. Finally, on Monday my actual birthday passed almost completely without incident and ended with 3 amazing friends, a bottle of wine, a good movie and a surprise birthday cake. At midnight we toasted to the END of the Birthday Curse!

Happy Birthday to me and THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to all of you who love me and have made this year soooo special!!!

Bring it on 28! I’m ready for ya!

If any of you have experienced any of your own birthday curses or have had the joy of being a part of mine, feel free to share!!!


One Response to “The Birthday Curse”

  1. 1 kate

    Birthdays aren’t “cursed” but do repeatedly suck. Ever since my 16th party where no one came. Maybe my 28th will be the turning point…

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