image from Epicurious.com*

I do not grow older gracefully. Rather, I must be dragged kicking and screaming into every new year. I have to have parties celebrating my birthday forced upon me. FORCED. As in, "If you don't speak up now we're just going to invite everyone we assume you're friends with, and then it's your own damn fault if the company sucks." So I always have to make the guest list because I am picky and a control freak. Sigh. (And normally I will look for any excuse to have a party.)

Some people are actually excited about having birthdays. Those people are all under the age of 21. 21 was the last time I was excited to have a birthday, because then it meant I didn't have to use a fake ID anymore. I believe a big cocktail party was thrown in my honour, so that I could dress up. I love dressing up. But since then, it's all been downhill from there.

Mentions of my birthday always have me spewing some version of the following: "Sure, you say 24 is young, but it's one year closer to 25, and THAT'S a freaking QUARTER OF A CENTURY old, which is halfway to FIFTY and THAT is halfway to ONE HUNDRED. Which is OLD. And my master life plan has me married by 28-29 with my first kid before I turn 30, and there is NOBODY on the horizon right now. And I only have FOUR YEARS LEFT to find someone. I am going to die ALONE, with only my cute puppy Linus keeping me company. ALONE, I tell you."

There is no arguing with me. This year is no different. People have asked what I'm doing for my birthday. Here is my answer: Going to DC and forgetting that it exists. No parties, no celebrations, nothing. I don't want any of that this year. (Perhaps next when I am indeed a quarter of a century old. Egads, I can't be that old.)

That's right. I'm staying 23. Tough shit.

Really, I just want the presents without the aging. That's possible, right?


*That is the cake that my friend Steph made for my birthday last year. I might not want to celebrate it, but if I'm forced into it... yummy. Red velvet cake. My favourite kind. No, that's not the actual cake she made, but hers looked amazingly really close to that one. Just imagine candles stuck in it, and there you have it. If you ever want to make me the happiest girl on this planet, getting - or better yet, making - me a red velvet cake puts you on the right path.