Happy Birthday to Me — sort of, Part I

    I was born in the middle of a day that doesn't exist all that often — February 29. While family members are quick to argue that this explains my, er, quirky personality, I like to think it means I'll always be youthful. After all, I have four times fewer birthdays that the average person my age.

    Yes, today — or maybe tommorrow — I turned 10.75 years old. I'm the youngest mom, the youngest newspaper editor and the youngest romance novelist you've ever met. Hell, I'm even younger than my own children. Weird, but true!

    People think it must be fun to have a weird birthday, and it is. But it wasn't so fun when I was little. Imagine being four or five and being told, "You don't really have a birthday. I guess you don't get any presents." That's a dire pronouncement to the ears of a child. No birthday? No presents? No cake? It's enough to make a tot sit down and cry. And I did.

    The cruelest cut came from my hag of a Sunday school teacher, who had a plastic cake she used to celebrate each months' birthdays. When February came, she brought the cake out, sang happy birthday and left me out. Then March came and she forgot. When I whined about it (I think I was five), she said, "Well you don't really have a birthday do you?" Beeotch!

    When I was little we celebrated my birthday on February 28 with the usual stuff — cake, ice cream, presents. When I got older, I began celebrating on the nearest Saturday night and reserving the entire week for my own amusement. If I didn't have a single day that was my birthday, then, dammit, the whole bloody week was my birthday.

    These days, at the ripe age of 10.5/10.75, I'm not so sure I care whether it's my birthday or not. I just want to continue having them because the alternative — death — is unappealing at the moment.

    But next year I have a real birthday. The whole world will live through another Feburary 29, and I plan on doing what I do whenever there truly is a Leap Day — celebrating my butt off.

    This just in from one of my dearest friends, journalist Terje Langeland:

    "Oh, and happy non-birthday!!!!!!!!!!
    (No cake for you.)"

    Hey, Terje, bite me!

    In other news: Got slammed with another blizzard this morning. Had a few very close calls during my commute. It's been snowing all day so the drive home will be even more fun. YAY!

Total Pageviews