I'm 34 today. It's not a special number or anything.
I didn't get any presents.
Turning 34 is interesting because 34 of my Facebook friends said some version of "Happy Birthday" on my timeline and some of them were pretty funny. (I liked Bueno's comment "This should be a National Holiday" the best.) It's National Clown Week. I effing HATE Clowns. And Zombies. Especially Clombies.
I had seven calls; three of which I was able to answer since I was at a work off site*. (KylAE, Devo and Brad actually got a hold of me. Kudos to Karla for the first call... and both Mom and Biggie Sue for singing. I totes saved the message from Glo cause not only did she 1) give birth to me but 2) has an awesome off-key and gloriously happy singing voice.) And my work peeps did wish me a HBD when I arrived. Not to mention, Trish the Dish spent 4 hours laboring over those those amaze-balls cinnamon rolls.
Two text messages. Devo gets bonus points for being the first to text and wish me a Happy Birthday, (before my husband BTW. 6:45 am!) and then following up with a call.
The Boopins didn't care as long as they got lovins when I got home.
Hubs gave me a big check to deposit into savings and then promised that we'd do something artsy with fine dining next weekend.
Am I the new Molly Ringwald, lamenting about her birthday in the digital age?
I guess I just wanted a candle on something. And people smiling at me that I was special today.
But I suppose all those HBD wishes I put on other peoples FB walls on their special day feel the same.
The older I get, the more I yearn for connection. Yet, as connected we are at a touch of the keypad, the less we are truly intimately bonded.
*I'd like to note that the new regime says we get to take off work for our birthday ... yet I still had to "work" on my birthday.