About My Birthday

I used to make a huge deal of it, one time I stretched it out to six weeks.

Another year my friend and I had back-to-back birthdays so we threw a party at our house. I’d decided to sew my party outfit, a yellow mini-dress from a 1960s pattern I got at ValueVillage, accessorized with a long white scarf and gloves.

I screwed up and the thing took way longer to make than I’d anticipated.  One hour into the party I’m still upstairs sewing.  Two hours in I’m still there, but now my room is packed with my girlfriends helping me out while the party rages downstairs and everyone knows my birthday outfit is being made by me.

We finally get me into the thing, big entrance time, and I fell down the stairs and collapsed into my party.

Something flipped in me years ago and I no longer like celebrating it, tell no on, it’s not listed on Facebook.  I don’t know why people get all weird about that, telling me I “should have this and that planned”, it’s my day. Here’s what ended up happening.

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2 Responses to About My Birthday

  1. A Friend says:

    I wish I was there to give you a great big hug.

  2. KeriCDN says:

    Hi, A Friend, awww, hugs are great.

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