Crappy Birthday To Me

I hate my birthday. It has nothing to do with getting older. I turned 39 this year, and I do not fear 40. I am smarter and healthier than I was at age 30. No, it has to do with the day itself.

The birthday celebration has a really interesting history. The celebration itself is steeped in superstition, as things often are in most beliefs of ancient man. According to the placemat at many Chinese restaurants, the Chinese base their horoscope system on year of birth. I always thought that was kind of silly since that would assume that everyone with the same year of birth would have the same personality characteristics. Just looking at my brother and my husband throws that theory out the window. However, I am an Earth Rooster, which is surprisingly pretty accurate. The modern horoscope, as presented in Cosmopolitan Magazine is based on the Zodiac. The Zodiac horoscope method divides the year into birthday date ranges and creates a daily prediction of the occurrences in the life of each person. Again, that's silly because it would assume that everyone in my date range would have the same characteristics. However, I am Pisces, which again is surprisingly pretty accurate.

Theoretically, in my mind, someone's birthday should be the celebration of the life of one human being. I do try to treat the birthday of the people in my life that way. I always give good wishes, send a card or an email, or give a gift. Another talent of my mother's was celebrating our birthdays. She always made a huge deal, with wonderful gifts. She made us feel really special. My friend Melanie and I have somehow started the tradition of giving each other little gifts. It's fun. I think most of all, it is most important just to acknowledge the date is remembered.

Here are three reasons I hate my birthday:

1. The weather: in the best case it's cold, damp and sunny. Usually it's cold, damp and grey

2. Lent: Lent is the most grim time of the Catholic calendar, a time of introspection, leading to Easter. Who wants to introspect, really? Also, usually I give up sweets for Lent, so no cake on the actual day, I have to wait for the closest Sunday

3. My dad never remembers, but he has deep psychological reasons to "forget," so I kind of let him off the hook

My birthday is extremely forgettable, I know this. It's at the beginning of the month. It doesn't give anyone any time to think "Oh my gosh, it's March, Cyn's birthday is coming up." Additionally, there is not good karma around it either. All I asked for from my husband was a new Starbucks travel coffee mug. He was unable to fulfill this small request. We had the largest snowstorm in central Ohio since 1910 (see #1 above). There were 24 inches of snow and a level three snow emergency. I think he is off the hook. Even flower deliveries were delayed three days.

I don't blame anyone for forgetting my birthday. This year my mother-in-law called and wished me a happy birthday. I am pretty sure she actually called me for something else. After she wished me a Happy Birthday I said "Guess who forgot my birthday." Oh, no," she replied, "not Mark?" "No, not Mark, I said... Me."