And here we sit, on the cusp of Labor Day Weekend, the official kickoff of my birthday month.
No matter what Kelly says. I at least get two weekends of fun out of it.
Growing up, my birthday always meant back to school. That pretty much sucked wind every year. As I got older, it sucked differently. I didn't go away to college, but lots of my friends left town just in time to miss my birthday. Commence suckage.
It's weird. I'm not dreading it this year. Yes, it will be my sixth wedding anniversary (should I sing "My Favorite Mistake" tonight?) and that still makes me cry, but it doesn't make me weep uncontrollably every time I think about it. That's a little thing I like to call "progress."
This year, I'm not really doing anything special. I don't have to "do" anything special, because dammit, I am special, and not in that short-bus kinda way. I'm just gonna take August 31 - September 9 as the 10-day celebration of my mother giving birth to adorable twins.
Incidentally, Mike was a lot cuter than me back then. I looked like a monkey.
Anyhoo, this is your invitation to celebrate with me, in spirit, in person, however you can. On Cinco de Margot, raise your glass (or coffee mug or cheese Danish) in my direction and wish me well. Happy My Birthday, everyone!