By this time next week I will be one year older. But for the first time in a while, I’m in a place of looking forward to it or trying to do my best to…

Now wait. Not in a yippee, more grey hairs and wrinkles to boot but in a ‘get to hang with people who love me’ kind of way. But then again, I hang out with people who love me all the time, without the added ‘getting older bit’. Ugh…

Really, I’m just trying to not let the birthday funk hit me. I don’t know about you but for a long time, as my birthday nears, I become a bitchy recluse. On the eve, you couldn’t find me if you stood outside my apartment with cupcakes, Prosecco and Ben Affleck as a present. I typically would have bunkered down armed with my favorite dvds, General Tso’s chicken and at least three cartons of Ben & Jerry’s.

But last year changed all that. Or rather, last year was the first year that it was different. Spent in Paris with my sister and Smith – we had a blast! Largely because there was only two people with me who knew it was my birthday and they had been warned that is should go unmentioned. They wished my a good year twice – once in the morning (sitting in a park with mimosas and once over dessert). No connection to a phone or facebook, I escaped the jokes and mentions of the elderly years that are fast approaching. I since swore that all birthday’s should be celebrated as such.

Another year has past and my life isn’t where or what it was last year. That thrills me! However, I’m surrounded by people who are very happy to celebrate my forthcoming birthday; hiding beneath covers and eating chocolate chip cookies all day is not an option. Lil Burs has been on a countdown with regular reminders for me (luckily, she thinks I’m four years younger than I am. That was not my doing…I swear!) I’m doing my best to not get into a funk but as it grows nearer I feel myself falling… falling…falling…into that familiar despair. Hopefully they’ll be a big pile of soft baked chocolate chip cookies to cushion the blow.

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