I decided to drive home last night at 12 am. I just suddenly felt the need to go home. So I did. And you know whats weird. I am really afraid of deer. I'm not afraid of them the way I am of spiders, you know ... with the knowledge that spiders exist to try to freak me out and suck my blood. Its just that deer don't run in straight lines and their eyes are so big and blank that it freaks me out. Thats all. I was driving down this long woodsy road which is my last leg on the homeward bound journey. It was about ten after 1 and I was looking for deer. Actively looking. I kept seeing little reflective patches on telephone poles and slamming on brakes thinking they were deer eyes. And every time I slammed on brakes I said to myself, "Idiot, thats a reflector, why are you so freaked out?" But as soon as I started picking up speed again I kept seeing visions of big antler-donning deer jumping out in front of my car, me slamming on brakes, spinning into the deer and dying a slow painful deer death on the side of flat rock road with no cell phone service. Morbid, I know. I was kind of in a funk anyway but I generally have this feeling anytime I drive late at night next to trees.
The good news is I survived. And I am 22 now, which so far is significantly the same as 21. Adult birthdays are so weird. When you're a kid, its like "Oh man my birthday's coming and I'm gonna have a party and everyone will come and bring me present wrapped up and we'll play games and drink sodas and eat cake and ice cream and then everyone will sit around and watch me open presents and then afterward i'll probably take a nap and then play with my new toys or talk about how I got $80 and map out all the cool things I can buy with it."
Then you get to those teenage birthdays which are decidely awkward. You have to make sure your party is "in style" and not too little-kiddish or even birthdayish but just coooooool. I remember in sixth grade I wanted to have a dance party. It was all the rave. Rent out the Kershaw gym where we played rec basketball, lights low, Mariah Carey and BoyzIIMen ballads a-plenty. Girls on the right side bleachers ... limited 2 jeans, clear mascara and powder, boys on the left sidem - silver chains, Tommy Hilfiger cologne and No Fear tshirts. The basketball court mostly empty for Mariah and the boys but crowded with girls for the Beach Boys. My parents didn't want to pay to rent out the gym, which now looking back I can't blame them for, so we decided to try to do something similar in the back carport. Stereo set up, oil stains scrubbed down, chips and soda. A Beatles cake. It was pretty much a bust in sixth grade eyes. No one danced because we could all see each other ... and its not as if we would've danced anyway, but the fact that the thought of dancing was zapped by the late-setting sun just wasn't good.
Adult birthdays are not nearly as strange as teenage birthdays, but still weird. In college all your friends are around and you go out and have a party and act stupid. But post-college, borderline real world. Its all about phone calls and greeting cards (and these days facebook). If you get money, you think "Sweet now I can pay my cell phone bill or my water bill or my ridiculously expensive electric bill." You don't want to announce your birthday but you still have that little kid feeling that the day is supposed to be amazing and sunny and all about you. But you're old enough to know better. It's sort of like birthdays get jaded. Like Christmas morning. Thats pretty sad.
There were several people who made my birthday special, I don't want to give the impression that it wasn't. I got sung happy birthday to by a class of 11th and 12th graders that ended in something like "You're 22 thats so oooooooold!" courtesy of Dad. Another of my favorite renditions was the off-key but very heartfelt version from my Mom - "I wish I could be there to hug and kiss you!" Brooke, of course, was on key and lovely. Erin was enthusiastic and funny as always ... she couldve been so mean considering she got HER birthday present from me on MY birthday ... that would be like 2 months late. Christina called me 3 hours before my birthday officially started and twice that day. Nick created a personal birthday ditty which made me smile between therapy sessions and Lisa Orgo's crazy message left me laughing. Tiffany gave me a cookbook and a book of hilarious and wonderfully dirty and underhand spanish phrases. Mom sent me three birhdays cards, causing the postman to wish me happy birhtday. Rachel made me muffins a day early and brought them to class. Chrissy baked cookies. And therapy went well.
Tomorrow my grandmother is hosting a birthday lunch for me and my cousin. Roast beef, turkey, butter beans, corn, rice and gravy, garlic mashed potatoes, fried chicken, green beans, cabbage, squash casserole, biscuits, banana pudding, dirt cake .... HEAVEN.
I'll ask forgiveness for the gluttony later. I mean, the word on the street is we were born sinners ... I'm just commemorating that event ...
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