Older and... older

I haven't posted in a while, and it was because I wasn't entirely sure what to write. Another birthday has swung passed in the meantime and I wasn't sure what to say. It's not that I'm upset about getting older - than particular vanity hasn't struck me yet. In fact, it's the opposite.

I still get excited about my birthday in the same way that a kid does - which means it's really selfish. I want people to be excited for me, I want cake and presents and whole day of people thinking about me first. Now that we're "grown-ups", I don't get that anymore. It started on Friday, when we learned that the dogs in Sweden have kennel cough, so Ursa won't be coming until the end of the month. Then, we showed up at Mike and Ang's for dinner with an ice cream cake and no one had told us it was canceled. My actual birthday was Sunday, so I had to compete with Mother's Day. (Not that I begrudge my mom her large share of kudos, but it would work so much better on separate days!) I'd saved up all my presents to open at once: two cheques, a pair of pants and some make-up. All great stuff, that I needed, but hardly the great twinkling pile of goodies that my imagination insists on conjuring.

Stuart took me out to see Monsters Vs Aliens which was great. And we did all you can eat crab with Kaylene and Dave on Monday which was also great.

So it wasn't a bad birthday (I've had those, this was not one), in fact, it was pretty cool - it just wasn't rob me of speech, where do I put all this stuff, people DO like me great. And it makes me just a little sad, because I think those days are over for good.