Birthdayphobia

38.
I know.
Age is just a number. And I am normally good with numbers.
But - OH MY GOD.

When I was young, people of this unmentionable age were ANCIENT. I was so depressed yesterday, not looking forward to today at all. You know you are totally getting old when people try to comfort you by saying "Yes, getting older is bad, but the alternative is worse". Of course. To die would be pretty upsetting. Quite a bummer, yes. I can agree on that. But what about the other alternative? How about SLOWING DOWN - if only just a little? I feel that I am on this rollercoaster now, and it just goes faster and faster, and very soon I will be all wrinkly. (This is - I hear - the stage after my current one - saggy). And I will start going to the bingo salon across the street. And watch "Bonanza" on TV. (Uhm. Well. I actually do watch that already - sometimes). And I will stop drinking champagne. And - develop a habit for sherry instead. Please, someone, help me!

It is a bit of a contradiction, how I ALWAYS need to plan a trip or some other event in my near future, because I need to have something to look forward to. And when you have something you look forward to, you do want time to pass. Quickly. But - now - when I come to think of it, really, all I want is for time to stand still. At least for a little while.

To be honest - (my own) birthdays are not really my cup of tea. There is just too much pressure. When I was a kid, birthday parties seemed to serve as a kind of popularity contest. One that could get pretty ugly sometimes. It was all about who was invited to who's birthday. And - most importantly - who was NOT. Young girls are among the cruelest creatures on this earth. Another problem I have with my own birthday parties are that they were all about ME. And - this might come as a bit of a surprise to some of you - I am actually quite shy.

This does not mean that I do not like attention. Oh no. I LOVE attention. I AM human, you know. It is just that I do not appreciate getting everybody's attention AT ONCE. That just is too much. Needless to say, the nightmare of any of my past birthdays has been:

** THE SINGING **

Imagine all the other kids (some of them pretty freaky) standing around you. Singing/screaming "Happy birthday" or some other Norwegian version of the birthday song - at the top of their lungs. You could not even escape the damn thing in school, as - of course - the whole class was ORDERED to sing for you, there too. Being so utterly brave about this whole thing, I used to HIDE. Under a table. Alternatively, under my desk. On a few occasions, I even started crying. In retrospect, I do find this slightly pathetic, I do. But I just could not take it. One of the benefits of growing up/old, is that you don't have to.

I started the day with breakfast - including birthday cake - with Mr. Incredible. We had our nineteenth anniversary yesterday, but please don't tell anyone. Another proof of how old I am. After all of those years, he knows me pretty well, so he had picked up on my quite specific hints (is an e-mail with product number specific enough for ya?) regarding what to buy me.

Yay! A box like that always makes me smiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiile. Widely.

A cosmetic pouch that matches my handbag - and luggage! What a surprise!

Unbelievably enough, the day continued to improve - even after my little LV moment. And - I very soon had to come to the conclusion that I just LOVE birthdays anno 2011. Instead of the intimidating experience of being sung to by a huge terrifying crowd, I have been continuously peppered with lots and lots of nice little birthday greetings via texts, e-mails, and on Facebook - all day. Completely unexpected, and absolutely overwhelming. Wow. You guys surely know how to make a girl happy.

After fighting with the photocopier at work to get it to scan one of my expense reports for an hour-or-so, I went out to lunch with my sister. More cake! Yay! Since husband has to focus on his second career - as a possible future professional tennis player - we had a quiet dinner at home tonight. So that he could make it to tennis practice. I will make up for this on Saturday, when both my grandmothers are coming over for lunch. "Sherry, anyone?"

I just got off the phone with my three-year-old nephew, who sang "Happy birthday" to me. Very cute. And not scary at all. A perfect end to a perfect day. I guess I am starting to get over my birthday-phobia.

Thanks for making my day special :)