Next Benchmark: AARP?

Well, I survived it. The Big 2-1. I haven't bought myself a single drink yet, which of course makes me the lamest 21-year-old on the planet. But I did it - I made it 21 years on this planet, and I think I deserve a pat on the back for that.

The cupcakes I decorated for the cast of Candide!

Please, excuse the lackluster introduction. I have to say that yesterday was one the of the best birthdays I've ever had... ever. I guess it sort of slipped my mind that 21 was big and important, which produced low expectations that were consistently blown away by all the amazingly kind things my friends and family did for me. 

To simplify, I was just praying my birthday wouldn't suck too hard, and it happened to rock. 

Similar to my Thanksgiving review, here is a typical WMWC list of why my birthday was pretty much awesome, in no particular order.

1) Beautiful, sunny weather. It could have been warm, but hey - I'll take sunshine over gross any day.

2) Wearing a fabulous (far too expensive) shirt paired with perfect little turquoise flats and my current favorite pair of jeans. Great outfit, if I do say so myself.

3) No less than THREE "perishable packages" arrived at my dorm unexpectedly. Flowers, a bottle of champagne, and a big ol' Edible Arrangement, which will act as all of my meals for the next few days. That, and cereal.

4) Gotta love the constant Facebook wall posts. Thanks for those, everyone.

5) Lunch with my mom. To be fair, that was the day before my birthday, but we went to Todd English's restaurant, Olives, in Union Square, which was sufficiently swanky and delicious, so it belongs on this list.

6) Obtaining, decorating, carrying, and giving away cupcakes at rehearsal. As much as those damn cupcakes took forever to decorate and made my arms burn walking to and from campus, there was something so rewarding about feeding the people I love who are working on this production right now. I don't know, call me crazy, but making people happy is a present in itself.

7) Knowing my best friend was having her birthday on the other side of the island. Even though we played phone tag all day, I like to think she was enjoying her birthday as much as I was.

8) Removing my fake ID. Replacing it with my real ID. Sweet.

9) Little things - text messages from friends I haven't heard from in a while. Being treated to a skinny vanilla latte (which is becoming an increasingly expensive present!). Hugs.

10) Hearing the cast of Candide sing "Happy Birthday" even though it was like 11:30 p.m. and everyone was completely exhausted. Really, I almost cried.

11) Coming home from rehearsal to find my Edible Arrangement refrigerated and my roommates waiting, card in hand, to give me champagne-infused Jacque Torres truffles. Mmmmm.

12) Finally, and most confusingly, a long overdue, refreshingly honest conversation with The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend. Oddly enough, he was the first person to wish me a happy birthday at midnight (via text), and the last person I talked to when the clock struck midnight and my birthday was over. The lines are blurred and it's all pretty much a mess, but it may be a good kind of messy... although I can't say for sure. All I can say is that it felt very natural to begin and end my birthday with him, in spirit.

I apologize, my WMWC readers, for the lack of sarcasm in this post, which was hardly even the least bit humorous. But I guess I'm just feeling too grateful to be spiteful, you know? So I want to say to everyone a big hearty thank you. Thank you roommates, castmates, family members, friends, and even thank you to The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend. If I could, I would reach out through the blogosphere and hug each and every one of you.

Ugh, Birthday

I think I should be voted the person least excited to turn 21 in the history of America.

Wait, wait, wait, back up. Let me rephrase... I am ECSTATIC to BE 21. I can't wait to stand in line at a bar and not wonder, "Hmmm, will today be the day they notice the fact that my ID has no hologram?" I'll be legal, I'll have passed the final threshold. No more, "Well at least you can buy cigarettes and porn!" No more, "So where IS Largo, Florida anyway?" I'll be entering a world of unicorns and rainbows and "Hey, you're 21, right? The world is your oyster!"

Sounds great. Now can someone please transport me past March 31st (The Day) and straight to April 1st, when I'll be legal and old and no longer haunted by this whole birthday thing?

It seems like the older I get, the more my birthdays blow. When I was a kid, it was all about presents and my birthday meal made by my mom and narcissism and cake. In high school too, birthdays were pretty awesome. I had a boyfriend all four years who made me cards and bought me presents and treated me like a princess. Plus, my best friend from high school shares my birthday (which is a freaky coincidence considering how similar we are) so we would do the whole bring-each-other-balloons thing so we could feel loved and adored and super cool. 

Sure, one year in high school a pack of girls I didn't know came up behind me and my balloons and slashed them with what I can only assume was a knife, but who cares? I thought it was a testament to the kind of hard-knock high school I went to since beneath my pasty white exterior and naivete, I like to think I'm a little bit of a ghetto-ass bitch. I mean, I really like that "to-the-windows, to-the-walls" song and I do a mean ass-shaking. 

But I digress.

Contrary to what has been written, this post is NOT about my penchant for shaking my ass (seriously, I'm good at it). What it IS about is my birthday, which is rapidly approaching regardless of how I wish it gone.

Allow me to complain for just a second (because it is MY blog and, well, skip ahead if you don't like whiners.) My birthday is a Tuesday... the Tuesday before the Thursday opening of the show I'm in. Which means, of course, no drinking. No wild partying. It means tech rehearsals the weekend before, four shows the weekend after, and class all week. It means I will be stressed out of my effing mind and exhausted and just trying to muster enough energy to not be a total wreck.

Oh, and one other small thing... that whole calamity with The Well-Intentioned Ex-Boyfriend. Allow me to give you an analogy: It's kind of like I have this big, festering, pussing, throbbing wound. And now it's starting to scab over, which allows me to live my daily life without constant pulsing, agonizing pain. But it still hasn't healed and doesn't show signs of healing for a very long time. Which, of course makes it very difficult to... Oh, I don't know, have fun? Enjoy things? I spend too much time and energy trying to be all, "I'm not dying inside!" to attempt, of all things, a BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION.

Ok so let's recap: 

Ridiculously Busy Schedule. Check. 

Festering Emotional Wound. Double Check.

An Aversion to Spending Money and/or Consuming Too Many Calories. Check.

Ahhh, I forgot, one more thing. Last year's birthday? The big 2-0? Also dampened by heartbreak, the death of a relative, and, best of all, vomit clean up.

Woo! Let the festivities begin. Ugh*

*Okay, it felt wrong to end my blog post on such a cynical, F my L kind of note. So I'll make one admission: I AM planning on making cupcakes the day before my birthday to hand out at rehearsal. I'll sit and I'll decorate them and it will make me very happy to give them to people I love. And as long as people enjoy them, my birthday won't 100% suck.