One Day More

My 25th birthday has come and gone.

It wasn't as traumatic as I feared it would be. I mean, I still feel my breathe catch, my stomach drop and my inner child burst into tears. But the actual day itself.. not too bad.

The weekend before was spent in a glorious haze. I spent each night with friends, who all politely pretended that the gathering was happenstance and not because of my impending birthday.

The actual birthday was lovely too. About three months ago I had mentioned to the boy that the perfume I had found in Ireland had finally ran out and I wanted to buy something new. Well, the sneaky Boy found the website for the tiny little store in Ireland, ordered a bottle and had it wrapped all pretty waiting for me. If I was the crying type I would have sobbed. Instead I squealed and hugged the boy until Bodhi freaked out and instead on being middle dog. He's good at middle dog.

Also lovely? All the birthday love my friends sent me. Since I wasn't fully acknowledging that it was my birthday, whenever I read a message instead of seeing "happy birthday" I read "your so pretty and thin and I love you". Which rocked. Cause who doesn't want to hear that? Much better then Happy birthday you old hag.

As you get older, the presents get less, but they become more meaningful. Like the perfume. Or my brothers all teamed up and bought me a kickass jacket. Tyr gave me so much music that my computer tried to throw it all up. Twice. My mother sent money to pay for all of us to go to dinner. I got a voicemail from my little sister and almost cried when I heard how much her voice sounds like mine. Presents don't just come in gift wrapped form.

I'm still kind of in denial about the age thing. I'm not ready for it yet, which is a whole other post. But for a nonbirthday... it was pretty awesome. I might even consider having another one.