All the Birthday Feels

I hate that expression; 'it gives me all the feels."

Like, hate it.

But, I have a birthday coming up at the end of this week and with that comes other things I abhor.

No, not birthdays. Birthdays are great.

I hate people who freak the frock out about aging.

Like, hate it.

So I thought, let's just tie this together with a like a bow on a birthday box and get real about those milestone days we call our birthdays.

Here's the nuts and bolts of birthdays; I don't care what number you're at, or nearing. I don't care what "big number" you may have passed or is coming up. What, may I ask, is the alternative to aging?

Ding, ding, ding - you there, in the white, waving your hand in the air. Do you have the answer?


That is correct, White Shirt Guy! The alternative to aging is NOT AGING which, some intelligent people might also recognize as DYING.

The opposite of having a birthday is having NO BIRTHDAY. No reason to celebrate. No addition of another birthday candle. No nothing because you are not here.

...Ponder that for a moment while I put away my yelling voice and try to find my inside voice....

So, as someone with a zest for life - you can see how it might chap my hide a bit when I hear someone whining about getting another year older.

Let's just stop that silliness right about... oh... now seems good.

Age! Do it. Age gracefully. Age overwhelmingly. Gather all the numbers like a snowball rolling downhill. Do it because when your snowball stops, the object of the game is to have a big snowball.

So, now that we're all on the same page, I do have some actually birthday feelings. (I mean, feels. For the sake of the title. And the fact that its 2019 and every word seems like it has a shortened version of itself to make us sound less intelligent than we were five years ago.)

Because, as firmly as I believe you shouldn't blather on about getting older, I also firmly believe its a-okay to have thoughts on what birthdays bring.

For instance:

I think in terms of years with this one. Oh look, year 41 passed and I STILL haven't used algebra. Huh.


You have to love social media on your birthday. I mean, if there's ever a reason to accept aging, it's the fact that if you try to hide it you will only seem silly when 718 people jot down the words Happy Birthday on your Facebook page.

Just roll with it, man.

Another particular favorite feeling I get from birthdays:

I like to just push my thumb upward and scream, "Big money, big money" while I wait to see how close it lands to my actual year of birth.

Also another year always means I find another way I am truly "an old person."

For instance:

Dammit why is the soup in aisle three now?!?! Can't you people leave well enough alone?

Birthdays though, more than anything are a reason to celebrate, reflect and let go of what bothered you about the previous year...

And, just like many other old people out there, I find with every year gained, I care less and less about what others think. So I'll leave you with my final thought on turning 42:

Age is a wonderful thing, people. With it comes wisdom, wrinkles, early bedtime and if you're lucky, a little more sass.