When I was seventeen...It was a very good year

At what point in our lives does our
birthday seem less important? The
anniversary of my loud and raucous
entrance into the world is almost
upon us and I'm not sure how I feel
about it.

As a child, I would pant and scream
and pull my hair out in anticipation
of another birthday. Another birthday
meant...cake and ice-cream...gifts...
balloons...friends doing the Twist
to Chubby Checker on my living room
floor...hot, sunny, humid Philadelphia
days...and being surrounded by loving
family that kept me laughing all day.

So what's changed?

I stay away from cake and ice-cream
to keep from looking like Queen Latifah
on steroids...gifts are still great, but
I feel like the man that has everything
already...balloons would be fabulous if
only I knew how to make those whacky
balloon animals...the only Twist my
friends are doing these days is a twist
of lime in their martini...hot and humid?
HELLO! I live in San Francisco where the
only thing cooler than the fog is the
cold shoulder from my boyfreind when
I haven't done the dishes.

So yes, some things have changed...
and some have not.

My family still keeps me laughing...My
friends keep me grounded...and my partner
keeps me looking forward to each and
every day. And with the passing of yet
another year...all I can say is...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME