turning 40
I have given up… I have given up and I am waving a little white flag. I have ALWAYS been the lover of my own birthday. Its MY day, a day that I can lazily ask others to do for me by tacking on “coz It’s my birthday” at the end of All sentences. I have prethought & preplanned & counted down to others when my birthday is almost a good 30 days out. I’m the type of person that will write “15 days left til my B day” on your calendar when you’re not looking. It’s never been about presents, its more about feeling special as in my mind I am the only person who has rights to this day (oh and my friend Carlos… his mum popped him out a year after me but I don’t mind sharing with him as he is special to me anyhow). If you say your Birthday is May 1st I will tell you that you are mistaken. At least… this WAS me until this year when father time cracked me over the skull leaving me with one of those cartoon humps on my head with a patch of hair balancing at the top. I could NEVER have foreseen this happening. How can 2 little numbers when pushed together just right, suddenly remind you “hey… your on the downward end of life now my friend… Pay attention to all those “polident’ commercials because you’ll need to be up on all the old people facts and Lingo.”
I NEVER could understand people or TV shows when people shied away from their given Birthdays. ITS FREE- IT’s YOURS. I thought anyone who claimed this was a knucklehead or faking it for attention because if I could have 2 b days a year I would take control of it in a heartbeat (maybe one in summer and one not too far off of Christmas in case I needed to call ME TIME to do holiday shopping or to have a reason why I didn’t pick up someones present “oh gosh.. I’m sorry.. it was my birthday and I just got carried away.” This way I could avoid crowded malls at the same time - I mean what better way to utilize the freedom of ‘Birthday?’.
I tried to tell myself as this year started rolling out that it’s been super busy. I DID just start the new job and all that but if I am going to be very honest with myself I can tell you that I lived more in a world of denial since about New Years. It was almost as if I had tricked myself into believing if I didn’t do my regular count down and didn’t let the world of anxious well wishers in on the fact that my birthday was “X” many days away, that it just might possibly sneak by unnoticed and once that happened I would not have to collect on the age that came with it. “oh no… you missed it.. too late now, you’ll have to wait to catch me next year”… In the lead up years I enjoyed sharing my Birthday as people naturally ask your age and they have always told me “no way… you look WAY younger. I would have guessed about 20”… But this year I realize that by sharing this fact I would actually have to own up to being old. 40…it even sounds eons past than of ‘thirty something.’
I was most affected by the pending age of doom LAST night (the night before said Birthday). It honestly had that feeling of walking the green mile, DOOM!! All that ran thru my mind is all the wrinkles, the sore muscles, the clicking of my bones… up until that moment I was able to think that if I bought the best ‘creams’ and worked out some that I might be able to starve off aging and in fact held out some bogus hope that I would wake up back in the body that I owned in my 20’s (you know… the one that ate anything and drank, partied and stayed out a clubs not needing any sleep.. the NO maintenance me). The announcement of 40 holds the equivalent of stripping off the last grasp at this dream…. By the time I would wake up in the morning there would be no going back.
There is but one thing that has so far saved me from completely going out and putting money down on a burial plot… Skating. When my husband announced that he and my friend Kacy had planned a skate party for my “green mile” birthday, I suddenly was able to reverse a small amount of time.
What’s one of the biggest dreams a kid of my generation would have wanted back in the days of jr. high? I am gonna tell you…I always envied the kids that had Skate party’s. It was bad enough skating past those private little glass enclosed party rooms and seeing people setting up inside. Streamers and cake, occasionally there would be a sign that announced the name of the birthday child who’s parents must really have loved them. Then came the announcement over the speakers “ all those who came to help Billy celebrate his birthday- your party room is now open.” My Bladder would suddenly shrink to the size of pea forcing me to have to skate pass the “party rooms” on my way to the bathroom about a million times. One can’t help but to look. All those happy children cheering silently behind the glass and scarfing down cake. UGHHH… it was segregation at it’s earliest form and it was pure torture. What I couldn’t understand is even though there was no wall but only glass separating me from the other children & I knew they could see me- I suddenly had been demoted to invisibility. Any other time I would have loved to have this ‘super power’ (Like when I didn’t want to be called on in class or when my sister suddenly turned ‘Hyde’ and needed someone to serve up a ‘Hearst Donut”/AKA Hurts… don’t it) But NEVER did I want invisibility when Cake was involved. If ONLY they would post a picture of the Birthday person on the wall as they prepped the room, I would have the upper hand of hunting this kid down and making friends with him/her prior to Party time. I could care less if Billy had one eye in the middle of his forehead… I would ask him to a couples skate (or at least hold the other side of my comb like we did instead of holding hands back in the skate days)
I fought my conscience a few times wondering what would happen if I just came in and joined them? Would “Billy” have the guts to stand up and point me out “Hey! I didn’t invite THAT girl!!”, that’s when security guards are called in to force me out of the party (its not like I could resist them with wheels on my feet and a stopper can only grant you so much staying power.) Did “Billy” even know his birthday list? Isnt it normally the parents that plan these events FOR their child? Who’s to say I wasn’t “dad’s Boss’s daughter from out of town.” It wouldn’t be until later that night as mum slapped on the cold cream that she asked her husband about ‘the boss’s daughter” being there…(”I didn’t even know George had a daughter” “George? No he doesn’t have one.. why?”) that they would suddenly realize they had been cake bamboozled.
I can even sadly admit that there were times I would lurk by the skate return area just HOPING the party would finish up quickly and get back to the skating floor, leaving behind a unattended to cake. Drool. I felt so completely cheated by my parents for never coming up with the idea of giving me a skate party. I shouldn’t have to ask … If they really loved me and cared about my popularity, they would have KNOWN to thrown me a Skate party in one of those tiny blue carpeted wall rooms… it should have been ME who got to ignore others.
It may be late… it may not have come from my parents- but FINALLY at 40 I will be able to mark off the fantasy of a skate party from my list of “2 do’s” in this life Gone are the tiny segregated rooms and to be honest this time I don’t plan on ignoring anyone. I have something even BETTER!!! Kacy and my husband gave me the entire rink for my birthday. Not only do I get to be surrounded by my friends for my birthday but its also a fun little gift for everyone else as well. Id say about 90% of the invites went to people that haven’t gone skating in well over 10-15 years. Its been amazing to invite everyone, to be able to tell them they only have to bring themselves and that it will be free and to know everyone will be having a great time. The Husband and Kacy have planned well as they have even themed it as the 80’s. All clothes and music will all reflect the years I grew up in. Every single person I have spoken too is just as excited as I am to be able to go skating. Amazing that just the other day I was thinking how completely old I have gotten, how walking is now a hassle, that getting up in the morning is a freak show of bones popping and escaping of other noisy bodily functions, I was feeling so old that I was starting to plan on knitting a blanket to set over my lap in the rocking chair and now with the simple planning by 2 people I have been given something more age fighting than Oil Olay night cream… I have been given youth and Not only does this give me energy but I get to drag my friends back years with me… its kinda like that Twilight zone… remember the one where the old people grow young again playing a game of kick the can only this time we will reverse time on wheels. “Like totally Tubular huh?”