Happy Actual Birfday.

I didn’t have a “bad” day at work this morning, but I think I should have worn a button or something that said “Birthday Girl” because the few people who were told today was my birthday tipped us really well. I felt simultaneously guilty and giddy about it. These people are paying me for having been born 32 years ago?! Awesome! By the way, I’m that old. I know some of you have a few years on me, but the whole I’m-not-a-kid-anymore thing keeps getting more and more obvious. Like when I can’t stay awake past eleven on Saturday nights.

John was a couple hours late for work because he wrote down the wrong time. I wasn’t too worried about it, but Annie was kinda pissed and kept trying to get hold of him. Katie, our trainer, ended up coming in from the office to cover until John got there. It was an honest mistake on his part and didn’t ruin my “special day” at all. What did make it special was what was waiting for me when I got home:

Birthday Flowers
The bouquet
More Goodies
Close-up of the snapdragons
More Flowers
Gerbera daisies; my favorite.

There was a third daisy upstairs on my dresser with a card so nice it made me cry. Charlie has a habit of getting me things I really want and then giving me odd cards that are signed with weird statements like “Best wishes” or “Have a great summer!” Okay, that’s not what he writes, but sometimes it feels that way. He did good this year, though.

Charlie is always very proud of his flower arrangements and choices and likes to tell the ladies at flower shops that he wants to do it himself when they ask if he needs help putting them together. The vase we got from IKEA last week and he took it with him to a local florist to fill. My friend Randy made Liz’s wedding cake and people always ask, when they discover he enjoys making cakes, if he’s gay. I told Charlie he and Randy could go in on a very butch cake-and-flower business, being very straight and totally not gay together. Of course, they’d look like a couple of bears, but we won’t tell them that.

Everyone was so nice this year. Even faceless companies were sending me things. I got a free “pure-fume” from Aveda. I went in and got to select from ten different aromas and got a $20 bottle for free plus double bonus points on my card there. I think my insurance company sent me something last week, and I got an ashtray from Marlboro. Isn’t that funny? “Hey! Are you smoking? If so, we remembered your birthday! If not, please start smoking again because we’re sending you free shit!”

There were tons of messages for me on my MySpace page. I got a funny card from Scott, a singing voicemail from Jennifer (who shares this day as her birthday also), another message from Liz, a sweet card and gift certificate from Annie, twenty bucks from Grandma, and Cavan ordered the Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie for me. It doesn’t come out until the 14th, though, so I have to wait.

Part of me wishes everyone had saved their money and spent it on themselves, or just donated what they spent on me to a nonprofit, but the flowers were so beautiful and it’s always so nice to be remembered by everyone. The older I get, the less of a “deal” I want anyone to make. So each little thing actually really does count. I especially appreciate the people who listen when I say “don’t get me anything.”

Everyone really made my day. Here’s most of it:



5 thoughts on “Happy Actual Birfday.

  1. Ditto to what Annette said – CRAP! But Happy Birthday 🙂 Sounds like it was lovely. I used to rely on MySpace to keep my appraised of birthdays but I’m so done with the spam and general annoyingness of MySpace that I log on about every 2 weeks…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s