Almost-birthday

Today is my almost-birthday. That's because tomorrow is my birthday. And no, I'm not writing this just to remind you all to wish me a happy birthday tomorrow. I have far too many male genes for that, and will thus do that in a very direct and masculine manner at the end of this post. No, I wanted to just very briefly, since I told husband-dear I would only be up here for an hour tops, recording some podcasts for my online class, so very quickly touch on how much I like American birthdays.

First, there is no need to count out how many people are coming, set up an equal number of chairs, cups and saucers, pie-plates, and little snacks like the ubiquitous pickle rolled in a slice of ham. Instead, you tell one friend you would love to go to Meldino's and sing Karaoke with all your friends, and that friend, without you ever asking, immediately emails all of your mutual friends with the quick message that if they're cool, that's where they'll be on Saturday night. And before you know it, everyone you have ever had fun with, is talking about going out and seeing you on your birthday. And the cool thing? You know for a fact that they're not coming just for the free food, since it's a) at a restaurant, and b) there is no stingy Dutch-ish tradition that dictates that the birthday girl (or boy) has to pay for everyone's drinks and snacks, which c) must mean they like you! They really really like you!

Living really far away, although it does mean you miss out on seeing your family, also means that some people go out of their way to make you have a wonderful day nonetheless. When another friend heard it was my birthday, and I would probably have to work at least a little in the afternoon, she worked out a little plan, and then informed me that I had better be ready to be picked up at 10:45 on Saturday morning, because she was going to take care of me. And also; don't underestimate the mystery of receiving packages and boxes, some weeks in advance, that you can't touch, open, or even look at until the big day arrives.

And then of course there is the American rule, one that at least seems to apply to our family, that when it's your birthday, you get to be a kid again. Last year we really proved how true that was when husband-dear rented a bouncy castle for me. Since we can't go nuts every year, there will not be any bouncy castles this time around, however, I did get to tell him what kind of cake I wanted. After years of having simple Dutch cakes, I am now truly making up for what I lacked; I ordered a pink princess cake. Or, to show that I'm not entirely unreasonable, a green Tinkerbell cake. Or an angel cake. But something girlie anyway. With balloons. Admittedly, husband-dear did roll his eyes, but I know he'll come through.

So, it's official, I am now excited for my birthday. "Nog maar een nachtje slapen!"


Oh yeah, and don't forget: tomorrow is the day dude. If you bring the beer, I'll bring the party. Oh wait. That was a little too masculine. And I don't even like beer. How about this then: If you bring the party, I'll make the martinis?