Respect the Birthday

Today is my birthday.
As the clock struck midnight I found myself dancing alone in my underwear in my bedroom.
There was no music playing.
I had my own song playing in my head. It happens a lot.
I always have my own song to dance to. I'm always a bit different than the rest. Dancing to the sound of another drum. Or something.
Then my cell played a little beep and I received a text from a certain someone. It brought a smile to my face. Because someone was paying attention to the clock. Just like me.

I've found, however, that the older I get, the more depressing the birthdays become. I'm a firm believer in celebrating the day someone gets older. It's one more year they've survived. One more year I've gotten to know them, etc. However, people stopped sending me as many birthday cards after I turned 16. The phone calls didn't come as numerous either. Apparently we Americans only celebrate the youth.

Then I wonder, why do we celebrate birthdays in the first place? It just so happens two decades ago I was born. Whoop dee doo. If anyone should be getting the attention, it should be my mom...she did all the work after all.

Despite the fact that I have no plans for my birthday this year (the only plans I did have I had to cancel, unfortunately) I shall rise to the occasion. If that means I bring balloons and cupcakes to wherever I go to celebrate, then so be it. Because darnit, I'm proud that I've survived this long on earth and I'm gonna enjoy myself.