So I recently celebrated my birthday towards the end of January, and here are a few things I always struggle with when celebrating my birthday.
Firstly, January is considered the longest month of the year, and on top of that, my birthday falls at the end of the month, a day or two before payday, depending on how much the human resources department loves you and which bank you joll with.
Anyway, over the years I am used to “happy birthday,” or “we wish you many more”.
Salutations and wishes that come empty-handed most of the time. You know I’m one of those whose birthday was only celebrated by my mom, being the firstborn and all.
It’s sad, hey, considering how much effort I put in.
But in the past few years I have found myself becoming a person who treats my birthday as their own, claims gifts (which still hardly come) left, right and centre, and ends up actually enjoying the day.
This year I thought about doing it differently. I decided to celebrate the whole week: seven days of mini ‘festivities’, and surprise surprise, I financed it all, planned it all and it was all on me.
No one came and asked what I wanted for my birthday and made the effort to provide that, nix! Inasmuch as I would have loved to do this with people, I learnt something, which I hope you take away after reading this mini sad soliloquy.
If you don’t do what you want, what you enjoy, you might miss out. I decided to write down what foods I loved eating, and therefore, this week was filled with my faves, mostly homemade.
A tiny fraction came from other sources, suffice to say I do not own a wine farm in the back of my yard. We are not at those types of levels – yet.
The first day I managed to convince my sister, by some miracle, that it had been a while since she had spoiled me, allowing me to ask for whatever I desired. On the menu for dinner? Homemade tacos.
I need to get you the recipe in a totally different article, they deserve their own space – they were that good.
Homemade everything, the freshest ingredients, what’s not to love? I ended up doing most of the cooking, but didn’t mind as I was in the kitchen with those who matter to me.
A guy at the wine store oversold a blend I thought tasted flat and unimaginative.
I went against everything I stand for in wine, the main one being trust your own gut and stay away from wine store recommendations from people whose experience with wine might just be brought on by price tags and commissions.
Never again. This was only because I couldn’t secure my favourite bottle of wine at the time and my second favourite, and therefore had to compromise.
The second and third days focused more on breakfast and brunch eats, making clever use of leftovers from the previous day.
Day 4 was an excursion to a burger joint in the the city, with day 5 being braai day. Day 6 was cake day, because we just had to end off on a high note. One cake wouldn’t do. No. Three cakes were ideal, and were the end result of my week of indulgence.
I trashed all my resolutions about eating right this year and watching my diet, especially during this period. I finished off the week with a bigger belly, a heavier bod, but a fuller heart, which this was all about at the end of the day. Do what makes you happy.
My sister told me something during this week as I panicked about what to do when for my birthday.
Time is arbitrary and a barrier we make for ourselves, even when the need does not exist.
So, who cares if your birthday celebrations last two months?
