This year, I felt like keeping my birthday low-key. To be completely honest, I haven't really cared to celebrate my birthday much in the past decade or so. It's a mix of feelings. It's not that I'm grumpy about being another year older, and I do love celebrations ... but I guess being center of attention and making a big deal out of me makes me uncomfortable. Yet, I do appreciate feeling special. Then there's the hassle of organizing. Yet, it isn't really that much work at all. Does any of that make sense? Hence, a mix of feelings. So, for many years in a row, I had chosen to travel during my birthday. My birthday being in November makes it a good travel month (because the weather starts to get dreary and requesting time off isn't so hard. Not to mention that it isn't high season in a lot of places making it for better prices). So, when I stay in town, half the people I'd normally celebrate with are gone anyway. And when I really think about it, all I care is to hang out with the people I care about. So, I thought I'd postpone "celebrating" until people are free. But Jen, who's already got the "free night pass" from baby duties from her husband, insisted we had to go out on the night of my birthday. And so we did. (Next post).
But before that, I always give birthdays as a reason to treat myself. Some years it could be something expensive, I'm not gonna lie. (Like last year's Nikon D600). But, I can get happiness from small things too. I went out to a Maxim's bakery, and waited for some piping hot egg tarts to come out of the oven, and bought myself half a dozen. When I sunk my teeth into the flakey crust and warm custard, I was in total bliss. That's all I needed to call it a good birthday.