happy birthday...

Good God, do I hate my birthday. Seriously. I've rarely had a "great" birthday. I think the last "great" birthday was my 21st, and I t-totalled my Mustang the Saturday following. Don't get me wrong; it's not that they've all been bad. But, none of them have been really memorable, and if they were memorable, it wasn't really in a good way. Better off forgotten type stuff. Regardless, there's a part of me that just nimbles around on egg shells as my looming birthday ticks down the days. I always enjoy it though, but again, not near as much as I have enjoyed Halloween or Valentine's Day.

I remember Halloweens. I remember trick or treating when it was snowing out, all bundled up in winter jackets that were way too bulky, running happy as a school girl (or was I a school girl?!?! oh right) and collecting candy and caramel corn balls (back when no one was worried that the little old lady that made them was the witch out of Hanzel and Gretel). It was a great Halloween. I remember dressing up as flappers with sorority sisters and making a huge night of it. I remember dressing up as Magenta and driving up to Ann Arbor for the Annual "Rocky Horror Picture Show" Midnight Show. I remember my ex and I winning first prize at a Halloween party, me as the prego pimp and him as a whore--he played the part well. (Hmmm, in hindsight, perhaps for good reason!!!)

Even more recently, I dressed as the Black Queen from X-Men. Not a character that the general public is familiar with, but to my surprise and sheer delight a little boy, maybe 8 to 10 years old, ran up on me all excited as his mother looked like she was going into complete shock and exclaimed in glee, "You're the Black Queen!!!"

I replied in character, "Why, of course I am."

"Your majesty." He made a little bow. (How cute!!!) And spun on his heels, ran to his mom and dad, and exclaimed, "She's the Black Queen!! She's the Black Queen!!!" (From the mother's look, I suspect she went home and went through those comic books pretty thoroughly. The Black Queen isn't exactly dressed morally.)

I love Halloween!! It's the one time of year that you can be anyone that you want to be for a few hours. I suspect that it only dis-appeals to those that are completely uncomfortable being themselves, let alone anyone else. I personally find it liberating to pretend to be a comic book heroine, or villain for that matter. Why not? This year I'm thinking about going as a "spoiled brat"--maybe something out of a 1930s movie. Why? Well, whenever I've moved, I have put up with the same stereotypes over and over and over. The first couple of years are always the same. General assumptions about what I must be--someone must pay my bills, my ex must pay a buttload of child support and alimony (child support that has remained the same since originally ordered in 1996, mind you), slut (I gotta assume this is because I'm kinda cute and single, which is simply the dumbest reason to assume someone's a slut--really in most cases sluts almost always have someone on a leash), probably cheated on my ex (other way around actually), and so on and so on and so on. By about 3 years, people start to "see" the real me and generally I find out that some of the people that initially seemed to be my friends, well, they weren't. Move again and repeat. The move to Kansas wasn't much different.

But, I'm an independent, self-made woman. I put myself through college in spite of coming from a family that could've paid for it (of course, they would've had I not been the stubborn snit I was). Maybe I was a spoiled little princess at one time--like when I was 12--and, maybe, I'd like to be someone's spoiled princess now--what woman doesn't wish someone would love her as much as her father did when she was a little girl? (Don't go all perverse on me here people...geez) So, I think it'd be a hoot to be a "spoiled little princess" for a night. It's not who I am, probably not even who I'd like to be, but fun for an evening, nonetheless. Fun is what makes Halloween so amazing!!

I know I also stated Valentine's Day. Well, sad but true, I'm a horribly hopeless romantic. I believe in the "happily ever after". There's got to be something to be said about never losing hope. Valentine's Day, of course, has mutated into the romantic holiday it is, but it's not about the origins or the original meaning or whether some card company turned it into what it is today. For me, it's just that day of the year where we can all cherish true love, or at least the idea of it. When I was younger, Valentine's was often a pretty good day for me--flowers, candy, candlelight dinners. As I got older, well, even my poor choice in men always knew how to make Valentine's special. (Either that or they know I'd dump them if they screwed up my second favorite day of the year!!) But even when I haven't been dating anyone, Valentine's hasn't "sucked". It's the day of hope. Almost like a new year. My grandmother and I used to fill out cards. It was usually the day before, because I'd have to take the cards to school. We'd talk and laugh and usually make cupcakes or cookies. It was always nice. Even as I got older, and even now.

But back to birthdays. A year older--not so bad. Yet, always like a black cloud drifting in slowly from the west. Yesterday, another birthday. Another year older. It's funny, but it's not the old part that bothers me. Maybe it's the part about being forgotten. Sometimes, it's about wanting it to be forgotten, and sometimes it's about wanting it to be remembered. This year, neither. It's just not that special without having someone that thinks it's that special. Halloween is always special, and enough people agree to make it special. Valentine's is special even if it's painful. Birthdays are only as special as the people around you make it. Probably should spend my birthdays alone, then I can make them as special as I want to make them.