The Birthday Bitch

Is there anyone else out there in TVland who absolutely hates their birthday?  I’m totally cool with getting another year older.  Actually, at my stage of life, another year closer to Social Security is awesome.  I’m also at the stage where I would like my birthday to be about what I like best – having a nice mellow day, perhaps celebrating with a few friends or family, but no . . . it’s always got to be a complete clusterfuck.  For those of you who hate strong language, I apologize, but I really cannot think of a better word to describe it.

My family is prone to give over-extravagant gifts.  I actually don’t need any presents.  I don’t want any presents.  I just want to BE — preferably out somewhere in nature.  I’ll be sixty years old next year (how the hell did that happen?) and I have already decided that the dog and I are going to the coast.  By OURSELVES!  I’ll spare you the details, but this year I was in need of a sewing table for the spare room so I could get my sewing machine off the kitchen table.  I decided to buy it when I went to pick my sister up at the train station in Portland — just swinging over to Ikea to pick up a desk I had selected on line.  Well, I ended up exiting the store with my birthday gift — a table for sewing that is not at all what I wanted.  I agreed to today’s celebration which was to meet at a local eatery for breakfast, but that too went south quickly as both of my sisters are of the sort (bless them, as they will save the planet) who do not want to drive and prefer to take public transport or hitch a ride with someone else who is going their way.  This of course resulted in lots of “we’ll be late because we have to wait for so and so,” and “we’ll need to come wait at your house till so and so picks us up,” etc.  I just wanted brunch and then to come straight home so I could get back to work.

I don’t like my sisters to visit my house.  I know — what an awful thing to say, right?  But, alas, it is true.  I am not (and I’ve told you all this a million times) the world’s best housekeeper.  My sisters, on the other hand, are OCD clean freaks who have to constantly adjust, rearrange, poke at, and move my things when they are at my house.  It makes me feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, so I do my best to avoid having them here.  And, on my birthday, especially, I would prefer that they not come over, so I don’t have to stress about the house.  Well, not only did their travel arrangements necessitate that they stop by, but the other ‘gift’ I received at breakfast was the promise to come over and do whatever I would like them to do — clean, paint, yard work, etc., even though I have told them a million and a half times (and that might be a literal accounting) that I do not want them poking in my stuff.  ARGH.

So, now I am in a horribly foul mood.  Ozzie and I just got home from the dog park — the very best part of the day so far.  I’m going upstairs now to turn the music up very loud and quilt.  Maybe I’ll feel better after that!  Do remind me to go somewhere by myself next year.  I hate becoming the ungrateful bitch on my birthday!

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3 thoughts on “The Birthday Bitch

  1. Oh, Linda … I hear you loud and clear! Happy Birthday from another birthday hater. Unfortunately, I have a spouse, children and grands plus extended family, so am not able to “duck” the “celebration”.
    I think next year you and Ozzie might just go on holiday for a fortnight from Aug 15 through Labor Day weekend. Go to the coast or east to the mountains and just enjoy being able to breathe and relax!

  2. First, I want to wish you happy compliments on your birthday! (Isn’t that how they say it in Spanish?) I don’t hate my birthday, I do embrace it and all the wrinkles and gray hair. Shows I have been alive for these 60 years and had trials and happiness during that time. When I was little, my Dear Mother made a celebration of my day. A party just for me. As I grew older, the parties fell off, but she made sure I felt special on that day. She made my favorite meals and we always had cake. When I no longer lived at home, she always called and sent a card. My DH and DS could care less, and think that a birthday is just another day in the week, although I have always tried to make them feel special on that day. I think that it is “your day to celebrate” just how you want to. Do something special for you as you want. So going to the coast, just you and Ozzie is the thing to do. Tell the others that you love them and thanks for caring, but you are going off to celebrate on your own. Just tell them that you have a “bucket list” to fulfill afterall and need to get on with that. Let me tell you 60 marks a new decade that you have been here, and you should do what you want, even if it is vegetate at home. LOL Hope next year is better for you!

    • Thanks Sara! To tell you the truth, I was thinking of telling them I was going to the coast, and then just staying home! That’s more my style. We managed to iron a few things out. Ozzie and I are actually going to Portland tomorrow to return the desk I didn’t want and get the one I did want. We’ll stop at the hardware store on the way back, so I can pick up the paint for the sewing room too. I’m finally going to get this place fixed up the way I want it. ;D

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