I love birthdays.
I love my birthday; I love other people's birthdays; I love birthdays of institutions and events and small animals. I enjoy reflecting over the past year and contemplating all of the things that have changed -- and all of the things that haven't. My friends' birthdays lead me to write sappy letters and plan silly surprises. My own birthday makes me want to introduce different friend groups to one another and makes me hope for a pony.
Every year, I take June 29th as a time to reflect on the phases of my life -- like a flip book of just birthday time. I can close my eyes and see the time I sent back a slice of cake to the cook I had a crush on at Texas Roadhouse (and all the chaos that followed that choice). I imagine sitting in the kitchen floor with my late friend Christy eating raw cookie dough at 2am after a night of karaoke and lap dances. I picture the photos (because I can't quite claim to remember) of dancing and tequila shots in Madrid.
My first birthday in San Diego was hard. Paul Green was my only friend at the time, and I couldn't quite remember why I left the terrazas of Spain for law school (I still can't exactly). Paul got some of his friends together for me, and they rallied to give me a very sweet birthday dinner even though they barely knew me. I'll always remember that fondly.
Having just moved to Anchorage 5 months ago, I feel so so blessed to see so many people come out for my birthday this year. It was a fun mini-review of how lucky I've been to build this life in this weird place! The little segments of my life came together -- puppies in tow -- to celebrate one more year of life.
Cheers :).
I love my birthday; I love other people's birthdays; I love birthdays of institutions and events and small animals. I enjoy reflecting over the past year and contemplating all of the things that have changed -- and all of the things that haven't. My friends' birthdays lead me to write sappy letters and plan silly surprises. My own birthday makes me want to introduce different friend groups to one another and makes me hope for a pony.
Every year, I take June 29th as a time to reflect on the phases of my life -- like a flip book of just birthday time. I can close my eyes and see the time I sent back a slice of cake to the cook I had a crush on at Texas Roadhouse (and all the chaos that followed that choice). I imagine sitting in the kitchen floor with my late friend Christy eating raw cookie dough at 2am after a night of karaoke and lap dances. I picture the photos (because I can't quite claim to remember) of dancing and tequila shots in Madrid.
My first birthday in San Diego was hard. Paul Green was my only friend at the time, and I couldn't quite remember why I left the terrazas of Spain for law school (I still can't exactly). Paul got some of his friends together for me, and they rallied to give me a very sweet birthday dinner even though they barely knew me. I'll always remember that fondly.
Having just moved to Anchorage 5 months ago, I feel so so blessed to see so many people come out for my birthday this year. It was a fun mini-review of how lucky I've been to build this life in this weird place! The little segments of my life came together -- puppies in tow -- to celebrate one more year of life.
Cheers :).
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