I’ve been given some extra special attention this birthday. Thank you to all of the friends and family who acknowledged the day is some way or another. Cards, meals, well wishes—all were appreciated. But I did get a few extraordinary items that I feel need to be mentioned.
His and her undies. I have to say, didn’t expect that one. I’ll let all of my gift-givers remain anonymous unless I hear otherwise, but it was quite the surprise to find this in the mailbox.
Camera for the collection. Over time I’ve acquired quite a few cameras from various thrift stores and garage sales, so I was delighted to be entrusted with one more, one so different from the rest.
The gag gift of all gags. Apparently there was some super sale at a dollar store which included these sweet little sponges supposedly to provide a little extra support. The waiter wasn’t sure what to think when I unwrapped this one.
Happy Birthday to me. Yep, I got a gift for myself. I’d been wanting to own this since the minute I finished watching it the first time. Lo’ and behold, the day before my birthday it was on sale at Target. If you haven’t seen it, please do—the cover is misleading but I promise it is so much more than a couple’s love story.
A little piece of home. At the end of the night, the hubby gave me this long desired necklace to show some state pride. The photo is clearly a selfie and the lighting is poor, but happy to share it anyway.
For the past few weeks I have thought a lot about this post. Something about turning 25 seems to matter and tomorrow that’s just what I’ll do. I don’t often put a lot of stock in birthdays and typically don’t even let people know it’s happening. My husband can probably tell you about times when we have gone to hang out with people or been at a party and I forbade him to tell anyone that it was my birthday. I don’t really know why, but I’ve kept it more or less secret for awhile. This year I opened the flood gates and made my birthday visible to the masses on Facebook.
Years ago, while studying abroad in college I remember missing a surprise party for someone back home. He was turning 25, and it felt monumental to me at the time. The quarter century mark. We had a fair amount in common, and I looked up to him and respected him (still do, although I haven’t seen him in years). It just felt like something was really happening in his life at that turning point, and I don’t really know why I felt that way or what it was.
As I sit here eating cold pizza and writing a blog on the eve of my birthday I’ve never felt more like a millennial. Not only do I typically hide my birthday, but I often avoid revealing my age. I’ve felt older than my real age since kindergarten. Looking younger than I am never helps, but my friends are almost all older. My adulthood seemed to start sooner between being financially independent after high school, graduating college early and getting married young. I hate being belittled for my age. Yet, here I am, embodying the status quo of a millennial. No job but plenty educated, no idea where I’m going in life, chasing happiness and freelancing on the side. Being married in this time of unemployment has kept me from retreating to my mother’s basement, thankfully.
In the weeks leading up to tomorrow I had hoped something would come to me—an understanding of what this milestone birthday meant or some pearl of wisdom to share. Alas, I have little to offer there. This birthday still feels big though, like something has to happen or is happening. I almost expect to wake up in the morning and actually feel different.
I’m no longer a teenager and haven’t been one for more years than I spent in high school. I’ve been driving for over a decade yet still panic whenever I see a police car. I live with the man I married but am constantly amazed by the power of love. I leave clothes on the floor more often than not but never go a day without making the bed. I like my hair long and seldom wear makeup. Drinking has lost its luster, but I know which wines I most prefer. I have a good group of friends and like to think I am one in return. Budgeting has allowed me (us) to be debt-free, but I still fall prey to a $20 dress in Target almost every time I’m there. I go to the grocery store weekly, but almost never cook. My watch is worn almost daily, but I always seem to be running at least five minutes late. I love writing but will put it off for days for no good reason other than my own insecurities. I have learned a few things about myself but don’t always recognize the person in the mirror.
The next stage in life is a total mystery, when up until this point I always had some sort of plan. Something is happening, but I guess I will have to tell you what it is later. Welcome to 25.
Today marks one week of sleeping in one place, a first in the last five weeks. It just so happens to have been one week in our new place. Other than about a room and a half, we’ve unpacked quite a bit and are starting to settle in. We even went so far as having our first house guests, first sleepover and first party in our home this weekend.
Somehow, I managed to organize a “surprise” party for the hubby today in celebration of his upcoming birthday. To do so, I invited everyone we knew in the state and thankfully, all seven of them came. This included a sister, brother-in-law, niece and nephew as well as…oh, how to explain this connection…a good friend’s older sister and her husband and almost-two-year-old daughter who are now becoming our good friends, too. No one lives in town, so I’m quite grateful they all made the trek out, and he was more surprised than I could have hoped.
We had pie and ice cream, sang as he blew out all 25 candles and went swimming in the pool afterwards. All of the elements of a good birthday party were there, really. All in all, it was a fantastic day and a great way to celebrate with those now closest to us. Now, hours later, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that we live here. I know we’ve been gone awhile and have started trying new things and places, but maybe it’s actually more odd to consider that we aren’t going back. Or at least not for a long while, if ever. Sure, we’ll probably visit at some point in the distant future, but as it stands now, not to live there. I think today was the first day I really thought about the fact that “we aren’t there” more than the “we are here.” This isn’t merely a trip we’ll recount with Iowa people when we get back. We might talk on the phone or skype with them about some of the details, but the more and more we live farther away, the less and less our average everyday lives will overlap. It’s sad and strange and true all at once. With that loss has to come the establishment of new routines, new traditions and new people. But in the interim, it’s a strange thing to consider. On a birthday, it’s easier to notice the difference between this one from the last one, or even the difference in our lives since my birthday a couple months ago. While I’m so glad we got to celebrate his birthday with our favorite people in the state, it did cause me to recognize some of the voids as well. We live here now, not there. We live here, not there.
