Have you ever noticed how different the same type of show can be depending on which channel you’re watching?
The other night I was glued to my T.V. watching “Hoarders” on A&E. I can’t help it—I had to watch. It’s like a car wreck (and also gives me major incentive to clean which needed to be done after the holidays). So I’m watching this woman who is clearly mentally instable, attempt to clean out her “double-wide” so that she can live in it (apparently she has relegated herself to a “single-wide” trailer on the edge of her property because of all the garbage she keeps hoarding in the “double-wide”).
The fact that the woman goes back and forth between trailers keeps me glued to my couch in my condo in suburban Washington D.C.. It’s sick, really. And the folks at A&E know this—which is why the show runs all night on Monday nights (yes, I think there’s even a special marathon of “Hoaders” if you haven’t gotten your fill…).
So I’m staring at my T.V., absolutely disgusted and start to feel guilty that I’m mocking this woman from the comfort of my couch which, essentially, is just wrong. As I start to feel guilty,I decided to turn the channel and look for more “upbeat” programming and landed on the Style network. What do I start watching? “Clean House.”
I Need a Change of Programming
See a pattern here folks?
I did.
And it really struck how “Clean House” is basically the same show as “Hoarders”—with people just as nasty as the trailer-trash on A&E, but they live in Suburbia and their mess is their “dirty little secret.” And to top it off—they get a total home make-over. Now, instead of resisting the urge to clean my condo—I feel the urge to redecorate!
All of a sudden, I find myself upbeat! I’m ready to move furniture around! I’m ready to run out to Home Depot and start painting…
It floored me how two different angles on basically the same T.V. show can have such a different impact on your psyche. Call it the tricks of the T.V.—but when was the last time you really thought about what you watched and how it made you feel afterwards?
And to think I turn to the T.V. most nights to relax. Maybe it’s time to simply tune into the Nature Channel—where’s Marty Stouffer when you need him?!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Friday, December 31, 2010
Resolving Not to Make a Resolution This Year
Ugh, it’s here.
New Year’s Eve.
I don’t know why I’m so surprised. It arrives each and every year and forces me to look back and reflect on the year that was lived.
And each and every year (usually while I’m watching some “Year in Review” program) I inevitably think to myself, “Where does the time go?”
And right on cue, the panic sets in.
I start to count through a mental inventory of all the things I did not “achieve” -- loosing those extra 5 pounds, saving that extra $100, climbing the Mt. Everest (not that I ever planned to do that—but I do know friends who have…which makes me feel guilty that I haven’t even tried…)
This year, however, I had an epiphany (actually, it wasn’t as much an epiphany as it was a second glass of wine). I came to the conclusion that New Year’s Eve is simply one big guilt trip that we all just have to contend with each and every year.
Resolving Not to Make a Resolution
So this year, I’ve decided not to make another useless guilt-infested New Year’s Resolution. Yes, one could say I resolve not to make a resolution.
In fact, I’m not going to change my life at all—I’m simply going to start living it—the good, the bad and the ugly. After all, wasn’t it John Lennon who famously said, “Life is What Happens When You Are Busy Making Plans.”
Yup, it's time to stop all the "planning" and start working with what I got. And that’s what I intend to do.
No more guilt.
No more lofty unattainable resolutions.
It’s time to simply embrace whatever life throws at you and try to make the most out of it. So that’s what I intend to do.
We’ll see where I end up next year.
New Year’s Eve.
I don’t know why I’m so surprised. It arrives each and every year and forces me to look back and reflect on the year that was lived.
And each and every year (usually while I’m watching some “Year in Review” program) I inevitably think to myself, “Where does the time go?”
And right on cue, the panic sets in.
I start to count through a mental inventory of all the things I did not “achieve” -- loosing those extra 5 pounds, saving that extra $100, climbing the Mt. Everest (not that I ever planned to do that—but I do know friends who have…which makes me feel guilty that I haven’t even tried…)
This year, however, I had an epiphany (actually, it wasn’t as much an epiphany as it was a second glass of wine). I came to the conclusion that New Year’s Eve is simply one big guilt trip that we all just have to contend with each and every year.
Resolving Not to Make a Resolution
So this year, I’ve decided not to make another useless guilt-infested New Year’s Resolution. Yes, one could say I resolve not to make a resolution.
In fact, I’m not going to change my life at all—I’m simply going to start living it—the good, the bad and the ugly. After all, wasn’t it John Lennon who famously said, “Life is What Happens When You Are Busy Making Plans.”
Yup, it's time to stop all the "planning" and start working with what I got. And that’s what I intend to do.
No more guilt.
No more lofty unattainable resolutions.
It’s time to simply embrace whatever life throws at you and try to make the most out of it. So that’s what I intend to do.
We’ll see where I end up next year.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Braving Black Friday
Did you brave Black Friday this year?
I’m not a big Black Friday shopper. Honestly, I shop enough the rest of the year that I’m not about to wake up at 3:00 a.m. to run to Target. In fact, not a whole lot can get me up at 3:00 a.m. to go anywhere.
Backing Away from Black Friday
I just don’t get it.
Why would anyone want to shorten their Thanksgiving to camp outside a store just to get a good “deal”? The only deal that could ever make me camp out anywhere would be a "free" deal… on Jimmy Choo’s (which we all know will never happen, so thankfully I won’t be loosing any sleep anytime soon. Phew!)
Normally I stay home on Black Friday. I don’t brave the traffic, the crowds or the sales. But this year, I happened to be driving past my Old Navy and saw throngs of people coming out with bags and bags of… stuff.
I was curious.
I thought to myself, "If I get a parking spot in the next two minutes, I’ll just run in and see what they have on sale." Needless to say, I got the parking spot, so I went inside.
Big mistake.
I could not believe the crowds. The line for the dressing rooms wrapped all the way around the store and intersected with the check out line somewhere in the back of the boys’ department.
Really, People? Really?
What could possibly drive you to lose at least two hours of your life waiting on line? Five dollar t-shirts that are normally $7.50 any other day of the week? Fifteen dollar cargo pants that you probably have hanging in your closet?
I couldn’t believe it. And to think unemployment still hovers around an unprecedented 9% in this country.
At the end of the day, is it really worth it? Worth the stress? The frustration?
Not for me.
You know what I did on this Black Friday? I went home and did laundry. And it didn’t cost me a thing.
I’m not a big Black Friday shopper. Honestly, I shop enough the rest of the year that I’m not about to wake up at 3:00 a.m. to run to Target. In fact, not a whole lot can get me up at 3:00 a.m. to go anywhere.
Backing Away from Black Friday
I just don’t get it.
Why would anyone want to shorten their Thanksgiving to camp outside a store just to get a good “deal”? The only deal that could ever make me camp out anywhere would be a "free" deal… on Jimmy Choo’s (which we all know will never happen, so thankfully I won’t be loosing any sleep anytime soon. Phew!)
Normally I stay home on Black Friday. I don’t brave the traffic, the crowds or the sales. But this year, I happened to be driving past my Old Navy and saw throngs of people coming out with bags and bags of… stuff.
I was curious.
I thought to myself, "If I get a parking spot in the next two minutes, I’ll just run in and see what they have on sale." Needless to say, I got the parking spot, so I went inside.
Big mistake.
I could not believe the crowds. The line for the dressing rooms wrapped all the way around the store and intersected with the check out line somewhere in the back of the boys’ department.
Really, People? Really?
What could possibly drive you to lose at least two hours of your life waiting on line? Five dollar t-shirts that are normally $7.50 any other day of the week? Fifteen dollar cargo pants that you probably have hanging in your closet?
I couldn’t believe it. And to think unemployment still hovers around an unprecedented 9% in this country.
At the end of the day, is it really worth it? Worth the stress? The frustration?
Not for me.
You know what I did on this Black Friday? I went home and did laundry. And it didn’t cost me a thing.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Taking a Breather This Thanksgiving
I caught a glimpse of a Martha Stewart Thanksgiving Special the other day and she was drilling (yes, drilling…) holes in acorn squashes to make the “perfect holiday center piece.” She was actually having trouble holding those suckers down while trying to make it look “So Easy!”
I just can’t picture myself trying to DRILL a hole in the center of a squash so that I could have the “perfect” holiday centerpiece this Thanksgiving. Whatever happened to simply putting some candle holders out in the center of the table and hoping your 10-year old niece doesn’t knock them over reaching for the gravy?
The Holidays Are Here … Again
Yes, folks, the holidays are here … again. Which of course means more running around, more shopping, more eating, more stress, more debt … more of everything we don’t need. When you think about it, the Holidays should be a time when we strip our lives down to the bare essentials: Good Food, Close Family and Fun Friends.
But as a society we don’t. We run around cooking, cleaning, bitching, buying, stressing…and now drilling?
Don’t Buy into the Hype
When you sit back and actually watch some of these shows (or even segments on the local news) you really have to remind yourself that everyone of the hosts are trying to sell you something in the wrapper of a “Perfect Holiday”--when there is no such thing.
Actually, let me take that back: The perfect holiday is not what some marketing guru on Fifth Avenue wants you to believe. It’s not serving the perfect tasting turkey in the perfectly ironed outfit with perfectly behaved children sitting around the table waiting patiently to be served.
The Perfect Thanksgiving is Possible
The perfect Thanksgiving is one where you are able to afford the turkey, put your healthy kids in a timeout because they are over-tired and one in which you are able to actually sit down for five minutes and enjoy the taste of the meal you have been planning and cooking for days.
So this Thanksgiving, try not to stress. Be mindful (and truly Thankful) for what you have, the people around you and the meal you cooked. If you can sit back and smile at the meal before you and laugh with the company around you—it has been the “Perfect” Thanksgiving.
I just can’t picture myself trying to DRILL a hole in the center of a squash so that I could have the “perfect” holiday centerpiece this Thanksgiving. Whatever happened to simply putting some candle holders out in the center of the table and hoping your 10-year old niece doesn’t knock them over reaching for the gravy?
The Holidays Are Here … Again
Yes, folks, the holidays are here … again. Which of course means more running around, more shopping, more eating, more stress, more debt … more of everything we don’t need. When you think about it, the Holidays should be a time when we strip our lives down to the bare essentials: Good Food, Close Family and Fun Friends.
But as a society we don’t. We run around cooking, cleaning, bitching, buying, stressing…and now drilling?
Don’t Buy into the Hype
When you sit back and actually watch some of these shows (or even segments on the local news) you really have to remind yourself that everyone of the hosts are trying to sell you something in the wrapper of a “Perfect Holiday”--when there is no such thing.
Actually, let me take that back: The perfect holiday is not what some marketing guru on Fifth Avenue wants you to believe. It’s not serving the perfect tasting turkey in the perfectly ironed outfit with perfectly behaved children sitting around the table waiting patiently to be served.
The Perfect Thanksgiving is Possible
The perfect Thanksgiving is one where you are able to afford the turkey, put your healthy kids in a timeout because they are over-tired and one in which you are able to actually sit down for five minutes and enjoy the taste of the meal you have been planning and cooking for days.
So this Thanksgiving, try not to stress. Be mindful (and truly Thankful) for what you have, the people around you and the meal you cooked. If you can sit back and smile at the meal before you and laugh with the company around you—it has been the “Perfect” Thanksgiving.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Why the Federal Government Shouldn’t Make Promises They Can’t Keep
Have you ever had to get an answer out of the Federal Government?
When I’m forced to deal with the Federal Government, I don’t expect much. As an American citizen—you just can’t get your hopes up.
For example, when I go to the DMV, I expect to be there for most of the day; anytime I go to the Post Office, I expect to wait (only to be told to go to the back of the line since I didn’t have the correct size envelope). I could go on and on but I’m sure you get the gist.
Surprise, Surprise: Government Accountability!
So last week, I was pleasantly surprised to get a voicemail that said:
“Hi, you have reached the voicemail of (name/department). Your call is very important to me and I will return your call within the next 24 hours or the next business day. Thank you very much—and have a great day—I insist!”
Ok, the message was a little condescending. But hey—if she calls me back within 24 hours and provides the information I need—it will in fact, be a great day for me! And frankly, I couldn’t believe it that someone in the Government was actually doing their job and making themselves accountable!
Who would’ve ‘thunk’ it?
So, last week, I left a very nice voicemail with this woman, explaining my situation and hoping she could help me.
That was last Wednesday.
Being ‘Punk’d’ By the Feds is No Fun
So I call again on Friday afternoon, and leave a nice message. “Who knows?” I thought to myself, “I’m sure she’s very busy.” (And honestly, I don’t expect anything to get done on a Friday, in Washington, D.C.—I’ve lived in this area far too long and simply know better.)
Now that it’s Tuesday, and I’ve left three voicemails, I’m starting to feel l like I’ve been “Punk’d” by my government.
And now, I’m just pissed.
So this morning, I left the following voicemail:
“Hi (name). This is Lauren Tivnan … Again. As you know, I called you Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and yesterday. Your voicemail says that you’ll return my call within 24 hours or the next business day. Please don’t make promises to your constituents that you can’t keep. I would appreciate a call back…today…so that I can, indeed, have a good day…especially after you “insist” that I have one.”
I know I’ll never hear back from this woman. And she can take her “insistence” and her condescending voicemail (which she apparently never listens to)—and shove it up her a**. For those of you who want to hear the voicemail first hand—shoot me an email and I’ll give you the number.
I’m almost tempted to post it right here…and on Twitter, Facebook, other blogs… just inundate her with voicemails “insisting” that she have a good day—and more importantly, that she do her job.
When I’m forced to deal with the Federal Government, I don’t expect much. As an American citizen—you just can’t get your hopes up.
For example, when I go to the DMV, I expect to be there for most of the day; anytime I go to the Post Office, I expect to wait (only to be told to go to the back of the line since I didn’t have the correct size envelope). I could go on and on but I’m sure you get the gist.
Surprise, Surprise: Government Accountability!
So last week, I was pleasantly surprised to get a voicemail that said:
“Hi, you have reached the voicemail of (name/department). Your call is very important to me and I will return your call within the next 24 hours or the next business day. Thank you very much—and have a great day—I insist!”
Ok, the message was a little condescending. But hey—if she calls me back within 24 hours and provides the information I need—it will in fact, be a great day for me! And frankly, I couldn’t believe it that someone in the Government was actually doing their job and making themselves accountable!
Who would’ve ‘thunk’ it?
So, last week, I left a very nice voicemail with this woman, explaining my situation and hoping she could help me.
That was last Wednesday.
Being ‘Punk’d’ By the Feds is No Fun
So I call again on Friday afternoon, and leave a nice message. “Who knows?” I thought to myself, “I’m sure she’s very busy.” (And honestly, I don’t expect anything to get done on a Friday, in Washington, D.C.—I’ve lived in this area far too long and simply know better.)
Now that it’s Tuesday, and I’ve left three voicemails, I’m starting to feel l like I’ve been “Punk’d” by my government.
And now, I’m just pissed.
So this morning, I left the following voicemail:
“Hi (name). This is Lauren Tivnan … Again. As you know, I called you Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and yesterday. Your voicemail says that you’ll return my call within 24 hours or the next business day. Please don’t make promises to your constituents that you can’t keep. I would appreciate a call back…today…so that I can, indeed, have a good day…especially after you “insist” that I have one.”
I know I’ll never hear back from this woman. And she can take her “insistence” and her condescending voicemail (which she apparently never listens to)—and shove it up her a**. For those of you who want to hear the voicemail first hand—shoot me an email and I’ll give you the number.
I’m almost tempted to post it right here…and on Twitter, Facebook, other blogs… just inundate her with voicemails “insisting” that she have a good day—and more importantly, that she do her job.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Sanity is Expensive
I’ve had a lot on my plate lately and each and every day it seems my patience (and anxiety level) is tested ...again. Since I seem to forever be at an impasse in this thing called “life” I thought it might be a good idea to give my therapist a call and have another session with her.
Me and “Dr. A”
I first contacted “Dr. A” while my mother was dying more than two years ago. Not only did I have to deal with my mother dying, I was worried about my elderly (and seriously hearing impaired father) taking care of her more than seven hours away from where I live. Mix in a very stressful job in one of the worst economies this country has seen since the Great Depression and the fact that I was single and worried that I’d be single for the rest of my life, meeting “Dr. A” really helped me make sense of it all. She helped me through the death or my mother and my father and helped me well, attempt to stay sane.
What to Do When Dr. A Goes Away
Fast forward to the present day, and I find myself needing to talk to her again to sort some things out (I won’t go into personal things now but I’ll just say that I really need to speak to an objective third party before I go postal…).
So I call her and there’s no answer. I email her, only to get a bounce back reply saying she closed up shop.
Just like that.
No notice.
No referral.
No more prescription refills.
I couldn’t believe it. The woman just shut down her practice without letting her patients know. What was I supposed to do now?
Shopping Around for Sanity
After I come to terms with the fact that “Dr. A” has gone away, I decide to take action. I called my cut-rate insurance to see what type of mental health counseling they cover, figuring they have to cover something, right?
Wrong.
The nice lady on the phone referred me to a few therapists-- all of whom are “out-of-network” which translates to: out-of-pocket. Not exactly what you are looking for when you are stressed to the max and looking for a new job. Regardless, I still call around to see who was accepting new patients and how much each visit will cost me.
Sanity is Expensive
Boy, was I in for a shocker.
Every therapist I called wanted $300+ for the initial consultation and $150+ for follow-up visits. Honestly, when I was done making my calls, I almost started to cry. I don’t think my surgeon charges that! And frankly, he deserves every cent he can get out of me!
I just can’t bring myself to pay that much for someone to listen to my problems. I think I would become even more stressed out and just plain pissed off that I was walking out of an office where it cost more than $300 just to get to know me and my problems (I may have problems and maybe stressed out at the moment, but I am by no means, functionally retarded. Anyone who pays that much to have a stranger listen to them must be...)
Identifying with the Criminally Insane
I can now see why people drink too much and shoot up offices. And you know what? I might just go buy a gun and join them.
Ok, I'm not really a violent person and I don’t necessarily agree with murdering random individuals at a former place of employment, but ... I can definitely identify where they are coming from. I’m pretty sure these folks didn’t have the out-of-pocket $300 to cover therapy either.
And it makes me sick (pardon the really bad play on words here) that our government is screwing around with health care. They can sit there and debate it for years to come ... and I’m sure they will.
After all, it doesn’t matter to them—-they can afford to.
Me and “Dr. A”
I first contacted “Dr. A” while my mother was dying more than two years ago. Not only did I have to deal with my mother dying, I was worried about my elderly (and seriously hearing impaired father) taking care of her more than seven hours away from where I live. Mix in a very stressful job in one of the worst economies this country has seen since the Great Depression and the fact that I was single and worried that I’d be single for the rest of my life, meeting “Dr. A” really helped me make sense of it all. She helped me through the death or my mother and my father and helped me well, attempt to stay sane.
What to Do When Dr. A Goes Away
Fast forward to the present day, and I find myself needing to talk to her again to sort some things out (I won’t go into personal things now but I’ll just say that I really need to speak to an objective third party before I go postal…).
So I call her and there’s no answer. I email her, only to get a bounce back reply saying she closed up shop.
Just like that.
No notice.
No referral.
No more prescription refills.
I couldn’t believe it. The woman just shut down her practice without letting her patients know. What was I supposed to do now?
Shopping Around for Sanity
After I come to terms with the fact that “Dr. A” has gone away, I decide to take action. I called my cut-rate insurance to see what type of mental health counseling they cover, figuring they have to cover something, right?
Wrong.
The nice lady on the phone referred me to a few therapists-- all of whom are “out-of-network” which translates to: out-of-pocket. Not exactly what you are looking for when you are stressed to the max and looking for a new job. Regardless, I still call around to see who was accepting new patients and how much each visit will cost me.
Sanity is Expensive
Boy, was I in for a shocker.
Every therapist I called wanted $300+ for the initial consultation and $150+ for follow-up visits. Honestly, when I was done making my calls, I almost started to cry. I don’t think my surgeon charges that! And frankly, he deserves every cent he can get out of me!
I just can’t bring myself to pay that much for someone to listen to my problems. I think I would become even more stressed out and just plain pissed off that I was walking out of an office where it cost more than $300 just to get to know me and my problems (I may have problems and maybe stressed out at the moment, but I am by no means, functionally retarded. Anyone who pays that much to have a stranger listen to them must be...)
Identifying with the Criminally Insane
I can now see why people drink too much and shoot up offices. And you know what? I might just go buy a gun and join them.
Ok, I'm not really a violent person and I don’t necessarily agree with murdering random individuals at a former place of employment, but ... I can definitely identify where they are coming from. I’m pretty sure these folks didn’t have the out-of-pocket $300 to cover therapy either.
And it makes me sick (pardon the really bad play on words here) that our government is screwing around with health care. They can sit there and debate it for years to come ... and I’m sure they will.
After all, it doesn’t matter to them—-they can afford to.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Having Your Cake... And Eating It Too
October is a big birthday month for several friends and family members. “Several” meaning like 20 people I know are celebrating their birthdays. From friends to family, it seems everyone’s parents got in the groove while ringing in the New Year. What strikes me about celebrating a birthday is that as you get older, the more they begin to well, inevitably suck.
Baby Birthdays are Simply The Best
For example, I know a baby that just turned 1—a great age for a birthday in my opinion. You’re fed cake, you’re dressed in your finest and people think it’s cute when the cake gets all over your face. At the age of 1 you are just happy that someone cared enough to change your diaper. Life is pretty good.
Fast forward to the age of say, 11, and it’s not cool to admit you have a birthday coming up but you think about it, remind your mom about it and learn how to plan a party. Gone are the days of diapers and cake replaced with the angst of learning how to send out e-vites (no kid gets paper invites anymore apparently) and trying to persuade your mother into having 14 of your “closest” friends over for a sleep over and of course, cake. Details don’t matter—as in who will actually be invited—just invite all the girls in your class and see who makes it through the night without wanting to go home. Oh—and the birthday invite is an equal-opportunity invite: you have to invite all the girls whether you like everyone or not. Because that’s what you just do.
Pre-Adolescent Party Planning Starts
When you get to the age of 15 you just want to hang with the buddies you see each and every day. That usually totals a pack of say, 4-6 pre-adolescents who frankly are just looking to get into some kind of trouble. Cutting the cake is usually relegated to after a family dinner as the parents worry about what type of birthday to throw for their 15 year-old who just wants to learn how to drive already. He/She starts hinting at getting a car—like “so-and-so” who’s a Junior at their school and who frankly, isn’t responsible enough to drive one. Parents start to get anxious about properly teaching their children to drive wondering if everyone else thinks the same thing about their child (quietly admitting to themselves that the extra driver would help with the endless amount of car pooling they currently have to do…).
Twenty-One …or Bust
When you approach the age of twenty one, the birthday celebration peaks. The anxiety of having to get into those college bars with your older brother/sister’s fake I.D. is finally over and finally you can let loose and drink all you want…any time you want.
In fact, you actually revert to the age of 1 during the big night out—wear that funny hat, dirty-up your face with either cake (if your friends had the foresight to buy you one) or more likely, the whipped topping of your 10th shot as you attempt to make it to 21. Wearing a diaper during these exploits may not be a bad idea because inevitably, after 10 or 12 shots (no matter who you are) at one point in the night, you’ll lose all control of your bowels.
After the big 2-1, birthday celebrations start to spiral downhill. Planning takes on a whole new level of significance and may take weeks. Long gone are the days where you can have 14 of your closest friends over for a sleep over, or party like a rock star at the age of 21, because in fact in your mind, you are one.
Here Comes the Reality Check
As you get older (post-twenty-five or so), birthdays take on a whole different significance. In fact, no matter who you talk to, they begin to well … suck.
Organizing the event becomes a logistical nightmare as you try to plan a night out at a restaurant no one has tried only to find out that their menu does not comply with the plethora of dietary restrictions your group of friends may (or frankly, may not…) have.
You worry how many people can even swing by for a drink to help you celebrate. Half the time they do for an hour or so, and the other half they want to “re-schedule” for next week (like that you really want to celebrate your birthday on their schedule instead of, you know, the day you were born). And without fail, you start to take stock in your life: You worry about getting married if your single, having kids if you don’t have them and how badly that Botox shot could possibly hurt and more importantly, why you’ve waited so long to make the appointment.
Bring On the Diaper
Yes, my friends, from here on out—birthdays go downhill in a death-like spiral until about the age of say, eighty. That’s when you’re just happy to be alive. I hope by the ripe old age of eighty, I’ve learned how to appreciate the life God has given me and more importantly, how to have my cake and it too (regardless of whether I’m sitting in a diaper or not).
Baby Birthdays are Simply The Best
For example, I know a baby that just turned 1—a great age for a birthday in my opinion. You’re fed cake, you’re dressed in your finest and people think it’s cute when the cake gets all over your face. At the age of 1 you are just happy that someone cared enough to change your diaper. Life is pretty good.
Fast forward to the age of say, 11, and it’s not cool to admit you have a birthday coming up but you think about it, remind your mom about it and learn how to plan a party. Gone are the days of diapers and cake replaced with the angst of learning how to send out e-vites (no kid gets paper invites anymore apparently) and trying to persuade your mother into having 14 of your “closest” friends over for a sleep over and of course, cake. Details don’t matter—as in who will actually be invited—just invite all the girls in your class and see who makes it through the night without wanting to go home. Oh—and the birthday invite is an equal-opportunity invite: you have to invite all the girls whether you like everyone or not. Because that’s what you just do.
Pre-Adolescent Party Planning Starts
When you get to the age of 15 you just want to hang with the buddies you see each and every day. That usually totals a pack of say, 4-6 pre-adolescents who frankly are just looking to get into some kind of trouble. Cutting the cake is usually relegated to after a family dinner as the parents worry about what type of birthday to throw for their 15 year-old who just wants to learn how to drive already. He/She starts hinting at getting a car—like “so-and-so” who’s a Junior at their school and who frankly, isn’t responsible enough to drive one. Parents start to get anxious about properly teaching their children to drive wondering if everyone else thinks the same thing about their child (quietly admitting to themselves that the extra driver would help with the endless amount of car pooling they currently have to do…).
Twenty-One …or Bust
When you approach the age of twenty one, the birthday celebration peaks. The anxiety of having to get into those college bars with your older brother/sister’s fake I.D. is finally over and finally you can let loose and drink all you want…any time you want.
In fact, you actually revert to the age of 1 during the big night out—wear that funny hat, dirty-up your face with either cake (if your friends had the foresight to buy you one) or more likely, the whipped topping of your 10th shot as you attempt to make it to 21. Wearing a diaper during these exploits may not be a bad idea because inevitably, after 10 or 12 shots (no matter who you are) at one point in the night, you’ll lose all control of your bowels.
After the big 2-1, birthday celebrations start to spiral downhill. Planning takes on a whole new level of significance and may take weeks. Long gone are the days where you can have 14 of your closest friends over for a sleep over, or party like a rock star at the age of 21, because in fact in your mind, you are one.
Here Comes the Reality Check
As you get older (post-twenty-five or so), birthdays take on a whole different significance. In fact, no matter who you talk to, they begin to well … suck.
Organizing the event becomes a logistical nightmare as you try to plan a night out at a restaurant no one has tried only to find out that their menu does not comply with the plethora of dietary restrictions your group of friends may (or frankly, may not…) have.
You worry how many people can even swing by for a drink to help you celebrate. Half the time they do for an hour or so, and the other half they want to “re-schedule” for next week (like that you really want to celebrate your birthday on their schedule instead of, you know, the day you were born). And without fail, you start to take stock in your life: You worry about getting married if your single, having kids if you don’t have them and how badly that Botox shot could possibly hurt and more importantly, why you’ve waited so long to make the appointment.
Bring On the Diaper
Yes, my friends, from here on out—birthdays go downhill in a death-like spiral until about the age of say, eighty. That’s when you’re just happy to be alive. I hope by the ripe old age of eighty, I’ve learned how to appreciate the life God has given me and more importantly, how to have my cake and it too (regardless of whether I’m sitting in a diaper or not).
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