As I mentioned before, Kendra offered up the idea of writing posts about my various birthdays for the June Creativity Challenge and as I also mentioned in that same post,  I can’t remember them well thanks to the whole bundling of Christmas with my birthday.

Sure, there are a few that definitely stick out.  When I turned 10, my father threw a surprise party for me and about 5 minutes after everyone yelled surprise, you know the point where you’re kind of settled in and maybe the surprise-iness of the situation has worn off, my 6 year old cousin Kim burst out of the restroom yelling “surprise”.  She still gets teased.  Mental note: “Must jump out of the bathroom yelling “surprise” next time I see Kim.” That will be a surprise!   The only other surprise “party” came when I dropped by my parents sometime after college and found my roommate asleep along with a lovely homemade chocolate cake with crunched up peppermints on top waiting for me.  I think I got in trouble for being late.  Who knew?

Around 30, I completely came to terms with the fact that I would never see my friends on my actual birth day – something about them wanting to be with their own families blah blah blah, so I started throwing parties for myself.  I got this from Dad whose parties had become quite the event over the years.  (He was born on St. Patrick’s Day).

So every year, about a week before Christmas, my friends gather together and we roller skate, bowl, stroll, dine or go see a show– all fun, but mostly uneventful events – not worth an individual blog.  Sure, a few things have happened over the years. Like the time that gal broke her arm at the skating rink and we didn’t go with her to the hospital opting for ice cream instead.  (Hey, that’s what her husband was there for – why ruin a perfectly good celebration by moping about in an ER?  Hello! She’d want us to trooper on without her.)  There was the time I groped my friend April’s boob accidentally thinking Jay was behind me – that’s the story  I’m sticking to, at least.  Then there was the time I dramatically burst into tears because I was so touched and overwhelmed by a gift. (Mortifying!  People don’t describe me as “stoic” because of my emotional outbursts. My image tarnished thanks to an unexpected shadow box.)  Really, there’s truly nothing like sobbing through an explanation of why a gift meant  so much in an  incomprehensible voice and punctuating each sentence with a sad, red, drippy gross face.  Thankfully Anna  took charge of all gifts at that point grilling the giver before handing it to me with, “is this going to make Beth cry?!?!!”

The only other birthday of note would have to be this last year when our waitress quit mid-service for no apparent reason unless you count my asking for silverware. (You can read about it here)  Craziest thing ever.

This year I’m thinking karaoke or maybe something to do with improv (like for example, I’d like The Knuckleball Now to perform at my birthday – just saying – I mean if you were looking for ideas and wanted to get a head start on saving.)

And this year, like every year, we’ll end it with a little “Dancing Queen”.