The birthday blahs

This is the second in what appears to be the beginnings of a series of unimportant birthdays.

I am twenty-three today. The age I always wanted to be when I was little. I used to write short stories where I was twenty-three and getting married to Spot Conlon from my favorite Disney film, "Newsies." At that time, he was twenty-three, so it only made sense. We would be twenty-three together and all would end well.

I don't really know whatever happened to him, but here I am. Twenty-three. And what have I done? Went to work. What will I do? Drink some tea, watch some television, and go to bed. Spot Conlon is probably somewhere in the midwest with his wife and children, doing the same thing (only with company). Hm.

I received a DVD (the Ciaran Hinds/Amando Root version of "Persuasion," a favorite of mine) in the mail, and a phone call from the sender (my cousin and best friend, Sharon). We had a chocolate fondue break in the afternoon at work to celebrate. A co-worker paid for my Boloco Bangkok burrito. And I have quite literally 20 facebook wall postings wishing me a happy birthday.

But that is all. True, I am going to leave Boston on Friday after work to spend time with my family in Maine (I haven't been since Christmas), and there will be a family party. Cake, presents, brothers making fun of each other...that will all be there. And then it will be done.

My Crohn's has been flaring of late, and my decision to eat a lunch that included a peanut sauce (a big fat no-no on my list of trigger foods) is causing me to not want to eat dinner. My PJs (albeit my favorite PJs) are already on. I have lit candles. This is it.

Last year was, hands-down, the worst birthday ever. I was discovered crying in the production office in the middle of a tech rehearsal by a cast member who I'm pretty sure has been scarred for life as a result. I don't cry in front of people, and the sight of me sobbing my little heart out in front of a giant poster of some show gone by is probably not something anybody should ever have to witness. Especially because of the result awkwardness that ensues when I try to pretend I am not crying.

There were a number of things that went wrong that day: no plans, unresolved boy drama, an unexpected tech rehearsal, Virginia Tech, rain, snow, early morning commitments, no sleep the night before--it was just a chain of very unfortunate events.

But that is all in the past. And I guess this blog should be about my present. Not presents, as it were, for I've only received one of those (which is pretty fabulous, incidentally, I have wanted to own Ciaran Hinds' Captain Wentworth for a long time now).

My present is okay. Sure, I wish my friends lived closer to me so that things could be celebrated properly. Yes, I really wish that today hadn't started with a crisis involving missing fruit salad for a board room meeting with some VIPs. Forgetting to return my DVD to the BPL today (Confetti...I recommend it) and facing a late fee is kind of annoying. And, okay, my Crohn's is quite a bother. Still. Today is supposed to be special. And I am going to make it so.

SPECIAL:
-The train was on time both ways today.
-I put effort into my appearance, and noticed that I was noticed. A lot. By men. Sometimes, an ego boost is only a blow-dry and pair of tights away.
-The weather. The weather. THE WEATHER. Sunshine on my face. Not rain, snow, clouds, wind...SUNSHINE. Heavenly.
-Free lunch. Free dessert. Actually eating all of the main food groups.
-Knowing I can go home to Maine (not technically home anymore, but so be it) soon.
-Not getting the rejection email from the call-backs I was just at yet (I guess there's still time...but...so far so good...I don't mind not getting cast, I just didn't want to be not-cast on my birthday).

It's not much, but it'll do.