Thanks, Friends! And Friends, the popular sitcom that ran from 1994 to 2004. You are all wonderful. I have really awesome friends, and they ensured I have the best birthday an aging woman can have.
Mary took advantage of the time difference so I was able to awake to several wonderful birthday surprises. A three month premium subscription to Spotify, which is my new boyfriend. Also, an iTunes gift and a hilarious e-card. Megan sent me a text at 6:30 in the morning. I was in a battle with the snooze button at the time, so it didn't really startle me. Also, I was sort of hoping work was calling to tell me not to come in. Either because the building indeed collapsed after the earthquake, or just because they knew it was birthday too and I deserved a day to myself. A text from Megan was just as good.
My mother called at 7. Of course she did- why wouldn't my mother call me at 7 in the morning? It's amusing, actually. I've accused her of forgetting my birthday in the past, so to prove she knew when it was and that nobody had to remind her, she wanted to call first thing in the morning.
My sister sent me a box full of socks. And I really needed socks, so this was a perfect gift. There were several different styles, all of which I like, and of multiple colors. And then for fun, a few AngryBirds socks. I can now throw away all my other socks. Every once in a while I have to just start over with socks, and she knew it was about time.
Lauri sent me an early morning text as well, and it made me smile all the way to work. My sister also text, to add to the sock extravaganza, as did Jayne. There were a few Facebook messages too, from Kelly, Ingrid, Mary, and Kathy, all before 8. The Facebook messages, texts, and cards continued to pour in throughout the day. They were all very nice. I attempted to reply to each one, creating a fun little game for myself.
Every year on my birthday, at some point I 1) tell the story about when I was too young to read and opened every card saying "Happy Birthday Nancy!" with as much fervor as I could muster, and 2) declare this is going to be my year. Sitting at lunch with Lauri I told her I was going to give the bartender my phone number because "32 is going to be my year!" A little while later a gentleman joined us and worked his way into our conversation. He guessed I was turning 24. I said he was kind.
As I was settling in for the evening, I popped in a Friends DVD- The One Where They All Turn Thirty. I try really hard to not dwell on how well they were doing when they were thirty. Also, I'm always reminded of a time when Mary and I were watching a rerun of Friends and I made the statement that I didn't think I looked older than they do. "Really?!" she said incredulously. And then the longest, most awkward silence ever. We're still friends though. It's ok.
I think 32 will be a good year for me. When I was a teenager, and even in my twenties, I figured 32 was the age I would be best at. Something about it just suits me.
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