Date of Birth

Mood: Preoccupied
Drinking: In-between drinks

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to outgrow birthdays. I blame it on my Dad. When I was growing up, he was always the first to get excited about his own birthday, even singing “Happy Birthday to Me” weeks before the big day.

I think it’s genetic. I do the same thing. When I called my Mom last week the day before my birthday and sang the birthday song to myself, I could hear her eyes rolling. “You’re as bad as your father,” she said.

But I can’t help it. There’s just something magical about my birthday, no matter how high the numbers go. You just walk the whole day with a kind of glow about you, passing strangers with a smile, half expecting them to know what day it is and to stop and offer their well wishes.

So even when the number is 73, my birthday will probably still be a big day for me. The day that’s all about me, unapologetically, all day long. This year, that day was last Friday, and I made the most of it, even dragging it out into the weekend. (I called it my birthday weekend.)

My friends didn’t disappoint. They lined up with long-distance phone calls, an extended lunch-hour shopping spree, completely unnecessary but totally appreciated gifts, and even an ear-splitting Christina Aguilera-like rendition of the birthday song, courtesy of my adorable sister.

Of course, the “birthday weekend” was made even better by the addition of a film festival, complete with a Best Female Filmmaker award that was appropriately shiny and now sits in my dining room awaiting a good polishing.

So here’s to all my friends and family, who put up with my annual birthday antics. And to Boy, who never fails to weather the event with good humor, and this year went so far as to bake me a homemade ginger cake that was quite possibly the best thing I’ve tasted all year long. Heart shapes to all of you.

-Lo, who now turns her attention to the stockpile of supplies for the upcoming European adventure. Maps? Check! Guidebooks? Check! Outlet adapter thingie? Check! Supercute Red Hat for Parisian Cafe Outing? Check!