I was so embarrassed that I missed your party

“It was me that paid for it, eventually” –Belle & Sebastian

I love being 30, I really do. I’m an age snob and I always think it’s better to be me than to be anybody else, in that sense. But today, my thirtieth has definitely been weirder than I expected, or hoped. A little sadder, to be honest. I think I’ve inherited my parents’ over-sensitivity and, against all logical beliefs, I kind of wish even strangers made some kind of a big deal over this special occasion. Like, don’t they know whose birthday it is?

Ridiculous.

Mi primer saludo me lo dio un niño con el que estoy saliendo, que muy amoroso me trajo una vela y un plato de su helado favorito anoche, luego de hacerme una lasaña vegetariana y que viéramos Garden State. Amoroso.

Me acorde inmediatamente de ese cumpleaños hito cuando vivía con la Chi-k quien, habiendo escuchado mis historias de como mi mama solía despertarme con desayuno y regalos, me despertó con un desayuno de mi postre favorito: pie de limón. Eso es cariño no? Y esa misma mañana me llamo el Pato desde Paris para saludar. Es mucho pedir que la gente se acuerde de uno ese día?

It’s so weird that of all my recent birthdays, this one should be the most low-key by a long shot. All the years that I’ve all-out produced my birthday parties, I’ve wondered what would happen if I didn’t remind people a zillion times that the special day was coming up. The good news is: a lot of them remember. I’ve gotten emails and msn messages and even a couple of phone calls (both from Chile: Pablo and my brother so far). May all my wishes come true, and it’s so nice that I can’t bear to tell anyone that I don’t believe in wishes. That’s how jaded I’ve become, haha.

Ridiculous.

So, whether I like it or not, jot another one to memory. It just so happens it’s 30 this time. You know? The ones I remember most clearly, like the lemon pie one I described above in Spanish, or that time we went to Midget’s Palace, which was, like, my ultimate fantasy, or the first year I celebrated bigtime at Blondie’s, I don’t know how old I was turning. I can guess but I don’t know. It didn’t matter. Let’s bring back those days.

And thanks for the ice cream, Chris. Sorry I talked all over the movie. I do that.