Happy Birthday to Me

Well this is a bit late, but it was my birthday on Friday. I turned 22, and gee, let's see -- nope, don't feel too different.
When I was little, my birthday felt like Christmas to me -- except it was Christmas JUST FOR ME. I used to try and finagle my way into a birthday lunch or even breakfast just so I could have my presents earlier.
Then, around the time I turned 13, my birthdays started to SUCK beyond the telling of it. Early September, as so many of my friends also know, is an incredibly shitty time to have a birthday, and yet, thanks to its 9-month proximity to Christmas and New Year's, more babies are born in September than any other month.
My 13th birthday was spent in France, without friends, and, I might add, against my will. I did NOT want to be there. On top of it all, I had to share my birthday with this horrible mopey teenager named DE. haha
My 14th birthday was the first day of high school... nuff said.
My 15th birthday I had no friends, as sometimes happens once in said high school.
My 16th birthday AGAIN was shared with DE, although he was slightly less horrible at that point.
My 17th birthday was spent at my Great Uncle's wedding.
My 18th birthday was spent on a train from Montreal with some hungover hockey players talking loudly about disturbing... disturbing things.
My 19th birthday I moved into residence at uni.
My 20th birthday no one had really showed up to school yet... again it was a bit lame
My 21st birthday we went to an extremely expensive Chinese restaurant in Kyiv where the Russian mafia were having a confab. Every time there was a loud bang from the kitchens the big scary men in black suits with shaved heads (yeah, the Transporter) reached quickly under the table to finger their guns.

This year I had a bit of a change of pace in my birthday. First of all I kept completely forgetting that it was my birthday -- every time someone reminded me by saying "Happy Birthday" I was like, "Oh yeah!"
My mom took me to Winners and bought me new clothes.
I cleaned my room, and did laundry.
I went to Harvey's for dinner with JHR.
And then she and I drove to the airport and picked up DE (no longer horrible, quite the opposite in fact), who spent his birthday on Thursday in a plane en route to see me. And then we went out and partied long into the night...

Hurray for no more sucky birthdays.
Hurray that I'm old enough now not to be bothered by them at all.