Turning 23

My Annual Birthday Rant – Each year since I started keeping a blog in 2004 I’ve written a little post about just how much I dislike celebrating my birthday. Okay, I suppose I didn’t have a rant when I turned 20 but that was because I was new to this whole blogging thing. When I turned 21 I was in a bad mood. No one wanted to celebrate my birthday because the Pope had died the day before. What a jerk. A guy only turns 21 once. And it’s not like I wanted to get smashed, but it would have been nice to have to fight off people trying to get me drunk.

This was also when I first outlined my idea of the perfect birthday. “Here’s the bottom line: the perfect birthday would be if my friends were to hang out with me so long as it wasn’t something done for me. Something they would have done anyway and they simply included me in it.” To put it another way, I don’t want to be celebrated. Not for my birthday. This is coming from a person who craves attention and for years was willing to invent any sort of crazy story just to get it for a fleeting moment. I don’t mind receiving attention if I feel like I’ve done something to deserve it. But on the day of my birth the only person doing anything worthy of this sort of attention and celebration was my mom. Send her a gift.

I remember my friend Renee asking me once if I felt the same way about God’s grace, since He’s lavished so much attention and love on me for something I didn’t earn or work for. The difference there is that I could never earn God’s grace with what I do. Man’s favor and attention can be received by what we do without any trouble at all, and that’s the way I prefer to receive attention from other people (while still finding my ultimate value in my identity provided by Christ, of course). Maybe that’s sinful. If someone can show me a verse I’ll be happy to take the correction.

I was feeling very sentimental last year when I turned 22 so my rant didn’t have teeth. At the time I was still pretty certain I was going to be leaving Tallahassee when I graduated, so in my mind this was my last birthday with all my college friends. I couldn’t have scripted a better day. First of all I had no classes because it was a Monday. That evening Andy and Curtis had some people over for pizza. Nothing crazy or out-of-this-world, just hanging out with friends. A few of us watched 24 after dinner, we suffered through the Gators winning their first basketball championship, and then I was thrown into Westcott Fountain (I could have done without that last bit, but at least we got Josh Kelley that night too). With the exception of the trip to Westcott and people saying nice things to me the entire evening could have been confused for any other Monday.

So I get to work today and there’s balloons and a birthday banner hanging up in my cube. And I imagine there’s going to be a “surprise” party too. Okay, I know for a fact there’s going to be a party, and not just because everyone around here gets one but because I was accidentally emailed about it yesterday. I know they’re trying to show their appreciation and that means a lot to me. It really does. But make no mistake: I will be uncomfortable. I’m uncomfortable sitting in my cube with all this stuff up. All you need to do is say happy birthday, talk to me a little, maybe let me go home an hour early. I’m really simple like that. I’m a quality time person; all this other stuff is just extra and weird. You have to understand that growing up, especially when I hit high school, I didn’t have many close friends. I would have killed for people to talk to and who would have listened to me. That’s still what I look for most in my relationships and, as a result, that’s still the best way to honor me and show me that you care.

Thankfully my birthday fell on a Tuesday this year. Every Tuesday all of us working stiffs that came up in Navs together have lunch somewhere equally convenient to our various employment locations. I think these people know me well enough to know about my birthday quirks. But more importantly I’ll be able to spend time with the people I care about. It’ll be “with me” but not “for me,” just like I said earlier.

I want to assure you that no matter what people do for me today I’ll be thankful. If you want to wish me a happy birthday but you’re a little scared after reading this please know that I won’t bite. If you were going to call me or post something on my Facebook wall and now you’re not so sure please don’t change your mind. If you’ve already planned for the county jamboree to be in town just for me don’t tell them to go home. You need to be honest and true about how you best show your love just as much as I need to be honest and true about how I best receive it. I’m very grateful to be in a position where there’s anyone who cares enough about me to be even reading this, let alone do something for me that unintentionally makes me feel uncomfortable. My thanks to each of you and I hope, whatever you do today, that your day is as blessed as I know mine will be.

This website uses IntenseDebate comments, but they are not currently loaded because either your browser doesn't support JavaScript, or they didn't load fast enough.

0 Response to “Turning 23”


Comments are currently closed.