Andy: "Oh my gosh, babe. I can't believe I forgot to tell you about this woman I saw on the metro today... [insert moderately inappropriate story of unfortunately present chest hair]."
Kate: "A of all, gross; B of all, how old was she?"
Andy: "Oh, I don't know. Late twenties/early thirties."
If you ask anyone what their favorite holiday is and they say "Christmas" or "Thanksgiving" they are lying. I promise you. Their favorite holiday is without a doubt their birthday, much like my favorite holiday is. A day where everyone gathers to toast, sing, and celebrate your existence. How can your very own birthday not be your favorite holiday? If you say otherwise, I'm calling your bluff right here and now.
Imagine Andy's surprise (and everyone else in our family/friend circle who knows me well), when the New Year celebrations came and went without any mention of January 20th. As we celebrate the Epiphany with Kings Cake and silly crowns, I found myself in no way, shape, or form craving the chocolate on chocolate (on chocolate on chocolate) birthday cake that would soon be mine.
Maybe it's because most of my friends here are younger than me. And if they're not, they're for the most part "established" and have homes, jobs, and children. Maybe it's because I just don't feel old enough to be invited to the Class of 2008's 5 year Reunion weekend at Santa Clara.
I am, however, confident I know what it DEFINITELY is. I'm no longer in my mid-twenties. I can no longer say - without lying at least - "Oh yes, I'm just a few years out of college." I can no longer check the 19-26 age box on a survey (devastating, right?). I am 100% age insecure. I'm now lumped into a group of people that includes some person on the Toulouse metro with an unfortunate amount of visible chest hair. I'm in my late twenties now, which let's get real, means I'm basically almost 30.
In all seriousness - because if you think a majority of the above was serious, you're just plain silly - my mom arrived to southwest France just in time to help my ring in 27.
I woke up to a snow covered backyard and balcony, brunched at a local Irish rugby pub, had an e-birthday celebration with Ellie and company, opened too many presents from my incredibly generous family and friends, mixed up a few too many delicious triple berry margaritas, and feasted on homemade fajitas.
Although I dreaded turning another year older, my 27th birthday ended up being one of the best ever, full of long-lasting and very fond memories. Thank you a million time to my beautiful mom and my incredibly thoughtful husband for treating me like a birthday princess. Gros bisous.