Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Birthday Curse

It's like some sort of creepy ghost story -- the curse of my birthday.

It goes like this: everything attached to my birthday goes wrong. All birthday activities. All celebratory plans. Everything. Every year.

My 8th birthday, for example? No one came to my party. Not a single person. Then there was the year my dad gave me a wetsuit ... and then said "just kidding, this is mine" and took it back.

They told me "have long expectations and you won't be disappointed!"

So this year I decided -- hey! my husband is gone so this is going to kind of suck anyway, Ill make plans that revolve around appointments at places. Can't go wrong.

But then there was a fire at the spa. .... yeah, crazy. And then we got confused about our alternate movie time plan, so we relocated and no birthday yogurt was the result. Today we were going to go kayaking on the Sound, only to get there and discover that the kayak rental folks don't show when it's raining (p.s. the web site said nothing about them not showing in bad weather). So we went to lunch ... and it made me sick. But not before I had a cupcake at Hello, Cupcake ... so that just made me sicker.

Pretty much the only good part about the birthday was going out to lunch with Abigail on my birthday-day (except for the part where I burst into tears because I was so upset about Luke being gone).

I was really OK with the kayak thing today, but I mention it above to prove a point -- my birthday is cursed! Everything associated with it goes wrong. Steer clear.


  1. I'm sorry. You could do what I do half of the time and have your birthday on a different date? No one can make it to my actual birthday. We could have an non-birthday birthday party or outing together!

  2. I am so sorry about the non-spectactular birthday. I am even more sorry that I was not in town nor able to access the internet so I could have at least have said Happy Day Of Your Birth to you.
    I launch my b-days right up onto the highest pedestle and then am not pleasant company when they spiral to the ground in smoke.
    Yours...wow. We must swap bad b-day stories sometime!