January Birthdays

I love the month of January-- a new year has begun (ripe with hope and (the) possibility (of adventure)), it starts with the letter J, winter hasn't gone on long enough for everyone to wish it were over, and I know so many people with birthdays, myself included!

I have a certain amount of affection for winter in general, and January in particular, because it is the month of my birthday. Somehow the cold and snow of December and the first eighteen days of January never seem so bad when I have my birthday to look forward to. But I was thinking today how one year I would really love to celebrate somewhere in the southern hemisphere-- maybe Sydney? I could have a get together at the beach and go swimming and wear a pretty summer dress and it wouldn't get dark until after 9 pm. And I could have an ice cream cake that would actually run the risk of melting! Or I could go to Buenos Aires where it would also stay light late and I could eat a cake with dulce de leche icing.

I picked up an early birthday ice cream cake for myself yesterday at Baskin Robbins (world class chocolate) and it made me think about my birthday three years ago when I also got an ice cream cake- except it was from Ben & Jerry's and I was in Berkeley. I was excited to turn 22, I remember. Partly because that was the age B. was when I first met him and so 22 had always had this allure to it for me. But also because 21 had been somewhat of a let down so I was ready for something new.

But 24 wasn't like that. 24 was great! Last year on my birthday, J. thought I was turning 25, not 24, and I realized today how sad that would have been if I had turned 25 last year and therefore missed out on being 24. So much happened to me as a 24 year old, maybe more than any other age, and I consequently feel really attached to it. But, with the exceptions of 21 going into 22 and 22 going into 23, I usually feel super attached to my age and part of me, while excited for my birthday, is sad about leaving it behind forever.