Why I hate my birthdays.

Me with my cousins (starting from the left) Sandra, Rebecca & Jeffrey

I've come to this conclusion after 22 of them. Each one secretly leaving me sad, except maybe my 7th birthday where I got a duck statue from my grandpa (that still sits on our lawn), an electric pencil sharpener from my uncle (that I still have), and I wore this black and white polka dotted dress with a red ribbon on it. I still remember the time I opened a heavy large cardboard box to find a statue of a duck with a slew of newspaper. I believe I was excited. Maybe because I didn't really have pets growing up except a few goldfish, two turtles that died and this dog I had for one day. I am currently in Vietnam so I don't have those photos with me except the one above. (It sums up my sentiments about my subsequent birthdays pretty well.)

I was five. I remember being grumpy (and I was celebrating my birthday with my uncle who was also born in rabbit year). I don't know why I was grumpy. I just remember stomping in the hallways with my little legs trying to make alot of grumpy noise so that people knew I wasn't happy. Someone called my name as I stomped.  I remember making that face in the photo (pouting) for the entire day and being whiney. Why is she acting like that? I acted "like that" even more when I heard that. I probably cried at one point? To this day I think that is how I secretly feel in each of my birthdays but since I am no longer five years old, stomping doesn't quiet have the same effect so my true sentiments are now well hidden.

I guess I can't handle the attention or what seems to me as the default "I have to care about you on this day because you were born into existence" type of deal. Maybe its the fact that on this day I realize my existence is close to moot and that there is really no reason to celebrate this day because any other day is just the same except that people have to put things in boxes to give to you so you know that they care for you. Or maybe its just overrated and my five year old self knew that already.

My birthday also happens to fall mid summer and while all the cool kids with non-summer birthdays celebrate and get recognized in school by their friends, my birthday is at a time when people are in transition, school is over, and/or they've moved. One time in middle school my friend decided to very sweetly celebrate summer babies' birthdays by giving us all balloons nearing the last day of school. Although I somewhat felt like charity. People wishing me happy birthday even though it wasn't, then getting confused as to why I had a balloon, then me having to explain the whole sha-bang to them. I am ever so grateful for my friend for thinking about us though. I think that was the only time something happened at school. From what my memory serves me I have never been surprised on my birthday.

My milestone birthdays haven't been so great either. Great as in "I want to boast to people about the bomb ass party I had for my (insert milestone) birthday." But it doesn't quiet end up that way. For my 16th birthday I planned a birthday with a few friends over, my mom cooked a feast, and we sang karaoke. Nothing too eventful. I remember having a cupcake decorating party and made everyone wear purple. I was also strangely sad that night and felt like weight was taken off my shoulders when it ended. For my 21st I had a small home dinner party with my family.  For my 22nd the same. My last two birthdays was spent very disappointed at a particular person. Like every birthday I'm usually glad when its over.

However, besides my rather lamenting feelings towards my birthday (except I do like the actual day 28), I absolutely love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love 

birthday cakes.

This is not to be confused with loving my birthdays even though birthday cakes and birthdays come hand in hand. It is possible for someone to love birthday cakes and not their own birthday. I love them with all my heart and all they have to offer, even Vietnamese ones, with the snowmen and dogs and dragons all on one cake! I think this is why people sometimes people get confused and think I love my birthdays but really I just love the cake.

When I was younger I was notoriously known to ask about the cake when I came to birthday parties.
I love other people's birthday parties, no pressure on me, I'm celebrating another close one's birthday and I get cake! Someone else is in the spotlight. The candleblowing, the process of slicing it, the camera picture taking that occurs after, and then the repeated candle blowing because some cameras couldn't "capture" the moment just right and it needed to be authentic with the whole "blowing the candle" shot and then the "posing with the cake tilted forward" shot and finally the "fake cutting the cake" shot for the money win. Some little kids wanted to practice their mad candle blowing skills as well and some spit blowing while they are at it.

When I was younger I was obsessed with creme flowers that go on top of Chinese styled cakes with the red clear icing occasionally sprinkled with a few Chinese characters. That was the ONLY part of the cake I wanted to eat. And when my dad gave me an entire slice of cake I remember bursting in tears and running to my aunt crying into her dress because I wanted the fucking flower and nothing else.

Now I come into my next birthday with very little expectations and only plans for myself that don't really involve anyone else. In general, I never really ask anything of anyone because I don't want to be disappointed. My birthdays just seem like I'm asking people for some type of recognition and maybe that's why I hate my birthdays. I don't like asking. That is why for this birthday I am going to ask for nothing. My only plans are to buy a cake, share it with others and run around Saigon.