Today, February 12, is Abraham Lincoln’s birthday (RIP) and it’s my 22nd birthday! I resisted the urge to wear my tiara all day long (it was in my backpack earlier but I’m wearing it now) and didn’t tie a balloon to my backpack because my sister said that was “too much.” That being said, I love my birthday for a few reasons.
1. I like being the center of attention. I’ll admit it (admitting it is the first step to recovery, right?) and though that’s not one of my finer qualities, this is acceptable on my birthday. This is probably obvious since I like wearing a tiara on my birthday and letting passersby know I’m the birthday girl.
2. You get to spend time with all of your friends and family. This hasn’t always happened on my actual birthday since being in college, but even just grabbing a meal with those I care about most makes me happy.
3. I can wear a tiara and it be semi-acceptable. Need I say more? (If you read yesterday’s blog, you probably remember that other than Anastasia, Princess is a name I’ll always respond to.)
4. Cake and ice cream. And cupcakes. And cookies. Delicious.
5. You’re reminded that even if people don’t constantly show it, they care about you. This is probably my favorite part of the day. It’s hard to keep in touch with everyone as much I would like, and even if it’s a quick message letting me know that despite not talking in a while, people still care, it means a lot.
So feel free to call me Princess today (or any day) or tell me how great I am. Just don’t sing me Taylor Swift lyrics.