It's My (Not) Birthday
Well, I'm writing at 10:30 at night, so tomorrow is my birthday. Sort of.
You see, I'm a Leap Day baby. That's right, I was born on February 29. So, even though I'm going to be 38 freaking years old, I'm only 9 1/2 in birthdays. My mother once told me that she begged her OB/GYN to keep me inside, even though she had been in labor for something like 30 hours, because she thought I would hate her for life for being born on such a date. On the contrary: I love my birthday. It's one thing that makes me somewhat unique. In fact, I think I even belong to the Honor Society of Leap Day Babies.
The one thing about being born on Leap Day, however, is when to actually celebrate your birthday those three years you don't have one. Apparently, there was some controversy about this in my family, if I remember correctly. For example, my father was in Vietnam when I was born; it was March 1 when I was delivered out there, so it would have made sense to celebrate my birthday then. But Mom, again, probably underestimated a child's ability to adapt (I was the first born in the family, after all; she couldn't have known). She insisted that I would be confused if I didn't celebrate my birthday on the last day of February. So, throughout my childhood and adolescence, I always celebrated my birthday on February 28. I still do, in reality. But I also remember that my Grandpa Morris would always send me cards dated March 1, so I guess he disagreed with his daughter.
Once I went to college, though, and found out (back when it was legal) that bars would give you free drinks on your "birthday," that I could legitimately celebrate my birthday on both Februrary 28 and March I. After all, you can make a logical case for either. Ever since, even though I celebrate my birthday on Feb 28 in private, I celebrate it both days in public. I figure, what the hell, if the Gregorian Calendar is going to do this to me, the least I can get is two days of free drinks.
The one great thing about having a birthday on Leap Day is that you can remember every single one of your actual birthdays. For example:
#1: Four years old. Lived in Ft. Leavenworth, KS. Had a party with my friends.
#2: Eight years old. Lived in Colorado Springs, CO. Had a party with my friends. Mom made a strange Earth-shaped cake that I requested for some reason.
#3: 12 years old: Right after the Miracle on Ice, I hosted an Olympics party where I invented games for my friends to participate in and we awarded fake medals we made and painted ourselves.
#4: 16 years old: I was a sophomore in high school and I went out with my friends.
#5: 20 years old: Was a sophomore at Kansas State and went to a show by a crazy leftist folk singer who was fantastic and bizarre.
#6: 24 years old: Was at UC Davis and went out with friends, though it wasn't that memorable.
#7: 28 years old: Was at Texas. My grad school friends threw a surprise shindig for me at our favorite happy hour spot. One person who showed up was a woman I had a crush on but hadn't seen in over a year. Ended up getting a date with her, one of my rare ones with anyone, let alone a hot gal. Still sad she ended up being psychotic.
#8: 32 years old: Had a great party with my baseball friends at the bar I frequented in Austin.
#9: 36 years old: Was in NC, and I don't remember doing anything that night, as no one was particularly social that year. [Edit revision: this is wrong--I actually was taken out by friends to a wonderful night of sushi at a great Chapel Hill restaurant.]
How many other people can remember what they did on every single one of their birthdays? Thanks, Mom: I don't hold it against you at all. It's the coolest birthday in the world.
For a list of famous Leap Day babies, check out this link.
You see, I'm a Leap Day baby. That's right, I was born on February 29. So, even though I'm going to be 38 freaking years old, I'm only 9 1/2 in birthdays. My mother once told me that she begged her OB/GYN to keep me inside, even though she had been in labor for something like 30 hours, because she thought I would hate her for life for being born on such a date. On the contrary: I love my birthday. It's one thing that makes me somewhat unique. In fact, I think I even belong to the Honor Society of Leap Day Babies.
The one thing about being born on Leap Day, however, is when to actually celebrate your birthday those three years you don't have one. Apparently, there was some controversy about this in my family, if I remember correctly. For example, my father was in Vietnam when I was born; it was March 1 when I was delivered out there, so it would have made sense to celebrate my birthday then. But Mom, again, probably underestimated a child's ability to adapt (I was the first born in the family, after all; she couldn't have known). She insisted that I would be confused if I didn't celebrate my birthday on the last day of February. So, throughout my childhood and adolescence, I always celebrated my birthday on February 28. I still do, in reality. But I also remember that my Grandpa Morris would always send me cards dated March 1, so I guess he disagreed with his daughter.
Once I went to college, though, and found out (back when it was legal) that bars would give you free drinks on your "birthday," that I could legitimately celebrate my birthday on both Februrary 28 and March I. After all, you can make a logical case for either. Ever since, even though I celebrate my birthday on Feb 28 in private, I celebrate it both days in public. I figure, what the hell, if the Gregorian Calendar is going to do this to me, the least I can get is two days of free drinks.
The one great thing about having a birthday on Leap Day is that you can remember every single one of your actual birthdays. For example:
#1: Four years old. Lived in Ft. Leavenworth, KS. Had a party with my friends.
#2: Eight years old. Lived in Colorado Springs, CO. Had a party with my friends. Mom made a strange Earth-shaped cake that I requested for some reason.
#3: 12 years old: Right after the Miracle on Ice, I hosted an Olympics party where I invented games for my friends to participate in and we awarded fake medals we made and painted ourselves.
#4: 16 years old: I was a sophomore in high school and I went out with my friends.
#5: 20 years old: Was a sophomore at Kansas State and went to a show by a crazy leftist folk singer who was fantastic and bizarre.
#6: 24 years old: Was at UC Davis and went out with friends, though it wasn't that memorable.
#7: 28 years old: Was at Texas. My grad school friends threw a surprise shindig for me at our favorite happy hour spot. One person who showed up was a woman I had a crush on but hadn't seen in over a year. Ended up getting a date with her, one of my rare ones with anyone, let alone a hot gal. Still sad she ended up being psychotic.
#8: 32 years old: Had a great party with my baseball friends at the bar I frequented in Austin.
#9: 36 years old: Was in NC, and I don't remember doing anything that night, as no one was particularly social that year. [Edit revision: this is wrong--I actually was taken out by friends to a wonderful night of sushi at a great Chapel Hill restaurant.]
How many other people can remember what they did on every single one of their birthdays? Thanks, Mom: I don't hold it against you at all. It's the coolest birthday in the world.
For a list of famous Leap Day babies, check out this link.
posted by cc at
10:28 PM
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