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Maybe I’m bitter because my birthday falls on January 2nd — the worst possible day to have a birthday. Coming down off the holidays (#BenderThroughDecember), everyone’s in New Year’s Resolution mode trying to undo everything they ate, spent, and did between Thanksgiving and when the clock struck twelve to end the year.
Maybe it’s because I’m still bitter that I nearly went bankrupt trying to avoid a fight when my ex-girlfriend insisted we tried a new restaurant every night of the week leading up to her birthday, culminating with a five-course meal at an overpriced seafood joint that nearly required me to take out a small loan to afford the bottle of wine I couldn’t pronounce.
Or maybe it’s because I’m getting old as hell and starting to realize how much I dread celebrating my own birthday, let alone the celebration of someone else’s who will probably end up crying at the end of the night because the dinner party didn’t live up to her expectations.
You know, I’m not sure. But one thing I do know? These birthday celebrations need to stop.
Birthdays traditions can be described in pretty simple terms.
An individual’s birthday is celebrated by a party where a specially made cake, usually decorated with lettering and the person’s age, is presented. The cake is traditionally studded with the same number of lit candles as the age of the individual, or a number candle representing their age … Presents are bestowed on the individual by the guests appropriate to her/his age … “Happy Birthday to You” is typically sung by the guests at some point in the proceedings.
Cake? Check. Candles? Yep. Presents? Sure, we’re all friends here. “Happy Birthday” song? Yeah, I’ll be mouthing that because I don’t believe in non-professional singing.
But nowhere in that description does it have the following: the phrase “Birth Week,” obligatory triple-figure dinners with so many people that you can barely see the guest of honor sitting at the end of the table in a sash and crown, or guilt trip-induced destination parties that eat up your weekend and a Friday of PTO.
Oh, it’s your 21st birthday? Your bar mitzvah? Your dirty thirty? Your quincea-fuckin’-ñera? Wonderful, you’ve got my utmost attention for one night and one night only. That doesn’t mean a bar crawl, progressive dinner, or morning-after brunch. That means I show up to our reservation, put in my time (and my card), and I can leave guilt-free and return home to my bed where I can enjoy the rest of this non-holiday night in solitude. If I’m dropping beaucoup bucks on something, it’s going to be called a “Ryder Cup” or “Kentucky Derby” — not a weekend-long celebration for someone that managed to stumble through another year of their life without getting arrested or put in rehab.
Birthdays have become more of an obligation than weddings. If you can’t make a wedding, it’s no skin off the bride and groom’s backs. “Oh, they’re busy,” they’ll say in passing (if they even realize you didn’t show up). But tossing an RSVP in the mail that says I regretfully cannot attend? Totally acceptable. But if I skip Blaire’s birthday dinner on a Friday in the middle of February? She’s going to throw me under the bus and read the Riot Act to every attendee before someone forces me to formally apologize the next time we see each other out and she’s had a few too many happy hour proseccos.
“Just be the bigger person and apologize for missing Blaire’s birthday,” they’ll say. “Tell her you’re sorry and this’ll all be over,” they’ll plead. And I will. I’ll be the bigger man and I’ll express my empty regrets so my buddy won’t have to go home that night to a cranky girlfriend who keeps repeating, “I can’t believe you’re still friends with that asshole.”
Well guess what, toots? The only people that care about your birthday are you, your parents, and insurance companies. Try this — deactivate your Facebook, take a backseat in the party celebrations, and tell me if your birthday is as extravagant as you’d like it to be when it’s out of your control. It won’t be up to par, because as I said before: no one cares, because the only thing birthdays are good for are having an extra excuse to get drunk and for you to get some of the shit that’s been sitting in your Zara cart for the past month. And the bigger deal you make about your birthday now, the more you’ll regret it when you try to shave off a couple years when you’re inching closer to 40.
Do yourself a favor and try staying in for the night with a bottle of red and a dinner for two. Save the fireworks for the Fourth of July and save your friends the hassle and financial suffering of observing the random-ass day on the calendar that happens to be the day you were born.
Hit me up if it’s an open bar though. .
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Will
Will (Twitter / Instagram) is the host of The Sunday Scaries Podcast.
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Celebrating birthdays stops being important after 21. I hate when I’m out at the bar and see a horde of women with “26” sashes and hats. Get over yourself.
Agreed, my 26th this year consisted of me taking the day off and going to the casino at 9AM
That’s the kind of questionable decision making I like to see.
Those 26-year-olds wearing sashes aren’t women, they’re girls.
January 2 is the worst day? My birthday is on Christmas, Will. I don’t want to hear it.
Automatic day off, everyone drinks all day on Christmas anyway, and you eat like a champ until you get to pass out in a warm bed. Yeah, sounds horrible.
Spent my 21st drinking scotch with my grandma at 9:30 am
Try mothers day then.
I have a Thanksgiving Bday this year which I’m pretty excited about. It’s not every year that your birthday is at midnight on the biggest bar night of the year, blackout wednesday.
Thanksgiving weekend birthdays are the best. I’m guessing you’re either the 25th or 26th, I’m the 28th. Every year you can hang out with friends on Wednesday or Friday and celebrate with your family on Thursday
My birthday usually falls on Mother’s Day too. May 10th. Which means I’m pretty much obligated to spend my birthday with my mom instead of blacking out at the bar again.
And all of your friends have stuff to do with their moms. Birthdays have never mattered. God is dead. Eat Arbys.
My mom’s birthday usually falls on Mother’s Day too. Gives me a good excuse to get one big present and be a great son! I feel for you though
Shibby, if you’re as good to your mom as your gifs are to us then I don’t think you have anything to worry about.
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Christmas, the only people you will spend time with on it, is your family. Your birthday will take a far back seat to the federal
Holiday that everyone gets off to spend time with their family. Which means absolutely no friends will celebrate with you unless you live in a city far from your family and didn’t go home for the holidays, and your friend(s) did the same. And let’s be honest, you’d rather enjoy your birthday with friends over family.
Oh and I hope you’re either Jewish or Chinese and love to eat Chinese food and watch movies because no bars or other restaurants will be open and on Christmas.
January 2nd, people have gotten over their NYE hangover and haven’t returned to work, but have probably flown back in town to get back before the long weekend. All the people you actually want to spend your birthday with can easily be talked into having a New Years hair of the dog before returning to the monotony of work and also have their Holiday bonuses to through down for a good time.
Will, a Christmas birthday is far worse than a January 2nd birthday. By a long shot.
A week long celebration? I think we know where the inspiration for Caroline came from.
Patagucci– YES you do! I am 29 years old and still hearing screechy choruses of “BIRTHDAY WEEK” on group email chains. It’s like Freddy Kruegger’s nails (or whatever those are) on a chalkboard.
No, just no. and PS Thanks for reading that one!
WDF- glad that one is now an ex. I’ll remember to send you a bday tweet.
Being the boyfriend of a BIRTHDAY WEEK!!! girl is its own personal hell.
If you’re single and not required to spend your birthday with the girlfriend or wife, go to a nice steakhouse, sit at the bar, order whatever you want without looking at the price, and you’ll have your best birthday celebration yet.
I love doing that. I call it “Gould-Party of 1.” Now that I’m married its mostly reserved for business trips and for when Aaron has pissed me off.
I’ve made these requests for my past two birthdays: I want a steak in front of a fire while I wear sweatpants and watch the Red Wings.
Was at a conference in Vegas recently, needed some me time, spent a few hours and way too much money at Smith and Wollensky, decided it was better than losing same said money to the blackjack dealer.
All I require on my birthday is to choose the meals (that I’ll be paying for) and a free pass on whatever overpriced golf club I decide to buy myself that day.
I had parties til I was 12. I celebrated 16, 18, and 21 but no parties since. This year I went with my dad and bought a cow (obligatory ‘grew up on a farm’). Spend my own money on something nice, that’s my birthday celebration.
My birthday doesn’t exist this year. It’s on Super Bowl Sunday…and the girl I’m dating has the same birthday.
You sure you guys don’t have the same parents?
Like 99% sure we’re not Lannistering it up.
That 1% made Joffrey…
My spring break birthday ended up turning into a birthday week without me having any input. I’ll never apologize for that.
December birthday here, deactivate the Facebook for 3 days and self-gift my birthday/Christmas present. Wouldn’t do it any other way. Blew up the AMEX with a rifle scope last year and building the rifle for it this year.