The trouble with having a birthday right around Christmas time is that it’s right around Christmas time, the time of year when everyone is frantically buying last minute gifts no matter how early they started. It’s busy, there’s things going on, everyone’s running around like mad. Jolly good fun.
This was the first year in a long time that I’ve had a proper “party,” (i.e. more than my immediate family and the neighbors who hang out at our place a lot), and it was all put together by my friend Carrot*, who is a wholly decent human being. A flawless example of what humanity should be. One of those people you have trouble being around for too long because they make you seem like a thoughtless jerk in comparison.
Really, nothing bad to say about the guy.
At any rate, Carrot organized a group of a dozen of my closest friends and we all went out to see Rogue One. Mid-late December is a lovely time to have a birthday because Hollywood likes to release the high-effort shows in time for the holidays. No weak summer comedies for us!
After the movie we retired to Carrot’s place for ordered-in Chinese food and board games. We would have gone out, you see, but it was the day before my birthday and I still couldn’t technically drink.
I had two teaspoons of alcohol that day, wrapped in chocolate and tin foil.
But that’s okay, really. I’m not a “going out” kind of person. Neither are any of my friends. It’s the reason I stopped having parties to begin with, because parties are exhausting and require you to interact with people, and wouldn’t it be much better to just celebrate your birthday from the comfort of a blanket nest in a dark corner?
Hence, board games. Always board games.
Carrot had a cake for me, which was incredibly sweet, and they painstakingly lit the whole twenty-one candles. Every year I wonder if this will be the last year people attempt to light the correct number of candles for my age.
Amelie’s boyfriend, Jonas, gifted me Redd’s Ginger Apple Ale. “It’s because you’re a redhead, get it? Get it, Jean? Get it?” *nudge nudge*
I’d have taken a picture of everybody, but I’m trying to maintain some semblence of privacy, so instead I offer up this picture of a cart full of Pikachus, and I wish everyone a Merry Christmas. As of now, I’m so officially an adult that I could order alcohol on the plane back home if I chose. I won’t, but I could.
What happens when some of the boys you take care of are veeerry into Pokemon, to your eternal torment.
* So named in this blog because he puts me in mind of Carrot Ironfoundersson, Discworld character and decent
human being dwarf. They’re also similar in height.