Monday, June 11, 2007 Baumgart: Happy Birthday By Elisabeth Baumgart inkblots
ANNIVERSARIES and birthdays have never been a big deal for me. While other people like to splurge on their birthday, I’d much rather crawl under the covers and sleep the day away.
Then again, when people insist (demand, really) that I should celebrate the day of my birth, I conceded and did celebrate my coming into this world.
I turned 20 a month ago, which means I’m this close to getting out of school and jumping into the pits of hell, err, the proverbial “real world”–whatever that means anyway.
I realized that I pretty much already lived a quarter of my life. Therefore, at some point, I'm entitled to a “quarter life crisis” (which will probably be another column). When that moment of crisis will come, I’m not sure yet, but I think I’m feeling it slithering towards me slowly.
The 20 years of existence on this planet has been fun. I really wouldn’t say mind-blowing, since I still have to meet Johnny Depp and Conan O’Brien and watch them arm wrestle.
But sadly (and realistically), that’s something most likely not to happen in this lifetime.
But hey, I’m keeping my fingers crossed. Who knows what my future may hold? Maybe our paths will cross one day–maybe on a train to Timbuktu or on the Galapagos Island.
While turning 20 was pretty exciting, today proves itself to be more exciting event than anything that I mentioned earlier. Yes, even more exciting than meeting Depp and O’Brien.
Today, this little space right here is turning one.
Exactly a year ago, on the second Monday of this month, this baby popped out. And right now, I feel like a mother throwing her child’s very first birthday party.
A year ago, I wrote about how I worship coffee shops and what kind of caffeine junky I really am. To this date, I still have to kick the habit.
If this were a wedding anniversary, the appropriate gift to give would be something made of paper. Conveniently enough, this column is printed on paper so that solves that gift giving problem.
However, since we no longer live in the Stone Age, traditional gift giving has stepped up a little and on first anniversaries one can also give a timepiece.
Better yet, make that a huge wall clock to remind me to pass my columns on time. Of course, it must have a built-in mallet to whack me on the head if I fail to submit articles on time.
Thank you for a wonderful year! Three cheers of course, to the editor, Linette, for being the next best thing to sliced bread and for the wonderful patience (and not hunting me down) when this little baby comes in a bit late. And thanks too, to Noel, who chanced upon me somewhere in the unreal realms of the internet. Without him, this thing would still be a fetus.
