For years, I have this little game of hiding my birthday from the world and congratulating those who successfully remembered it. Some part of me was joyful at this minor power play to see who would be as psuedo-OCD as me and keep track of my birthday. Another part of me just didn't care as much. Growing up birthdays were signified by a sumptuous meal and a visit to the temple. Yeah, my American friends would have grandiose parties and eventually I tried emulating them but my heart was never in it.
This year my birthday will be lost in a weekend where I will be helping throw a charity concert and resting from a hectic week and driving home for a couple nights. One of my best friends is in Texas; the other in California. What I want doesn't necessarily factor into what I get. I want second year to be over and a month off before starting third year rotations. Instead, I'll be working hard to pass my classes. I'll be working hard to pass Step 1 of my Board Exams. I want to go to Chris' town where a gathering will commence on the first of the next month. Instead I'll probably be doing some much-needed vegging-out after a heavy week of studying. I want to be fifteen again. Instead I'll be turning twenty-six.
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