On Turning Twenty
I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that when growing up, my birthday was the one day out of the year where I was allowed to be ruthlessly conceited and allowed to do anything I want. I was taught that I was special. I became popular for bringing cupcakes to share with everyone in my third grade classroom. My ego became inflated when I logged onto Facebook and saw a sea of "Happy Birthday" posts on my wall. Every September 30th, I was allowed to rule the world.
But there are thousands with the same birthday.
With the exception of 16, 21, and 40, birthdays just don't become special anymore. I don't like being celebrated. I think that you should only be celebrated if you have done something great in the world, and being born isn't really one of them. Everyone is born as well, and along with thousands (if not millions) of people who share the very same birthday as mine, I am thus definitely not special by any stretch of the imagination.
It could just be that there are still some parts of me that are naturally shy and don't like being the center of attention. I think having to sit through Happy Birthday is one of the most awkward and uncomfortable experiences one can go through, so every September 30th I try to find ways to get through those forty five seconds without as much discomfort as possible.
So in conclusion, I really don't think that tomorrow will be different from any other day. I most likely won't be hungover, I won't feel any different, and nothing will have changed from the day before. I won't be anyone special. I'll just be twenty, which is perfectly fine by me.
I've been on a dessert buzz lately (but then again, when am I not on one), and had an extreme hankering to make crepes. Thin, lovely, almond-scented pancakes to wrap around vanilla bean ice cream and nutella- you know, the only things in the world that actually matter.
I also made some stewed cherries to ladle on top, laced with cinnamon and cognac. This dessert definitely does double duty as both a summer and winter dessert.
just another weekend