XXV

Think back to when you were 7 or 8 years old and had a birthday coming up. Did you count down the days until that magical day like I did? My birthday is in May, but you could ask me in January “How many days until your birthday?” and I would probably, without a second of hesitation, respond “132 days!” I’m not joking. I counted days until my birthday like I counted days until Santa came. It was my day.

Oh how things change.

I used to think my parents were crazy because they didn’t go hog wild on their birthdays. My sister and I would get them cards and presents and maybe go to dinner. And I kept thinking “Why aren’t they more excited?”. It just didn’t make sense. …I get it now... As I’ve gotten older, birthdays are just less important to share with the world. I’m perfectly happy with a “happy birthday” kiss from Kevin in the morning, spending time with my family, and going out to dinner. Granted, all day in the back of my mind I can imagine a little Princess Chandra wearing a tiara and holding a wand saying “This is my day – it’s my birthday!” But I don’t feel the need to proclaim it anymore.

Except this year.

I turned 25 on May 7th. I half-way expected myself to panic as if I were turning 50, but it’s good so far. After all, I can now legally rent a car AND rent a condo in Destin for Spring Break. *yeah, too bad I no longer have Spring Breaks.
…But I digress… Cheryl and I both turned 25 within a week of each other. So we decided that “the world surviving 25 years of Cheryl and Chandra madness” merited a party. And Cheryl and Saul just bought their first house – which is totally cute and homey and has a POOL – so of course they are dying to show everyone their new crib! So we are having our birthday party at their new house.

It’s going to be phenomenal – see you there.