Birthdays and all they bring
Birthdays are supposed to be a time in which a person can revel in the extra frown lines, the obvious battering from the sun endured throughout the course of the year and most importantly, put into perspective all that one hasn’t achieved despite the best intentions to “get it done”.
Well today, I share my own birthday with the illustrious Melbourne Cup. The day that stops a nation… why? Because in true Aussie style we needed another reason to sit back and have a few dozen beers.
The day that stops the nation involves an assortment of horses racing amongst a massive sea of people who peacock themselves in the hopes of capturing some of the personality they obviously lack. After all, why savour any glimpse of identity and squirrel it away for a day where you can hear nothing but thousands of would-be pigeons, smell the overwhelming stench of manure and champagne and see an army of horses arses fluttering around (some resembling people… and some who are actually horses).
In the lead up to the big day, the television was promoting the sad event with a “come in colour” advertisement… where they showcased a handful of airhead models who were all wearing a variety of WHITE dresses. Talk about overloading the senses with their definition of colour.
As for the rest of my birthday, I am often asked why I don’t get into the birthday spirit.
With the exception of a rather rotten childhood where every birthday marked the occasion of my family members overachieving in the field of “letting you know they don’t care”, through to it being a public holiday and having every shop closed, to me, it really is just another day.
What are birthdays to you?
No Responses to “Birthdays and all they bring”