30th Birthday: My Own Little New Year

When I was younger my greatest fear was that no one would come to my funeral.  It wasn't that I didn't have any friends, it's that I couldn't think of anything that could be more sad.  I've told very few about that fear, but now as an adult I realize that it's not something I needed to worry about...afterall, I'd be dead.  Three weeks ago, this old fear resurrected itself, only this time I was afraid no one would help me celebrate my birthday.  As it turned out, it was again an irrational fear.

I didn't wake up to an alarm on May 7th because apparently it wanted to give me a gift that morning as well...more sleep.  What it couldn't have known was that I would then skip breakfast and rush around the flat trying to get out on time - still I appreciated the gesture.  Traffic was light and I actually made it to the office on schedule.  When my boss came in she brought with her a beautiful bouquet of flowers in honor of my birthday.  This was the way to start a 30th birthday!

We went out to lunch to celebrate my new role with the company (and my birthday).  I had a traditional pub dish of fish and chips and was allowed to leave work early.  Afterall, I had a party to prepare.  When I arrived home my flatmates were busy in the kitchen with a surprise cake for me (this was on top of the 31 cupcakes I had baked the previous night).  Another flatmate had a bouquet of tulips waiting for me as well.  Seriously - the day kept getting better.

I hurriedly got ready for the evening and then a few of us raced up the street to see some rally cars race around the Domain (a large park in downtown Auckland).  It wasn't nearly as exciting as I thought it would be, but still pretty impressive.  We stayed long enough to watch several cars hoon around a hairpin turn before catching the bus back to our flat in time for the guests to arrive.

By 8pm the food was out and we were ready (cupcakes, Jell-o shots, fruits and veges, cookies...basically enough to feed an army).  By 9pm we had a good gathering of people.  By 9:30pm the flat was full, alcohol was flowing, and chicken wings and another birthday cake appeared (this was brought by a friend and masterfully crafted as a cowboy boot).  By 10pm my flatmates surprised me with candles and everyone was singing a chorus of Happy Birthday (my three attempts to blow out the candles clearly highlighted my age).   At 11pm the landlord, who is also our neighbor, came by to yell at us for the noise.  At 1am everyone was heading home and somehow I managed to make it out to the bars (I should have stayed and crashed).  At 3am (after falling three times on the dance floor), I shook off the guy making futile attempts to keep my focus, and went to sit down with my friends.  I was ready for bed.

Saturday I was completely useless.  Clearly not as young as I used to be, my hangover prevented me from doing anything productive.  In all, I hung out with a group of wonderful people, had a very memorable night (despite alcohol's attempt to add a haziness to it all), and brought in the next decade of my life in style...as a cowgirl. My wish: That everyone can be as fortunate as I was on my own little New Year.