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This Day Is Your Day, This Day Is My Day

I turned 28 years old today, and it was hectic but otherwise completely unremarkable.

Just the way I like it.

A beautiful morning for some gym time, barely making it to Humanities in time to administer the midterm, after which Steffen and I sang the theme song from Maude (because, why wouldn’t you?). Then I taught 2 classes about commedia dell’arte, the highlight of which was during my first class when a student almost cracked his forehead open in an improv game, and then when I broke a piece of chalk while writing on the board, and then proceeded to lambaste the broken piece for not being a team player.

Then, when I thought things couldn’t get any better, my parents showed up (well, I knew they were going to), and then we went to dinner at Naf Naf and to the Union to see Arlo Guthrie in concert. Our seats were in the nosebleed section, but singing along to “Alice’s Restaurant,” “The City of New Orleans,” and “This Land is Your Land” with my mother (and Arlo, at the opposite end of the room) was one of the sweetest gifts of all.

I have been celebrating my birthday wrong all these years. It took me 28 years to realize this, but now I know how do it. It’s not about how I celebrate, or it being my day. It’s not even about growing up or getting older. It’s about being with the ones you love, and just celebrating life in general. For me, it is a happy birthday when the ones I love are happy being with me.

Quote of the day:

ME (to my class, after the commedia game): Good job everyone, that was fun. Did you have fun? Well, I had fun, and that’s all that’s important, because I’m a selfish person and that’s really all I care about.

Happy birthday, everyone everywhere.

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