Overthinking: Birthdays and Parties

This year, I will be 28 years old. 28 is not a traditionally special birthday (unlike say 21 or 40.) That's doesn’t mean it isn't special. You see, I SURVIVED twenty eight years. Despite chronic migraines, modern education, homicidal technology, and a vindictive pear tree, I've still here.

This calls for a party! However, as I've sent out invitations, I've hit a problem. Getting a bunch of friends in one place is a lot harder than it was in grade school.

Basically, all my friends are older. They have jobs and spouses. Also, they 'grew up.'

Weirdly enough, adults are harder to bribe than children. Chilled watermelon and a waterballoon fight just doesn’t catch their attention. First question out of their mouths, “Will the melon be spiked with something strong?” (No, the melon will be sliced with a knife.)

I've noticed the favorite excuse is “I'm just too tired” ...unless I mention something exotic like a paid laser tag session or a night at Dave&Busters. Oh, boy...

In my vocabulary, “I'm tired,” means I need to switch into low gear. That means a day reading, napping, and maybe an evening walk. (It's an introvert thing.) I don't look for adventures or busy work.

So the idea than my friends are too tired/busy to set and eat watermelon on the porch, but are fine for a loud, crowded arcade...?

In the words of Phoenix Wright, "OBJECTION!"

Right now, the only thing between my friends and an epic Birthdayzilla stomping (lesser known cousin of Bridezilla) is a bit of foresight.

You see, I don't want the 'princess treatment.' I haven't since I since I was a teenager. Sitting in the center of a room as a line of well wishers and tribute pass along sounds exhausting. If I pitch a fit, all get is guilty and annoyed vassals.

My idea of a wonderful birthday isn't an event or a fancy meal. It's something much, much harder to get. I want to put my favorite people in the same room; then to sit down in a comfy chair and bask. No weird party games, no long speeches, just watching and listening to them.

It's not so much the princess treatment as the dragon treatment. I'm greedy and want their time. I want to spend an hour or so just being still because the adult world is nuts. I horde those quiet little nothings. However, you can't force them into being because that pressure taints the moment.

Being adult means you've learned to pick your battles. I know the watermelon and water fight is not happening. I know I have to plan food and beverages so my people don't wander off before I get a good basking started. I know I have to not over-think the 'polite' excuse so we can all save face. (I also know not to let a ideal spoil the reality.)

Adults are harder to coordinate than children. However, dragons are nothing if not

cunning. It may take a bit of flexible thinking, but I'm going to celebrate this birthday with my friends – without having to garish it with sky diving or bar hopping.

(Hmm, now there's a story idea. What kind of dragon fusses with a parsley garnish?)