When I was at high school a birthday meant having helium balloons tied to your bag, to being given multiple bouquets of flowers. It meant people leaving surprises in your locker, and messages on the board in your classes. It meant alot of fuss.

I don’t like fuss so much. In high school I would tell my friends that my birthday was in March, and then in March I would tell them it was in October (3/10 and 10/3 and all that). I had two birth certificates that supported this, but mostly it meant I could avoid the FUSS.

Now that I’m much much older, I ENJOY the fuss. I love that people send me texts to let me know they are thinking of me, that my closest give carefully thought out presents and are happy to dance around drunk with me. That they are happy to celebrate that I lived to exist another year!

So, naturally I enjoy this fuss TWICE a year. It seems a bit greedy, I know, but it appears that in this time and age there can never be enough reasons to celebrate happy things. And, I’m a bit sneaky – I never tell people which birthday is ‘the real’ one, for fear of only getting to celebrate one. The Boy cheated by asking my Mother which month I was born in. No one else has been that clever :P

In the March birthday I usually celebrate with Cake and a fancy dinner out. This year I brought an extra large chocolate cake into work to share with everyone, and it was great! Last October (or rather the October before. Last October I celebrated in hospital) I made birthday cookies for the people at work, and had a rocking party which all my friends came to. What I remember of it was brilliant!!

This year, I celebrated all quiet like at home with my Dad, The Boy and Sibling. We’ll all go out to dinner sometime next week, but in the meantime, we had cake. LOTS of cake. Two, large chocolate cakes, in fact.

This is me and my dad, with the smaller cake – super chocolatey rich with marshmallows. For my First Birthday of the year, yesterday was a pretty good day. :)