celebrate yourself, don’t wait for others to celebrate for you
I was told when I was born, my parents told me when my birthday was even though they didn’t celebrate it much. Years later, when I needed to prove who I was I discovered that I was a day older than I’d been told, which means I’m a little bit Pisces as well as a lot of Ares. If you believe in astrology, spirituality, and witchcraft that explains why I’m sometimes a messed up artist / engineer.
Growing up in a coal mining village, going to school at Bog Row Junior Mixed and Infants, living a ground down life in a dirt poor town, did not encourage me to look forward to anyone’s birthday. Being the shy kid at birthday parties does not win medals and kisses.
In lots of ways I am an average guy. I do not remember dates of things women find important; anniversaries, Valentines, Thanksgiving, Birthdays….. (Actually St. Valentines Day is hard to forget, my florist reminds me.) Ergo, in my diary I write down the dates of my friends’ birthdays, starting with a note the week before that says things like; Faye’s Birthday next week. I am sorry if you women think that is crass, and that I need to be reminded to send flowers, but at least I try.
When I was working for a living my secretary would remind me of my birthday because it was expected that I would buy cakes for everyone in my office, and book a table in the good wine bar for a favoured few. Champagne and nibbles, no work that afternoon, taxi to the train station for girls a little too drunk to walk.
I know, shallow and crass, But shallow and crass was all I had.
Some say that when you are born describes who you are. And that an Ares male is not to be trusted around women. All I know is that I did not forget my friend’s birthday, no matter what she believes.
Happy Birthday Sweetheart