On birthdays and cheap wine

Today is my birthday…another trip around the sun. My liver is still holding on. My skin is still looking good, thanks to a sadistic new discovery called microneedling, aka the vampire facial. It basically involves jabbing microscopic needles into your face to cause regeneration. Kind of like an X-Men mutant process. I could support that superpower. And teleportation.

I dislike birthdays intensely. They were great until 35. I was thinking of that day today and realized that was the day that killed my birthday joy. Not coincidentally that was the last birthday with my ex.

The ironic thing is that is wasn’t just a day, it was an entire week. Birthdaypalooza I called it. I realize that makes me sound really old. Which I am now. I’m closer to 45 than 40. I’m past middle age on the life expectancy tables the government publishes. It’s quite traumatic when you realize that you’re over the hill.  It’s even worse when you’re priced out of even more online dating searches.  That pool is starting to look like a leaky inflatable cheap one from the Dollar Store. Anyway, back to Birthdaypalooza. It involved a trip to the Toronto Zoo, the IKEA outside Toronto, Niagara Falls. Two concerts by my favorite band and favorite singer. And my favorite singer actually dedicating a birthday song to me, because my jackass ex requested it. Here it is: Chris Trapper – Birthday Song. I’m not counting anymore.

And all the while, he had just reunited with his ex on Facebook just that week. He killed my birthday for me. And as much as I’m as healed as I think I will ever be from the betrayal, that’s just fucked up. I don’t remember much, because alcohol and dead brain cells etc., but I remember that night and being happy. I don’t have many happy memories of my ex. But that’s the last one.

It’s bad enough that he ruined New Year’s Eve for me with proposing on that night and marrying me on that night. He ruined my birthday. Well, until my 40th. See Exhibit A.  But this year I didn’t want another lonely, lame ass birthday. I’m fulfilling one of my post-divorce goals just for me. Just to remind myself I’m not dead yet. Although Miss Daisy is concerned I’m going to be kidnapped by ISIS. Oh, it’s still lonely birthday, but I’m taking myself to Iceland in 3 days. I can entertain myself. Stay tuned…

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