Ghosts of Birthdays Past.

I'm turning 33 this week and I've spent a fair amount of time thinking about that. Is it just me that thinks about how fast time actually travels (is there an equation for this?), and does this equation factor in the variable that as you age, time actually goes faster?

Eh? Riddle me that!

I remember when I was a kid, and 2 months of summer vacation stretched out before me like infinity. Of course it was only 60 days give or take, and yet it felt like glorious eternity. As adults, we're not blessed with this scale of time, because I'm pretty sure it was Christmas yesterday.

I have had a lot of very fun birthdays in my years. Stand out ones include turning 10 - DOUBLE DIGITS! (which remains a big deal according to the newly minted 10 year old I know). At age 10 I was obsessed with the 50's, and I had a theme party, complete with poodle skirts. And, obviously it was a slumber party, and no slumber party is complete without The Goonies.

I also remember my 16th birthday....this was my last "innocent" birthday. My friends came over, we ordered pizza and watched Empire Records. My new boyfriend was SUPPOSED to come later on, but he totally bailed (go figure he didn't want to hang out with a bunch of 16 year old girls, but I didn't really "get" that then), and it was our first fight. But I still married him, so obviously not only did I forgive him, but he got his first lesson in "how not to treat your girlfriend like one of your dude friends". I spent my ACTUAL birthday in Disneyland with my best friend and it was obviously the best thing ever.

At age 19, I had a civilized dinner party with my friends from high school....some of who I am still quite good friends with, and some of whom I only know are still alive from their Facebook pages (and one outlier who doesn't have Facebook, so I can't say for sure if she is still alive). None of my friends actually became of legal age for another few months, so I ended up going out with James and his friends, and we went to what should have been my first nightclub, but was actually more like my fourth. If memory serves me, we went to The Planet (which is now Upstairs), and I wore a backless shirt. How risqué! And it was THRILLING to dance to Hit Me Baby One More Time and not worried about the bouncer finding out you are only 18.

When I was 23, one of my besties threw me a little party, and we got very drunk, and they gifted me a gay porn magazine (which I then cut up and mailed to them individually in pretty little packages, which was genius, obviously). We went to this new club called Upstairs, and danced to That 70's Band, which we thought would be awful, but was super fun. My friend Jon showed up after his shift and drove me home, via a small detour to plaster gay porn on our friend Chris' house, who had the misfortune of being away during this sacred event (mind you, we had no tape, so this hilarious attempt was in vain), and I threw up outside of his car at the stoplight at Fort and Blanshard. Classy lady alert!

Age 24 saw me trying to redeem myself with a very civil sushi and movie night with a small group of close friends. I don't even remember what movie we saw....probably because I didn't have a blog yet.

At age 25, I thought I could drink like the big boys. I was into rye and water because I mistakenly assumed I was as hardcore as the gangsta rap I liked to listen to in my Impala. I was basically an asshole for this entire year. A large group of us started at Ferris', moved on to Darcy's, and then to Upstairs (where I believe I lasted about 35 minutes before heading to the bathroom to worship the porcelain god). I also may have thrown up a little on my pants on my way home in my friend Chad's car. And the next morning when I woke up, I had no memory of how I had gotten there, how I had gotten into my nighty, and wait...WHO THE HELL IS NEXT TO ME? Oh thank God it's my best friend. And with a pounding head, I remembered her gingerly attempting to feed me gluten free waffles on my bathroom floor to try and sober me up. That's what friends are forrrrrrrr.

The next two birthdays were very tame because I had turned over a new leaf, you guys.

At age 28, I had Jessica Simpson hair extensions and I WORE THEM IN PUBLIC. Enough said.

At age 29, a large group of us went to the Play Place, which is for kids, but also for adults like us. One word: BALLADIUM. We rented the place out, and had a hilarious time. We ended the night at The Reef, which in March, feels like a tropical vacation.

At age 30, I had a Vice Party, which is the BEST THEME PARTY IDEA EVER. And I take full credit for this idea, but you can use it. Everyone (except some losers who are too cool for school), came dressed as a representation of their favourite vice. I went as Facebook. It was an epic house party and I had an incredible time. I spent my ACTUAL birthday in the Cayman Islands, swimming with sting rays. Hard to beat. Really.

At age 32, I decided that I would organize a little party at the Bard and Banker, and invited 50 of my friends. And then realized that when you have your birthday at a bar, people WILL buy you drinks. I had a really fun time, but no 32 year old needs to drink that much, so I started throwing shooters over my shoulder just like they do in the movies. It works. James and I ended our night eating nachos in bed at 3 am, so really, it was quite perfect.

And here we are....the double 3's. My birthday is on Thursday, and I think James and I will be going out for a nice quiet dinner, and hopefully a movie.....that's all I want to do on the actual day. I am having dinner with my parents and my brother tomorrow night, and I got some friends together this past weekend for a little celebration dinner, after a night on Pender. It was lovely. And very much in line with the speed of my life these days....which is far more quiet than years past. It's been a long time since I have puked from drinking too much, and I think I can safely say that I have learned my limits. It only took my 20's to figure that out....but isn't that what your 20's are for? (I can see my mom shaking her head and giving me disapproving side eyes from here).

With this obvious level of maturity, it's only natural that I asked for a heart monitor for my birthday. You know, for my Zumba. Because that's what 33 year old ladies like.