This birthday was definitely different than the twenty before; it was the first time I wasn’t excited weeks in advance, the first year I couldn’t share my birthday with my grandmother, and the first that I can legally drink. What a mix, right?
Whether this birthday is just a blip in my life-long obsession with my special day or maybe a sign I’m slowly changing, I did get that 21st moment I will never forget. I was in line for a bar on U Street at midnight on Saturday and was eager to show my ID to the bouncer. The bar and the line in were packed, and when I paused to tell the bouncer I was 21 and this was my first legal bar entrance, he looked at me like I was the gum on his shoes and pushed me through. In hindsight, I LOVED THIS, but in the moment I was very insulted. Why do I love this? I love that he did not care in any way about my birthday. It didn’t make me any less thrilled to walk in legally, but it was a humbling moment that reminded me birthdays are pretty silly affairs that bouncers/humans who have nothing to do with you may not care about.
But lastly, I’d like to thank the people who do care, and who made sure my birthday was memorable even when I wasn’t feeling it. And because they know food = memorable to moi, the food, as usual, was all there in it’s allotted times and places. Sushi on Friday night, Chipotle and my favorite Ahi Tuna salad on Saturday, and shrimp and grits at District Commons and lobster at home on Sunday. And how can I forget, the Baked and Wired birthday cupcakes my dad waited in line for! Cheers to legal cranberry vodkas, a lifetime of much classier drinks ahead, and to New Orleans next weekend!