Bad Birthdays

Every few years, a birthday comes that just simply sucks. No one remembers it. You don't have a cake. Or you get a terrible headache.
For my sweet sixteen, my friends planned a surprise party. I had sort of caught on, but I wasn't sure. I found out about it because my mom kept answering phone calls from people who were asking if it was still on, because of the snow storm. It was a really bad snow storm. we got more than a foot, i think. The party (and everything else in town) was cancelled. I laid in bed and cried, because my birthday was ruined. And really, no one (except my family) did anything to make up for it.
That was my worst birthday ever.
Until my thirtieth. Which was two weeks ago, and I still keep coming back to it, feeling disappointed. Maybe I just expect too much. My mom always makes them special, and she wasn't around, since she was at Mayo with my dad getting ready for his heart surgery. She's off the hook. But anyway, I guess it come sback to expectations, and should a grown woman really think that she shouldn't have to make supper or do anything she doesn't want to one day a year? I'd just spent two weeks with the "holidays" which were busier than usual. And then everyone went back to work, and my birthday was pretty much an afterthought. If a thought at all.
No presents. No cake. Just a bunch of people on facebook who never bother to talk to me any other day of the year saying "Happy Birthday" (and others who do talk with me regularily as well). It's supposed to be a milestone to turn thirty.
It came on a brown warm day in the middle of the week, with a migraine and a depressed feeling all day. I called Daniel at five and asked him to come home, and then I went and laid in bed and tried to make my headache go away. And cried.
I shouldn't complain, because some people did call. Some people did what they'd normally do. My best friend called first thing in the morning. My brother called and sang the stupid "You look like a monkey" song. Later he brought some left over cake he'd made for supper. A cuople of other friends called too, and I don't like talking on the phone a lot, but I like it when people remember I exist once in a while. And my brother and sister in law took me out for lunch. So it wasn't terrible.
It was just... just like any other normal, or slightly bad, day. And in my mind, birthdays aren't supposed to be like that.
But, for all of the bad birthdays, there have been several good ones too. Like my thirteenth, which was probably my favorite. Three of my favorite girlfriends came over. We went and saw Little Women in the theater (which has become one of my favorite movies), and stayed up all night talking. And then we went sledding the next morning.
And my nineteenth, when pretty much all of the people I liked came over to go sledding (yes, there is a theme here. It pretty much always snows by my birthday) and they brought presents, and we came back to the house and had cake.Plus, I'd just gotten engaged so everything that happened that year was great.
I think on my seventh birthday, my friend Stasia stayed the night, and then she had to stay at least one more day, because the whole driveway got iced over and we lived in the country so the drifts were too big. We thought that was pretty great.
And since it seems to be a pattern of prime numbers being great birthdays, I'll just mention, my third birthday was pretty great too. I had a ducky cake, and my grandma came. She gave me a red "Going to Grandma's" suitcase which I still have. I also got from someone, this really cool birthday cake puzzle, which I still have and is still one of the best toys I ever owned.
So they aren't all terrible by any meals. Maybe 31 will be the best yet. I guess I can wait a year and find out.