Turning 40

Jenni’s birthday was today.  It was a beautiful day.  She turned 37 years old.

She has been a great mother, wife and person.  We have been so busy lately with the move that I didn’t really have time to plan anything.  The kids and I did get her two gifts.  Not spectacular ones, but there was meaning behind them.  I think she had a good day.

This year I turn 40.  It is kind of a big deal for me, but not really.  As far as the chronological age thing goes, I don’t really care that much.  On some days I still feel like I am in my 20’s, others my teens and still others I feel like I am in my 70’s.  I still giggle whenever someone says “number 2” and sagging makes me visually disgusted and angry (those damn kids these days).

I am kind of melancholy about turning 40 because I will be in a brand new country with brand new people half way around the world from anyone who knows me.  My friend Dan recently had his 40th Birthday party and he had this huge roast (you know, like the celebrity roasts of yesteryear?  Full of rude and crude jokes meant to make fun of the guest of honor, but in reality the raunchier the jokes the more loved and respected the person was?) and I didn’t go.  I couldn’t – there were these two assholes who may or may not have been there and I may have punched one of them in the nose, but that is a different story altogether.

In the movies and on TV (hell, in real life) the 40th birthday is a moment to be honored and revered with surprise parties, signs like “Lordy, lordy look who’s forty!”, and in the case of my uncle a surprise Belly Dancer.  It is the time that you invite your whole vast circle of friends to recount the first time you guys met and to make fun of your graceful or not so graceful aging.

I guess I can’t complain that much, I will after all be in an exotic foreign country surrounded by my fabulous family.  I mean, Dan did have the roast and all, but he had it at the Warren.  The only thing that is exotic about the Warren is the smell after an opening night party.  Just kidding Dan and Duane – that joke means I love you.

Ah well, I will be surrounded by my family and who knows, maybe I will make a ton of Bengali friends fast and they can roast me in Bengali.  I may not understand what they are saying but they sure will be dressed colorfully when they say it. Just kidding Bengali people.


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