I Am Not Celebrating My Birthday This Year
Long-term readers will know what a horrible birthday slut I am: I tell everyone weeks in advance about my birthday, I make up large and unwieldy Greed Lists, and it all culminates in a week-long orgasmic spasm of birthday celebration where large parties are held underneath a canopy of fireworks.
And I don’t feel like that this time around, which should tell you how bad things are at La Casa McJuddMetz.
I’ll probably push off the celebration to my book release parties in October, which will help. But now? In the light of Rebecca’s death, I’m feeling very introverted and not at all up to people. Which is sad. This is literally the first time in 45 years I haven’t had a big sloppy birthday party, and I hope it’s not some harbinger of the second half of my life.
In the meantime, if you feel like wishing me a happy birthday sometime between now and the Big Day on July 3rd, you can do it by ordering an advance copy of my upcoming novel, which if you’re pissed at Amazon for their recent shenanigans, well, Powell’s and B&N stock it. Or you can donate to the CureSearch for Children’s Cancer in Rebecca Meyer’s name.
Or just send me some private happiness. I like happiness.
We share a birthday! Happy birthday in advance. Having also experienced life’s sharp edges, I hope for the both of us that the healing goes smoothly.
You are a wonderful human being. And I’m sure next year you’ll have a party of crazy awesomeness, and hopefully I’ll be back in the states in time to attend. 🙂
Happy belated birthday. One of my favorite authors once wrote “Have cake any day you like, just don’t eat the candles.”
Belay your celebration as needed, hell put it off till the autumn or even next March when Lord knows we could use some celebrating (I am not a huge March fan). Then do it up right.
I hope your healing continues. I discovered your page today and have so far enjoyed what I have read.