Birthday in the Dessert (oops Desert)

With the milestone birthday occurring last year, this one really didn’t seem to be that important to me, and for the first time since I can remember, I had to be reminded 2 weeks out that my birthday was arriving. Usually I would have had some form of celebration planned months in advance, losing sleep over the invitations and venue, whether it be drinks at the Brekkie Creek in Brisbane, a dinner with family at a nice Italian joint (as long as it was gluten free!!!) or dancing the night away til the early hours. This year felt a bit anti climactic.

With the drama of last years birthday over (turning 30 is overrated) I really don't have the same desire for limelight as in the years passed anymore. I mean, hardly exciting when your closest friends are scattered over the world and your family are half a planet away. And working with an almost ‘standby’ schedule for 10 weeks at a time, I had no way to plan anything special (or let anyone plan it for me). With online helpers like social networking site Facebook reminding people when it is your birthday, I deleted that functionality months ago, so really no one would know it was my birthday unless I told them.

Bearing witness to 5 months worth of how expats celebrate birthdays here in the desert (many celebrations over as many weeks, puts the original Festival of ME# to shame), I thought I would much rather lay low and if anything, just have a nice dinner on the day with my man, and maybe a couple of friends.

In the end, it was a lovely weekend with my man taking me across the border for an appetiser of cocktails followed by our favourite restaurant and a bottle of wine. The next day entailed a pool party at one of the pilot's houses with my ‘actual’ birthday one day later taking me by complete surprise at the end of the weekend by turning into a really special day. Delicious dinner with a few select friends who amazed me with my favourite tiramisu cake after dinner and the best birthday present - the Calvin Klein watch I have been searching for a year and happened to conveniently turn up at my local mall last month. I got a surprise (well kind of as I actually asked for it...) birthday card sent in the mail from my Nana of which I look forward to every year as she makes it herself and this time she didn’t get delayed in Melbourne on her way to see me in Brisbane reminiscent of last years 'festival' as obviously I was not there to be visited.

All in all, turning 31 actually seemed to be less eventful and maybe a lot more pleasant than turning 30. Not that the number bothers me, but perhaps this year because there was less of an intinerary, there was less that could go wrong...mental note for next birthday...PLAN NOTHING!!!

# Festival of ME a term coined by the lovely L for my 29th birthday in London, when the celebrations accidentally lasted over a period of a few weeks. This reference has now stuck with all my immediate family calling my 'birthday period' the 'Festival of ME'.