Old man's birthday

There is nothing special about getting old. In fact, people never cease to do so (Well, until they die, that is.). Still we continue to celebrate each time the Earth has done a total rotation around the Sun with each of us on it.

The first few times, we really don’t care. We’re more interested in sleeping, pooping and figuring out how the hell Aunt Maureen says “Pick-a-Boo!” and manages to disappear and then MAGICALLY REAPPEAR AGAIN! Then we like it (and by that I mean, really, really, really like it ohboyohboyohboyI’msoexitedIcan’twaitIcan’tsleepohboyohboyohboy). This is mostly because you get presents, cake, candy and the right to add an extra finger when your mommy asks you to tell people how old you are. The teenage years follow with all some great birthdays: Old enough to go out, old enough to not have to tell your parents when you’re getting home, old enough to drive a scooter, old enough to drive a car, old enough to drink alcohol (less than 22% at 18 and more than that at 20 if you’re Norwegian). So yeah, it’s pretty cool for a while. But then you become an adult.

When I say an adult, there is of course still a matter of what that means. I'm here simply defining adult as post-teen and with all rights and responsibilities society would normally throw at any sane person (and quite a few less-than-sane people). It’s debatable for certain social groups, like students, footballers and men, but that’s the definition I will go by. Anyway, it’s not like I was asking anyone, so now you may turn off caps lock. But I digress. After you've achieved status as a part of society, even the really low parts like politicians or bankers, there isn't much good ageing can do for you.

Sure, there are perks. No matter if you’re two or 82, you will for the rest of your life be able to look at those younger than you and be condescending. You’re older, more experiences. Of course you’ve got the right. After all, you lived through harder times than they ever did. But then there are all the negative things about getting old. First, the metabolism goes down: You actually can’t finish a large triple whopper menu with extra cheese and bacon. You may even find that the slim-fit jeans you wore at 17 are too small for you (I’m sure they shrank. What else could it be?).Then there is the physical deterioration: You first don’t feel like going jogging just because it’s a heavy snowfall outside and before you know it, you can’t run fast enough to tackle little Greek men who are running off with your rugby ball. There is also the mental deterioration, but I’m pretty sure that started long before I become an adult, so that’s not applicable.

With age, having your birthday suddenly doesn't seem as great as it used to. It serves as a reminder to you and everyone around you that you’re slowly but surely getting closer to falling into oblivion, Heaven or Hell, or maybe being born again (I want to be born again as a Komodo dragon. It may not breathe fire, or fly, but IT. IS. A. DRAGON!!!). Also, with age comes crankiness. All these young, carefree people are running around believing life is all about having fun and not enough about sitting and disapproving of what kids are up to these days. It really gets to you. It surely doesn't help that people want your stuff. They’ll be looking at you saying things like “That’s a really nice watch you've got there.” or “How much would your laptop go for on eBay?” Oh yes, I know what you’re thinking, I always do.

Thanks to Samantha Smith for taking this great photo of my 23rd birthday party. That cake was amazing.

One perk about getting older is the birthday party. But as a student, who really needs a reason to party? I've been to parties for celebrations I didn't even know existed until I receive the Facebook invite. So it’s silly to think you need a reason to have a party, and such an egocentric reason at that! However, there have been certain objections to me spending my celebrating my birthday solely with my house mates  This may have something with me only having one house mate this year, but it is tradition and I don’t argue with tradition (unless tradition is wrong and I feel like having an argument). Whatever the reason, some loud voices have gotten through and I have learnt that I henceforth need to keep quiet about it and remove my date of birth from Facebook. In addition, in an effort to try to conceal how much of a cranky old man I am becoming, I’ve decided I’ll really go all out and have a big birthday party this year. It will be bigger than anything I’ve had for years, with more preparations and celebrations than any party since primary school. It will so big, I will be remembering it for years to come.

That’s right. I’m going out for a drink. You can come too.