It's my birthday ... so what?

Every year, the day after April Fool's Day, I turn another year older.
My birthday has become a milestone of sorts, more for the dead. Pope John Paul II died on my birthday in 2005. My great-grandmother died on Good Friday (April 2) in 1999.
Anyway, there have been monumental birthdays for myself, including my 16th, 18th and 21st. At least two of them included blowout parties with people that were awesome.
But now I'm "old."
Yes, I said it.
Gone are the "carefree" days to wear a "It's my birthday" tiara, T-shirt, heck, even a pin!
I am going to be ... 23.  Dun, dun, dunnnnnn.
I have realized a few things about getting older, and being single.
Just because it's my birthday, it doesn't mean I get off from work. Yes, most of the time I had school, but I had an excuse to be goofy or to not do anything that night.
Unless I am at my parents' house for my birthday, no one is going to get me a cake and sing to me, at least not this year. I, on the other hand, will be baking my own vegan yellow cupcakes.
Dinner is still an option, as I was taken out to my favorite restaurant for my birthday as a child. However, working night shift doesn't lend itself to that option.
The older I get, the less my birthday celebration is a week long. If I have a birthday close to a weekend, lucky me! I can extend my "crazy" plans to the weekend. But forget it if it's on a Monday. The celebration, if any, is significantly cut short as I age, no matter which way you slice it.
And even though I am now in the work force — as are many of my friends — there are no expensive gifts and lavish plans. Heck, I asked for a scale (about $40) and the Olay microdermabrasion kit (that costs $24) for my birthday! A new car (the van is getting old), a nice Tiffany's bracelet or the coveted Louis Vuitton purse would be LOVELY, but it's not happenin.'
But, lucky for me, I am only 23.
I can still say, "Leave me alone, it's my BIRTHDAY," or tack on that last line to any sentence when I want things my way. Don't feel like making an effort at something for the day? "It's my birthday." Wanting a nice neck massage from my boyfriend? "It's my birthday." Trying to convince my parents that I need their car to take a trip out West. "It's my birthday!"
I have to keep thinking of the positives, I guess, of being so young. I still have two more years (oh no! the dreaded quarter century!) until the car rental companies take off the fee for being under 25. No kids to take care of or husband to deal with on MY day; just me, a comfy couch and a fluffy robe.
And, you know — I could still wear the tiara.

— Bethany