Not-So-Happy Birthday

Thirty. Four.

I really wasn't in the mood to celebrate this year. The months leading up to my birthday have been among the worst of my life...my self-esteem has not been so low since I was a teenager. Celebrating 34 just didn't appeal to me because celebrating 34 meant acknowledging that I was turning 34 as an unemployed woman with very little purpose in life whose goals have been shattered after sending out over 20 job applications and not receiving one single call for an interview. Add onto that the 15 years I have spent becoming educated to do the job I am trained to do and the oppressive mountain of student loans I have accumulated to get that education and you can see where I might become a bit depressed. Not to mention the fact that even if I did get an interview I'd have nothing to wear because my wardrobe consists of three pairs of maternity pants and a handful crappy oversized shirts I keep wearing over and over again because I can't manage to lose a single stinking pound!

Yeah, so.

But, strangely enough, my birthday came anyways. Funny how that happens. And I ended up celebrating after all because in the end, it is MY SPECIAL DAY, and I just had to bask in it, failure or not.

May 18

• My dad is in town, so we go out for an early birthday dinner with him at ZoZo's Italian restaurant.

Husband seems to be just as excited as I am about my birthday!

M. chooses an entree.

May 21 (actual birthday)

• I go shopping at Target and use some of my birthday money to buy a dress to wear so that I don't feel like such a scuz wearing maternity pants to dinner on my birthday.

• Crystal comes over and we walk downtown for coffee and antique shopping.

"I have feet!"

• I don my new dress and gather my posse for dinner.

No, Ian is not feeling me up. The one day of the year I wear a dress, and Reno whips up a giant windstorm to blow my dress up over my head. Ian is only trying to keep me from flashing my goods to the camera.

"Mama's HOW OLD?!"

May 27

• Micaela takes me out for my final birthday present--tickets to see Cake. Great show. The pictures are all on Micaela's camera, so you'll just have to imagine me rocking out.
  

Last year at this time, I was very optimistic about being 33. I thought it would be one of my best years. I was wrong. I hate to say that, given that this year brought the birth of my daughter, but it is true. Last year I said that things would get better once Ian and I were out of the "heinous transitional period" that we were going through. And we are still going through it. I just don't understand how it is possible for a highly educated, hard-working couple not to be able to find decent employment. I don't understand why achieving one goal (having a baby) means that we have to sacrifice every other goal we have. I imagine that there is some old gypsy woman somewhere poking pins into dolls that look an awful lot like us.

But it is a new birthday, a new age, another year for things to improve...so here's to trying to be optimistic. Things will look up this year. They will. Really.