This year for my birthday, a simple 22, I decided to keep things small. It also didn’t help that almost none of my friends were nearby, my birthday fell on a Thursday, and I had a quick road trip the next morning to get to the Potomac with my family.
I’d already treated myself to Prima Facie, my birthday gift to myself. Now all that was left to do was crack open a bottle of something, eat a slice of cake, and be happy.
At first I’d debated going out, taking a train for over an hour and getting Indian food at a place I’d wanted to try and still will. Instead, Valentina and I ordered in. We did everything else by the book: playing my favorite music, drinking the cheapest Merlot money could buy, and then cutting into a small, cute chocolate cake after she sang happy birthday to me. (She serenaded me in all of the different languages that she knew. LOVE).
It was the perfect homebody birthday for a homebody.
I had my favorite type of food, which is Indian, my favorite type of alcohol, Merlot, and one of my favorite people, my best friend Valentina, right there beside me. I was made to feel very special on this very special day. All was right with the world on my 22nd birthday.
Next year, assuming the stars align differently and I am surrounded by friends that also live in the city, I’ll snap polaroids and drink too much on purpose while having cake and good food out on the town. I might be closing down a nightclub or dancing on top of a bar, but for now a quiet birthday with a good friend is all I need. In the meantime, it is onwards and upwards to everything that my 22nd year has in store for me.
The Tragic Queen,
Raquel
The Tragic Queen 