Let's Play a Game

Happy Valentine’s Day!! I hope you’re eating candy hearts or at least wearing red and smiling at people you don’t know. So, guess what?! Tomorrow’s my birthday. And one of my favorite things about my birthday is that it is, indeed, the day after Valentine’s Day. [I am worth every discounted penny of “day-old” flowers and balloons and donuts. In fact, I delight in them.]

Last year, when I turned 27, I had a really unusual and fun day. An interesting turn of events [a.k.a. the lunar calendar] caused my birthday to align with that of the Prophet Mohammad’s. And do ya know what that means? I’ll tell you: it meant no work. For nearly the whole country. It. Was. GREAT! On a Tuesday, we all had off, because it was my birthday.

You may or may not need to know this, but: I would get really shy about buying toilet paper from local dukans [neighborhood convenience stores]. For some reason, I just couldn’t bear buying toilet paper from men in a small room. I couldn’t do it. Roommate would make fun of me and, well, we would use tissues. Yes, we would. In my country, the plumbing systems weren’t equipped to handle TP anyways, so there was always a little garbage can for it next to the toilet and a bidet. Well, I rolled up clean towels and decoratively stored them in my unused bidet, and when we ran out of toilet paper, I’d also place a box of tissues in there, too.

Some people thought this was so funny—that I wouldn’t buy toilet paper and that Roommate was just as stubborn and wouldn’t buy it for us/me. My first birthday visit of the day proved to be incredibly awesome. My friends came over, a mother and daughter team of fantastic-ness, and had a HUGE present wrapped up for me. It was an “economy-sized” pack of toilet paper. EIGHTEEN ROLLS, people. Yes, this toilet paper lasted me the rest of my days in the desert. I never again had to “not go buy TP,” nor did I stash tissues in the bidet. So fabulous. And so thoughtful. [I’m STILL thankful.]

The rest of my day included ice cream, more visits, and a homemade dinner [of not Arab food] with my most wonderful and dear ex-pat lady friends. I even had a birthday cake—yellow cake and chocolate frosting—my favorite, with “26 + 1” candles on it. [There was a minor argument over how old I was actually turning. Haha.] I took the liberty of making a collage of my day—or at least the photos I can show you here.

This year I’m celebrating 28 years of goodness by… going to work. But, I knew if I gave you the chance, you’d give me a sweet gift. Here’s the deal: All I want for my birthday is… your [sentence] story. The thing I most look forward to on my birthday is announcing that it’s my big day to total strangers and then asking them where they were and what they were doing when they were my age. It’s that easy. [And you’re not even strangers.] I like how people take the moment to “think back” to what they were doing in life. In my mind, it gives them a chance to see how far they’ve come and hopefully recognize all the great and precious milestones they’ve had in life. [I don’t think we do this enough.] Some of your memories may be long ago, or just this year, but regardless—won’t you play along?

So, my sweet friends who check on this Yellow Dress
and other things we do for love!
Where were you and what were you doing
when you were 28-years old?

[And if you’re not 28 yet, tell me where you think you’ll be by then—like, in life.]

{{Please remember that your comment will get… bumped off if you use any words that are uncomfortable or reason for suspect by some internet browsers for our sisters in the Middle East. [I totally got their backs.] So stick to words like “serving,” “worker,” “Father,” “His Son,” and whatever combination of $+@ symbols you can use. I totally and completely appreciate you respecting this. I know it’s hard, but get creative! I want TYD to be a safe place for our friends.}}

Ooooooh!!!!! I’m so excited.

Ready?

GO!