This year I spent my birthday 9000 kilometres away from home, in a tropical paradise with the amazing new mates I made. If you had told me last year at this time that this would be my reality I would have said duh, I’m planning for the trip over right now, you nincompoop. But if you had told me that this would be one of the happiest and most memorable moments and statements I would make in 2017, I wouldn’t have been sure.
Birthdays have always been an odd obsession of mine and I’d explain why this is so if the origin story wasn’t so dark. Essentially I rate people should be very grateful to be alive and to have been birthed (if this is what they wish of course). And every year, I come together with the people I hold dear to me – my female friends – and spend the day that I came out of my mom, jaundiced and cute as all hell. This year I asked my mother what time I was born, I figured she’d told me before and I’d just forgotten. She also doesn’t remember because how was she supposed to keep track of the time while enduring labour pains? Her words. But it was apparently any time between eight and ten, and I’ll take that. This explains my preference for sunsets over a sunrise. I’m a night queen (GoT wink).
My good friend Wendy invited me over to Phuket – to a less populated beach on Nai Harn and it was like something out of an actual dream. We started the day off at We Café for lunch where all of the produce is fresh and in-house. The rest of the day was spent on a beautiful blue water beach with cold beers in our hands and the sun gently embracing us, the water was cool enough and the beach was empty enough and my stomach and heart were full enough. In the afternoon we drove our scooter up a beautiful winding road, hugged by palm trees and other greenery on both sides, to the viewpoint overlooking the rest of Nai Harn and some islets off the gulf – I can still feel the breeze from up there right now.
Christina came in from our town in the evening and we sat down for a quiet al fresco meal at a Mexican style restaurant on the side of a busy road before heading to Patong for a more rowdy end to the night. We sang and danced and drank the night away – Grey Goose and Rihanna spurring us on – and returned to the hotel at the 3 in the morning. A fitting end to a wonderful birthday weekend. It sure felt really good to turn twenty eight.
Just a P.S, The following sub-title is not a Lana Del Ray song. It’s just a list of stuff that featured on my birthday. But I understand the confusion if there is any – it’s totally the same formula Lana uses to name her songs. Let’s proceed.
Pizza. Wine. Beyonce. Coldplay.
For the past 100 years my birthing day has always fallen on a weekend or on a cool day like Thursday. ‘The past hundred years’ refers to my favourite years, the only ones that matter – UNI YEARS! This year my beloved day of birth decided on Sunday Junior without even consulting me. Of all the years to have a birthday on a Monday… really? I’m like, ‘Dude, 24th, I could’ve partied on any day in uni. Not now! I work now, dummy – I need the weekend more than ever now!’. Even the knowledge that Lionel Messi is going through the same thing (because we share a birthday 😀 ) didn’t make me feel better, probably because he’ll get to party all he wants after practice. He’s Lionel Messi, duh.
So this year to make the most of my predicament, I decided to have a three-phase birthday week. I know it sounds excessive. It isn’t. The first day – my official birthday – was actually quite chilled. I invited my oldest and closest girlfriends (geographically and life-ically – also because they were free on friggin Monday!) and we all had a disgusting amount of pizza. There was cake, I got prezzies and it was magical, essentially. But we’re alcoholics so… yes, it happened. You know those really cool scenes in movies where the bffs get tipsy and dance around their apartment, like in Something Borrowed? You know how you feel all nostalgic for that kinda movie life stuff that doesn’t go down like that in real life? Well, I had that!
We danced around, hopping about (maybe even booty hopping… cringe) to some Beyonce. Alright, the chances of us booty hopping are pretty high when that woman and her music are in the mix. It was a whole lot of fun, or as they say – since I’m already on the ratchet boat, it was hella fun. And as you would expect, as the night died down and the wine bottles were starting to run dry (some now even drinking from them as is), Coldplay decided to join our party. And we sang along and put our lighters up in a really weird icky mooshy way. Thank god the wine ran out and we all remembered we had work the following day. Phew.
The sleepover pizza party was awesome, all in all.