There’s a good reason why I don’t tell many people, not even co-workers or the parents of the Goddess the date in which my birthday falls. It’s not that I don’t enjoy birthdays anymore, it’s just, in many ways perhaps I’ve outgrown the trappings of what birthdays used to mean.
But in order to learn what birthdays meant and what they mean for me now, you will need to read the full article on Medium, which can be found by clicking here, on the image or title above.
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I prefer spending the "Holiday Season" (including Thanksgiving in this) with friends over family. Probably not a shocker to those who know me. It’s also probably not a surprise to the majority of people in the U.S who feel some form of obligation to spend time eating dinner with Uncles and Grandparents that, if drunk enough (though not necessarily), will more than likely say something racist.
For a while now, I’ve been pondering why the "holiday season" irks me. To discover the depths of this irking, you gotta check out the post in its entirety over on Medium here or by clicking the title or the image.
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