Birthday Week (?) Itinerary

So, I’m turning 40 this week (on Thursday). Four decades on the planet earth is weird, but fine. As Paul Rudd said in 40 Year-Old Virgin, “Forty is the new twenty.” Um, ok.

Anyway, I’ve noticed a trend of people having a birthday “week” where they celebrate for an entire week with dinners, lunches, parties, etc. I’m clearing a decade and I can’t even see a need for me to celebrate for a whole week.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got my own way of celebrating that involves sandwiches, Cinemax and something I like to call “sitting,” but I just wonder why the need for many parties. It’s like when people get married and have a bridal shower, a couples shower, a bachelor/bachelorette party, another shower, an orgy, a bar mitzvah, a blessing from the Pope and the sacrificing of human baby flesh on top of the wedding, the reception and the honeymoon. That seems like overkill.

In lieu of an entire week of birthday partying, I will be having a party on Saturday and the rest of the week will be filled with, what else, me talking. Hey, if you don’t have to take me to dinner all week, the least you can do is read my blog, right?

On my calendar for this, my final week in my 30’s:

1. Put my house on the market.

This has been coming but the sign will go up end of the week. It’s freaking me out, but it’s good.

2. Blog posts representing my 30’s.

Rather than try to recap the hilarity that is my whole life, I’ll just run through the decade that was my 30’s. Believe me, it’s strange enough to count as more than 10 years. I’ll have some of my standard posts – Light Rock Monday, Tubesday, etc – dedicated to that and some additional stuff just for fun – ok, my fun, but whatever.

3. Cake

I’ll be eating a lot of cake this week because, well, I love it.

4. Work

Yes, I’ll be working. Blah, blah, blah.

5. Learning the ancient art of calligraphy.

Mainly, so I can learn to write “ye olde douchebag” in fancy drawin’ language. I will then scrawl it on each and every Hummer in the parking lot at Pearl Bar until such time as I am killed by some drunk, bald guy wearing Ed Hardy saying, “What do you think you’re doing to my ride, bro?” or I am lauded as the greatest person ever to live.

Ok, I probably won’t do that, but I need some goals for the next decade too.

That covers it. Keep reading because, you know, it’s literally the least you can do.