When I was younger I always looked forward to my birthday.  A special day to celebrate me with my friends and presents?  What’s not to like?  But, as with most people, the fun of having a birthday faded as the years went by.  I guess cynicism took over, and childhood magic met reality.

What I remember most about my birthday parties is Carvel’s ice cream cake.  You know, the kind with the crunchy cookie bits sandwiched in the middle of chocolate and vanilla ice cream with the waxy frozen icing.  We only got to have it on our birthday so it was a special treat.

This year I have found myself counting the days until my birthday.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve had a rough couple of years, or maybe because my perspective on life has changed, or because I’ve come to terms with my mortality.  I don’t know.

What I do know is that I’m genuinely happy that I’ve made it through 33 years of life, and I’m looking forward to sharing a ‘Thanksgiving’ meal with friends.  And, while my birthday cake won’t be from Carvel, I’m excited to introduce Carol to the princess cake.  It’s amazing to me that a person who loves marzipan as much as she does has never had it.