Birthday in Berlin
Last week I turned 29, and thanks to the modern wonder that is Facebook’s Birthdays app, a few people wanted to know if I had any grand designs for marking my losing battle against entropy. I didn’t. There’s a worrying lack of grand designs in my life that I compensate for with last minute planning, and if this fails, with generous amounts of alcohol. I have also been known to combine these two into last minute drinking sessions. So true to tradition, that’s what I decided to do last Saturday. It was after all my first birthday in Berlin.
Normally I’m quite reluctant to host parties, not because I’m averse to celebrations, but because I worry whether bringing all my acquaintances under one roof will turn me schizophrenic. Allow me to explain. What all these people have in common is me, different mes. Some people know the work me, others are more familiar with the German course me, some interact with Spanish me whilst others prefer the Danish version, and many have only met the English me. Bring them all together and I’m no longer sure who the real me is anymore. I’m like an onion suffering an identity crisis. Each layer only brings another layer and me closer to tears but with no sign of a kernel, because it is an onion. And turning into a giant onion tends, in my experience, to put a damper on parties.
The party, though, turned out to be a success and I was overwhelmed with the number of people who turned up on such short notice. Although now that the onion story and my penchant for tortured analogies are public knowledge, I might expect a drastic drop in attendance next year. But no really, thanks to all of you who made my first birthday in Berlin such a special day. You get a special AWESOME award. Thanks for the many thoughtful gifts that addressed all the different mes and for the generous amounts of alcohol that hit all of them equally hard. Did I mention you’re awesome?
