There should be some rule against inclement weather on your birthday. Now, I know the impossibility of this request, since if everyone had a sunny, beautiful, San Diego-esque day on the anniversary of their birth, there would be 365 days of fabulous weather in every city in the world. (Now, that doesn’t sound that bad, does it?) But still – I want the Cinderella “window thrown open, birds chirping, song in the air” kind of day when I have to usher in the big 2-7. What do I get? Gray. Rainy. Humid. Ick.

Oh well, even though the birds aren’t chirping against my idyllic window, I’ve got the proverbial song in my heart, as cheezy as that may be. My birthday is my favorite day of the year; and yes, I’m fully aware that this stems from my only child-dom. It’s a sharing, “All About ME” thing, and though I’m loathe to admit that in some ways I fall into the quintessential only child whose stigma I’ve come to despise, in this case, it’s spot on. Even Christmas can’t compare to June 8th – after all, even though I didn’t have to share my presents and surprises with siblings, I DID have to share the delight with friends, family, and neighbors. Instead of “All About ME”, it’s more like “sorta kinda a bit about me and all of the other children of the world.” Which is fine and dandy and special and magical, mind you, and I can’t wait to share this experience with my own kids one day, but in the meantime, the birthday takes the (pun intended) cake.

Thus far, it’s been a fabulous day. I’ve gotten flowers from my darling Mom, a little trinket from the cats (courtesy of aforementioned darling Mom), a gift package of glorious wonderfulness from My Darling Roommate, a cute-as-pie bag from the superb Brandy, a book and naughty lip gloss from the ever-generous Kelly, and even an iPod mini from my Dad. In Pink, to boot! I’ve had twenty+ emails from people near & far that were so sweet that I’ll even forgive one of them for thinking I was 29. (The audacity…) I’ve got a lunch of decadence (within reason – after all, I’m in the midst of Bikini Boot Camp, a 30-day training program providing sore muscles and extreme exhaustion, not to mention a healthy eating plan, to ensure a bikini-ready body by July – argh), a dinner this evening with my nearest and dearest (minus one, who has a certain pool tournament to play in), fun times on Thursday to celebrate my friend’s birthday, Friday night birthday dinner with aforementioned pool-playing cute boy, and Saturday tops off the first week in the Month of Aubrey with my chi-chi Diane von Furstenburg cocktail soiree full of flowing drinks and fantastic times. I’m a happy, lucky, somewhat-giddy birthday girl.

Which is how all birthdays, only-child or otherwise, should be.