Yesterday was my sister’s birthday (Happy Birthday, Brianne!). She turned 24 and celebrated with a day of Starbucks breakfasts, flowers, chocolates, margaritas at lunch, cupcakes with candles and dinner with a friend. And I have to admit, I was jealous of all her birthday fun, which got me thinking about birthdays.
I have always love, love, loved my birthday — the one day all of my family and friends are forced to celebrate me and all the wonderfulness that I am. From the moment I wake up every August 13 to the moment I fall asleep, I indulge in everything and everyone I love and make sure that the entire world knows the day is about ME.
But yesterday, while I was busy being jealous that it wasn’t my birthday, I realized that something has changed. This year I’ll be turning 27, a number I am not entirely comfortable with. Turning 25 was fine. Turning 26 was a little bit unsettling. But turning 27 is gonna be bad. I just know it. Late twenties. Blek. How can that be any fun?
However, just because I don’t want to turn 27 does not mean I don’t want a day when everyone celebrates my wonderfulness. And so I’ve come up with a plan. Instead of a birthday, I can have a Charisse Day.
Charisse Day will be celebrated sometime in the early summer when the days are warm and long. And on Charisse Day, everyone who knows me will shower me with gifts and praise, sing me songs, write me poems and cook me dinners. Someone will buy me a cake, but instead of candles, it will be covered in those little sugary letters that spell out “Happy Charisse Day.” And instead of singing Happy Birthday, everyone will sing Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing simply because it is quite possibly my favorite song.
On Charisse Day, I won’t have to work, and all of my family and friends will be required to take the day off. (After all, if everyone was working all day, who would I celebrate Charisse Day with?) While all of the activities on Charisse Day will be chosen by me, the honoree, heartfelt surprises will be encouraged, especially if they fall into the shoes, bags, or clothing categories.
In short, Charisse Day will be like a birthday, but without the reminder that I’m turning a year older with absolutely no way to slow down the hands of time. Ah, yes. I can see it all shaping up nicely in my head.
Think about it: Who really needs birthdays when you can have Charisse Days?