Variations on an American Birthday Song
Personally, I’d Prefer Von Dutch by Charli xcx
Are we okay??? I’ll answer that — NO. The Presidential debates were sooo painful. I had to turn on Game of Thrones to see something less grotesque and gory.
On top of that, this is the last week I am 26. I was born on the third of July in 1997. Yeah yeah, it’s cool and all to be born near the Fourth, the fireworks and hot dogs and all that. But in my old age (heh heh) it’s become a little annoying. It’s no secret I dislike the holiday itself (well, apart from the hot dogs), but everyone is always busy at a lake house or someone’s BBQ. Not to mention, people are a little tired after Pride Month. Hell, I’m already tired and I’ve barely left my house.
This is the first year where I actually feel… a little older. (Everybody SHUT UP!!!! I’m sorry okay?? I know I’m not getting enough sleep, and neither are you, alright?? I can feel old without feeling bad about it). After all, this is the youngest I’ve ever been, and the oldest I’ll ever be. Wait… is it the other way around? Okay, yeah, scratch that, it’s this is the oldest I’ve ever been and the youngest I’ll ever be. 26 was a good year — and I’m not sad it’s ending. But the prospect of saying that I’m 27 is a little intimidating. I am imagining people assuming that I should have more of my shit together… or that I should be more of a complete person by now… that I should be able to say the perfect thing and charm everyone in the best way at any and all times. Because that’s what 27 year old women do, right??? Ugh, I need to watch Frances Ha (2012) again this week — that’s EVERYONE’S homework, okay? There will be a quiz next week.
I understand this is a little silly. This is all a LOT silly. But as we consider what a Brat summer means to us, I think it means to me that I can acknowledge that I’ll always be a little messy and a lot silly. I’ll be insecure. I’ll fall in love again and again. I’ll need hype up music just to get out of bed. I’ll think about having babies. I’ll think about doing coke in the bathroom. Oh, and I’ll definitely make you guess the color of my underwear. And it’s OKAY to be thinking all these things. Every thought everywhere all at once.
So this year, I am proposing that my friends sing me Von dutch by Charli xcx instead of Happy Birthday. I will choose to think of it as a prophecy, as an incantation, as an affirmation that we are all collectively in our ~Brat~ eras.
I’ve been dreading having to say that I’m 27. But, have I not been slowly becoming 27 this whole time? Why do I fear the finality of midnight on my birthday? Do I invite all my friends to my party so I don’t have to feel afraid alone? I’d like to think that my younger self would be happy for me right now. How sappy, right? But I suppose that’s all I can hope for at this age, at this point in my life. I’m still young enough to focus on myself, but I’m old enough to know that not everything is about me (well, apart from my birthday). As Charli says in Von dutch, “it’s so obvious, I’m your number one.”
