Happy birthday, Dave!
My mom's 50th birthday was on Monday, so happy birthday Mom!
The ways people deal with birthdays are kind of strange. My mom had a small party with her best friend, but Dave seems to want to ignore his birthday entirely. I like celebrating birthdays -- to me, age is just a number, and birthdays are more about having one day special for you a year, rather than about growing old. (Exceptions being ages 16, 18, & 21, where the gov't gives you legal presents as well...) I fret about growing up (both in the "eek, more responsibility" and the "ack, grey hairs and creaky joints") a lot -- if anything, my numerical age always seems to lag behind the age I feel. (Probably comes from usually being younger-than-average among my friends, especially since I think I'm the absolute youngest in my current crowd.)
And I'll stop now, before I go into another angsty ramble about how I'm terrified of the prospect of graduating and getting a real job and maybe a real house and a real car. (As opposed to ones made of cheese. Er.) Young yuppie adulthood awaits me?