Boyfriends of Birthdays Past

Birthdays have become full of pressure ever since that song Birthday Sex by Jeremih came out. Birthday sex? Yeah, it’d be nice! But sadly, my track record hasn’t shown much of that birthday gift.

Let’s take a look, shall we?

18 – I went to college as a fresh baby-faced 17-year-old ready to take on the college world.  Being 17 for the first half of freshman year made no difference to me, however, turning 18 in college was a big deal to others.  I got quite a few “You’re not even 18 yet?!” questions from concerned coeds, but whatevs, I’ll be 29 when they’re 30.  When we went to the bar to celebrate that night, I had to table the whole birthday thing, as my ID read that I was Ashley, a 22-year-old from Georgia.  Birthday fail.

19 – Ashley from Georgia was now 23; and as Blink 182 reminds us that nobody likes you when you’re 23, well apparently nobody likes you when you’re 19 either.   I was unable to celebrate my birthday at the bar, and still went home boyfriendless.

20 – What could be a better place to celebrate leaving the teenage years behind than Barcelona, Spain!  I had planned for about 30 of my closest friends to be there for the weekend, so I knew I had to show them a good time.  Being legal was a whole new ball game, so no need to worry about ID situation at the college bar (see ya later Ashley from Georgia).  I had chosen a tapas restaurant in the center of the city, but tapas, wine and birthday chupitos for dinner probably wasn’t my best idea.  Tapas are great when you’re out with girlfriends and want to casually pick on a few apps, but when you have a night out in Barcelona, no bueno.

In true Barcelona fashion, we didn’t get to the club until midnight, and had a smaller group by this time.  We had about 15 girls accompanied by one lone guy, my cousin who was visiting from Florence.  Of course, his odds were amazing and we all expected to breeze through the line.  The girls went in one at a time, until my cousin was forcibly stopped and told to pay 500 euros…to enter a club with 14 young, beautiful American girls.  I tried to reason with the bouncer in my minimal Spanish until he told me to go down the stairs and more or less gave me a slight push on my shoulder when I didn’t agree with him keeping my cousin out. The slight push left me tumbling down the stairs of Opium, and right into the VIP section.  I made friends with a Spanish man in an amazing fur jacket and when I announced “Es mi cumpleanos!” , I got a birthday kiss.  I’ll assume that the rest of the night was amazing… to a point, because my hangover the next day left me alone in bed, without a Spanish man in a fur coat to keep me warm.

21 – One word: Icehouse.  Please refer to previous blog post.

22 – Ah, I had a cute French boyfriend when I was 22 (cue Taylor Swifts epic “22” hit)!   This will be a future post, so I’ll keep this short and sweet.  I was living in Paris at the time, and was en amour avec un homme français.  We had only been dating for a few weeks, but he was very excited about throwing me a birthday party.  The only caveat was that he didn’t live in Paris, and wanted to throw my party in the ‘burbs where he and his friends live.  That’s comparable to him living in NYC and me throwing him a party in Stamford.  No thanks.  I broke the news to him that morning that my friends and I would not be making the trek out of the city, and luckily his English wasn’t that great/my French sucked so I couldn’t really understand what he said to know if he was upset or not… raising your voice is a form of endearment in French, oui?  Regardless, I had a very enjoyable birthday dinner with friends, but had no boyfriend to French kiss in France.  il était tragique.

23 – New year, new boyfriend.  I was back in NYC, had started a new job and had a cute American boyfriend.  (That’ll be another blog post, don’t worry.)  He came into the city the Friday after my birthday to take me out to a fancy dinner, and I had texted a few friends to see if anyone was around to meet up after.  It was late notice and nobody was really around, so a few friends and I went to a bar in Murray Hill (lol to being 23 in NYC).  They figured the downstairs bar would be less crowded so we went down and SURPRISE! My adorable boyfriend planned a surprise party for me!  I was so surprised that I cried at the sight of my favorite people.  I had never picked up on the secret, and it was a great time catching up with friends after having been away for the past year.  This was a successful happy birthday, happy boyfriend story. 1 for 6!

24 – Single in NYC.  So single that I honestly can’t even remember any boy in the picture for this birthday. Serious fail.  I think I made out with someone in front of my dad, but can’t confirm.  Either way I had no boyfriend at the end of the night.

25 – Still single in NYC and having a quarter century crisis.  Think I might have to save this for another post, LOL. But I’ll give you a preview that it ended with me popping a bottle of champagne on Metro North. It’s best after midnight.

What will 26 bring? Well who can say, but if all goes well, maybe I’ll meet him at 4am tonight when I’m getting two slices of 99 cent pizza.


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