Day 18 – Your favourite birthday

I'm not really that much for birthdays, at least not my own. When I was little I guess that the charm lied in having all eyes on me and getting presents, but now I feel birthdays are like any other days. They can be very pleasant of course, but I just don't have those sky-high expectations anymore. There is always something making them less than perfect. For instance, I had a very fun birthday party when I turned 7 or 8, but what ruined it was a pentathlon where my brother put black pepper in a bowl of flour with lumps of sugar that I was supposed to dig up with my mouth. I'm sure you can imagine the feeling in my eyes and nose when I dug in with my face...

Another example is that of last year, when I had a lovely celebration with some friends, kind of a combined birthday party and a farewell party since I was going to Madrid shortly after that. I had a great time, but I partly ruined it for myself by thinking of this one person who didn't show up and being full of melancholy because of my departure about a week later.




This is a picture taken on my second birthday. I have been looking through all these child photos, and found this one kind of funny, since I have a patch in my forehead which shows that I have always been good at unwarily hurting myself. Nowadays, I get my scars through jogging and mountain climbing, back then I got them by playing lively.

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