Damn you Facebook! There I said it; and I mean it. Damn you.
Facebook, you suck!
image: guyism.com
It’s not bad enough that I am turning fifty (that looks better than the numbers) January 9th, but Facebook went and told everyone that my birthday was today, the 8th. As the date has creeped up on me… say, over the past 40 years… I thought it wouldn’t matter. Just a number, I’ve blithely said on more than one occasion. I teased Smart Guy, when he had a fairly impressive mid-life crisis, upon reaching his 50th, two years ago. You’re so silly, I told him. I thought I was above all of this fiftieth birthday anxiety stuff. I’m not.
Right around Christmas, I suddenly realized that the end was nigh. My forties were gone. Poof! No book published; chin beginning to sag; eye drooping; knee surgery; and no book published. That’s the biggie. I saw two weeks of my forties left and my heart started to race a little. My hot flashes got a little hotter. Coincidentally, I had to renew my license (they don’t actually require it upon reaching AARP status, it was just time)… And my new picture looked much older. Never mind that it is in fact ten years older than the last one—it looks it!
Fillers! Fillers! I screamed! Botox! Get me Botox! I wailed. Rio! I’m going to Rio… they know how to do anything there! I searched Kayak in earnest for deals. There were none. In my magnifying mirror— necessary for the failing eyes, but less and less appealing visually— I pulled my chin back, and looked for my 30, 40 year old self. She was holding on by a thread… if the chin was pulled tight enough.
That’s a lot of fire!
image: http://www.squidoo.com
All of this is bad enough. All of this is enough to make a pulse race and fill my dreams with falling elevators, dense forests, and spilled ice cream (don’t ask)… but then Facebook sucks had to go and make it worse. Somehow one person got my birthday wrong. They posted a Happy Birthday message today, on the 8th, because of a misguided Facebook sucks prompt, no doubt, and everyone else got a newsfeed item that implied it was my birthday, and… It’s not! As it does in the world of Facebook sucks, however, things snowballed, and day-early-birthday-greetings rolled in. I am still 49 as I write this. Forty-nine (the hyphen looks worse)! Damn you Facebook sucks!
Admittedly, I won’t mind them blasting my birthday news to everyone, tomorrow—or, today, as you read this— But they went and blew out my candles, before I was officially ready for the cake. I wanted one last day of pre-AARP’ness. I had my last 40’s haircut today; I was in my forties all day… until Facebook sucks, with it’s busybody, misinformed, blabber mouthing ways, went poking everyone with stuff that isn’t their business… until the 9th.
This is 50 too.
image: http://www.autoblog.com
For the record, I was born on January 9, 1963. I had my first baby portrait taken the day Kennedy was assassinated; my Mom heard the news in a department store. I got married when I was 24, which seemed old at the time. I had my first baby at 27. She’ll be 23 next month—way too young to meet someone and get married! I had my last baby when I was 33. That seemed old to be having a baby, but it wasn’t. When I turned 40, I vowed to write a novel and get it published. I read that Maya Angelou published her first novel when she was 40. I had no expectations of being anything close to the amazing Ms. Angelou in talent or success, but her story gave me hope. Here it is, the eve of my 50th birthday and I need to find a new inspiration. If you know one, share it in the comments. I was busy PTSA’ing, baking, carpooling and saying I wanted to write, in much of my 40s, and I’ve been too scared looking at options since.
So Facebook, you suck! I had one more night to still be in my 40s, and think I might do it. Or, not feel like I’m in my 50’s and haven’t done it. My birthday is tomorrow, and after waiting 50 years for it, I think a certain social media mega-jerk, could have waited 12 more hours before blabbing it all over. Just because they’re in every country of the world, and it’s technically my birthday lots of other places, doesn’t mean my friends needed to hear about it a day early.
I have my cake, and I’ll eat it too… with a single candle.
I’m going upstairs to put candles on the amazing chocolate cake, that a friend baked and delivered to me tonight (not because of FB sucks, but because she wanted me to have it early). I’m going to blow those candles out, myself, thank you. Just because Facebook (who sucks) blew out my cyber candles a day early, doesn’t mean I have to play along!
I’ll sink this low: If you want to wish me a happy birthday: hit Like. If you think this was funny: hit Like. If you think Facebook sucks too: hit Like. Or, just hit Like because I’m 50 and I deserve to be humored. And for icing on the cake: stop by the TFTM Facebook page, and hit Like. Like, like, like!
My cake! MY Cake!
Final, final note: When I went upstairs to put candles on MY birthday cake… Little Man had cut a big, fat slice and had eaten it. He “forgot” it was my birthday cake. Seriously folks! There is no respect for seniors, or mothers, in this society. Hit Like if you agree.
TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND 
Geez, who pulled the early cork on that one? One way to look at it; your time at 50 will be longer than the rest of us. Happy Birthday Dawn!
LikeLike
Pingback: When Facebook Blows Your Birthday Candles Out… Early. | CookingPlanet
That does suck, big time. The other thing that could have been completely awful was no body remembering your birthday until the day after…Happy Birthday, it is definitely still the 9th here, just 🙂
LikeLike
Now that it’s officially my birthday, I’m happy to read the posts! Thanks for supporting my blog Sara! 🙂
LikeLike
Happy Birthday! 50 isn’t so bad. I felt it worse at 55…. and will be 57 this year– ick!
LikeLike
Thanks Lisa! I’m hoping it’s better book wise! I mean, my book wise… not our book wise. 😉
LikeLike
If you think 50 is bad, try 80. But, as they say, being 80 is better than he alternative.
Ruth and I would love the sing a birthday message to you on SKYPE. Could you tell us when you will be available? Dad
LikeLike
Thanks Dad! Much appreciated… and thanks for being 2 of my biggest blog supporters! xox I will be free about 11am my time, I think. I am running around a lot today, in preparation for my trip. If not then, I will be here at 4’ish for sure. (Going back to sleep now…)
LikeLike
HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU BEAUTIFUL WOMAN!!!!
It’s weird, isn’t it? You think you’re fine with it but when it actually arrives it’s anxiety producing and a little depressing. I think it takes the whole year to settle into it. I’m almost 6 months in and I still think it sucks – maybe a little less than on the actual day.
I hope you have a birthday worthy of your greatness, Dawn. I think you’re an amazing person; talented, smart, funny, sensitive and beautiful to boot!
Have the best birthday, ever!!
Much love and big hugs,
Your friend,
Lisa
xoxox
LikeLike
Well, like your message from Stephen: wish I could carry this around with me everywhere! Thanks for the kind, kind comment Lisa! I absolutely believe that your going to have an amazing 51 and on!! Perhaps it will take a few more months to adjust to some changes, but things will turn by the 3/4 phase of your 50th year, and sharply rise for the 51, 52, 53… Hugs.
LikeLike
Happy Birthday Baby!!! I granted your wish (created a login here so I could “like” your blog) but I also laughed until I spotted. Yours is the only blog I read (gift #2). Keep it up!
LikeLike
This has made my day!! Thank you friend; a real treat! Had no idea you were reading, and tickled that you are. Sweeet birthday gift! xo
LikeLike
You broke my heart as a young girl – did you know it? You befriended me at a fragile age then decided my sister was more interesting – or that was my perspective at the time. I forgot about it until I saw you again at the reunion. It made me consider how even the smallest heartache can leave an indelible mark – made me wonder how that influenced my decisions; my path. Here’s the thing…at this glorious age our trunk vines are tough and our fruit richly sweet; an impossibility without seasons of suffering. Are we going to be idle; watch it drop to the ground to rot? Does it matter how many “likes” you get on your blog (does it matter if you liked me all those years ago)? If you have to count something count the “dislikes”. They’re more interesting and when you get to 50 you can celebrate by telling all those tossers off. Don’t waste your time replying to me or wondering what I think/feel – the only thing that matters is that a writer writes or stops writing if it no longer fulfills a burning desire. I wrote this for myself mostly, although I am thankful that you broke my heart, forcing me to feel absurd thereby compelling me toward self compassion. What would you have written if I told you how I felt back then? How I thought you fickle and callous and myself a witless dullard. Write it now! Write a book and leave an indelible mark. Break my heart again if you think you can only please stop writing about watching your own fruit rot – it’s compost compared to what you are capable of. {Wiki; In philosophy, “the Absurd” refers to the conflict between the human tendency to seek inherent value and meaning in life and the human inability to find any.}
LikeLike
Wow. This is very powerful and poignant stuff E. Interesting on so many levels! Impossible not to respond, impossible not to wonder. It is part of who I am, my biggest struggle by a long shot. There is a lot that I don’t write here, because it would lay me too bare, but worrying and wondering play too big of a role, and I while I know that watching the fruit rot (beautiful metaphors) only sucks my energy, I was raised to do just that. At 50, and all through my 40s, I have been working to undo a pattern that was burned into me, like a brand. It is a struggle beyond words. You’re right, I need to stop looking at the likes, but the dislikes as well. Neither are that interesting, if truth be told, in the space I want to dwell. Attachment to outcomes has caused deep wounds that heal slowly, and I am well aware that my self-deprecating remarks are a symptom of a deeper thing, that is oh so hard to move beyond.
No, I had no idea that I broke anyone’s heart. My heart was so chronically broken that I was a toxic mess, from an early age. I say that with compassion, as I have seen more clearly in adulthood, what a mess my childhood was, and how desperately I sought any sign of normalcy. I honestly thought you tired of me, and I didn’t know why. Like you, I was sure that I was not good enough. I spent most of my childhood looking for real connections, living in a crazy world with a dead parent and absent-unable-to parent-parent. I didn’t get any of it at the time, I just knew that I never felt welcome or part of things. I learned very early to not count on relationships, or to count on people to catch me when we played the falling back game. I wasn’t playing. If I was fickle and callous, it was my own self judgement, believing I was about to hit the floor again. I have given a lot of thought to these friendships from my youth… the ones that lasted, and the ones that didn’t. It’s so interesting that we see and remember things so differently. When I think of our friendship, I can’t remember how it ended, but I have long regretted it did… LONG before seeing you at the reunion. I remember your sister with golden hair and stories of Woodstock. I though that was so cool at the time, but I remember little else about her. She was a side attraction to being with you. I remember you in so much more detail and importance. Sitting on your bed, looking out your bedroom window, telling each other important things, is such a vivid and important memory. I still think of your house on Country Way and the times I was there. I still think of you and wonder why we drifted apart. I had no idea that you saw it in such a different way. The idea that I broke your heart does matter to me. But yes, with maturity, I see it with much more compassion toward both of us. Seeing that you signed on this morning and followed the silly like instructions, meant a lot… whether it should or not. Reading this message means so much more. You have no idea. Thank you for the encouragement and honesty. Thanks for writing for yourself; it touched me deeply. (contrary to everything you advised, in your wise advise…)
LikeLike
FTR…My golden haired sister (Christine) never went to Woodstock; I used to call her a compulsive liar until I realized we all lie- its the reason(s) that matter. To this day she lives to tell a good tale and she’s even better with the ’embellishments’ (and funny! – you’d like her still).
LikeLike
Ha! Too funny… given the magic that held in my mind. The important point being, she was still just a cool side attraction to the main attraction: you. Sorry that didn’t come across. I think we were both in very fragile places then, and weren’t old enough to see it. Thanks for sharing… it has really made me think today. xo
LikeLike
Happy Birthday, and celebrate the occasion. You didn’t get this much wisdom and life experience without living these years, and it definitely beats the alternative. The best is yet to come (from someone a bit ahead of you)
LikeLike
Thanks so much Kristc99! Much appreciated and no doubt, better than the alternative! (Unless the alternative was getting do do 39 over, with the same wisdom) 😉 Thanks for checking out my post.
LikeLike
Happy Birthday from an older woman…. 🙂 I hit 50 two years ago, and it was tougher than I’d anticipated….but then I realized I still rock. As do you, missy!
LikeLike
Thanks sister! I’ll keep that in mind. Today my knee hurts, and waking up with Little Man was a true assault to my being. Otherwise, the day ahead looks splendid! Thanks for supporting my writing for so long, and for being a lovely friend.
LikeLike
Happy Birthday Dawn. I get to stay in my forties till Nov but I’ll be watching you closely to see how to make the fifties rock! 😉
LikeLike
You are tooo kind Lynn! If anyone can rock anything, it’s you! Thanks for the support and for taking the time to make me smile! 🙂
LikeLike
Happy Birthday, Dawn. You make 50 look good. Enjoy your day and your cake and thanks for the laughs. 🙂
LikeLike
You are welcome Jonesing, and thank YOU for supporting my blog, for the kind comment, and for coming back over and over. Much appreciated. Hope you are doing well. Sending continued love.
LikeLike
If I had known FB would announce my birthday, I’d never have joined… 😉
Happy Birthday!!
LikeLike
Thanks Carrie… one of the pitfalls. One.
LikeLike
Yeah, I’m getting pretty fed up with FB’s ads. Their blinking and flashing is getting annoying quickly.
LikeLike
For sure! And the ads I get are mildly disturbing. :-p
LikeLike
Welcome to the Half Century Club! Yes it still smarts, but it’s certainly better than the alternative. I too wanted to get published before turning 50 and I’m still holding my breath! However, sometimes it’s a matter of reframing your goals and desires. For example, Alan Bradley author of the wildly successful Flavia de Luce books, published his first at the age of 70. That was five years ago, and his latest “Speaking From Among the Bones” is coming out very soon. So Have a very happy birthday.
LikeLike
Thanks for the new inspiration Rita! I think something closer to 50 is needed, or I may just sit and stew until 70!! Nonetheless… this is just what I was looking for!
LikeLike
Have a wonderful day…and year, Dawn. Celebrate big! And oh yea, I’m 65 and my knee AND my hip hurt. So much to look forward to.
LikeLike
In the end, it is really only a number… right? Please say right! 😉 Thanks for all the support and kind thoughts Sally. It’s meant so much more than you know.
LikeLike
Happy, happy birthday!! I’ve always thought a birthday in early January would be such fun:) The cake with the lost slice cracked me up!!
LikeLike
Oh sure, it cracks you up when it isn’t your cake! 😉 Early January is not a bad time to have a birthday… indeed.
LikeLike