Another year older. Another year wiser?

I believe that the older you get the less exciting birthdays become. Without party games and party bags (and more importantly, someone else organising and arranging the actual party), I just don’t see the point. They serve as a reminder that I am getting old far too quickly - and thoughts like that alone make me sound like my grandmother.

But, a birthday when you have just moved to a new country was going to be even worse – I know I sound super gloomy – but I must admit that any excitement for my birthday was quelled by the knowledge that the whole day would act as a reminder of what I’d left behind.

Some things in my life never change – one of these is being awoken by my sprightly grandma extremely early in the morning singing happy birthday to me. Despite the hour however it was comforting, the familiar sounds of home. My family had been surprisingly organised and I had been given a bag of cards and presents to take out to Amsterdam with me – none to be opened before the day of course.

During the day I got a lot of hasty phone calls from England, wishing me well, telling me that they were thinking of me. I was thinking of them. I am not sad in Amsterdam, I enjoy my life out here and I am glad I came, but for the first time it all seemed a bit hard. Moving countries for a job like this is not the same as moving countries as a student or with a group of people all thrown into the same experience – in those environments there’s the intensity to make good friends quickly. However I was trying to infiltrate the lives of people who already had lives; they already had jobs and friends and a routine and so yes, it was harder.

However, I have to say that when you are in that frame of mind, that “I won’t enjoy myself today, I just know I won’t” frame of mind, then it’s pretty much a self-fulfilling prophecy. So, I tried to be positive and you know what – I actually had a really nice day.

People at work were lovely and considerate, giving me plenty of birthday cups of coffee. They have a nice tradition of celebrating birthdays with cake and presents, which will occur next week. After work I received my present from the city. As I was walking to meet a friend I came across a crowdeed canal; people were sitting on the banks, on the bridge and out of their windows. As I got closer I could hear what a glorious present Amsterdam was giving me. A gorgeous choir was singing on a boat – it was a gentle, precious moment which I was so happy to stumble upon. It reminded me that the city is a wonderful one, one that I should be thankful for every day.

Afterwards I met some friends and we went for some drinks because you can’t celebrate a birthday without gin. Again I was reminded how lucky I should I feel. My friend kept pestering me to go to the toilet with her (which I didn’t really understand because she is 26); however, in the end I accompanied her. The table on our return was covered with balloons and a cake – I was so touched. Perhaps it was the amount of gin I’d consumed but I was slightly overwhelmed by how lovely everyone had been, considering I had known them for such a short amount of time.

Me and some of the cake…

After much gin and cake I stumbled home, only to find on the steps of my apartment a massive bouquet of flowers from my sister. Again I felt overwhelmed. I have two sisters; one lives in New Zealand and the other was in America for my birthday but both remembered me and so it seems that wherever you are in the world the people you love are never so far - they’ll never forget you on your birthday at least.  I think that with this whole aging lark, in new found maturity, that; at least, I can embrace.

Overall, a pretty good birthday!

Florence