I wasn't really expecting all that much for my birthday this year. After all, I am not turning a paticularly eventful age and I happen to have a birthday at the most boring time of year possible.

As if it were a gift from God, there were NO customers at work. Not one. This left me to revel in my birthday girl status quite liberally. This morning, my sisters brought me coffee and work and decorated my desk. This included streamers, confetti, party crowns, flowers and a adorable mini cake that I almost set on fire with all my candles. I was called and sung happy birthday to by friends, family, a father in Nova Scotia, ex-boyfriends and current crushes. I was given a Siamese fighting fish, adorable underwear, a diamond ring, a candle I have been coveting for a year, an iPod mini, tickets to a Switchfoot concert, two books, a calender and money. I was sung to various times and given many birthday wishes. I recieved cards from my grandparents, step-grandmother and other relatives. I was amazed at the outpouring of love from people I didn't even know liked me.

The only thing that was missing? A happy birthday wish from my mother. The woman who allowed all this to happen. The woman who chose to give birth to me instead of aborting me like the doctors advised. The person who struggled through hours of home labor to bring me into this world. The person who gave me a birthday.She doesn't believe in birthday's anymore.