TMI Tuesday… Another year older…
You’re the random winner of the brand-a-thon sweepstakes. Snail-mail me, and I’ll hook you up with some books. Thank you so much to everyone who brainstormed such fabulous ideas. I’m going to think them all over a bit, but you’ll know when I pick one for sure.
It’s birthday time! The Romance Vagabonds are celebrating their one-year birthday all this week, and FanLit Forever is coming up on theirs. They have a huge birthday celebration planned, from Oct. 29th to November… 7th, I believe? The party keeps getting longer, because they keep getting more fabulous guest bloggers! Who, you ask? Oh, just some amazing authors like Eloisa James. Toni Blake, Anna Campbell, Jenna Peterson, Michelle Willingham, Victoria Alexander, Harris Channing, Ericka Scott, Larissa Ione, and Sherry Thomas. I get to wrap up the whole to-do on the 7th – I’m so honored.
Anyhow, happy birthday to both groups! My own birthday is fast approaching, too. So today I got to thinking about age.
Here in the US, we get prickly about admitting to our real age. When I lived overseas for a bit, I experienced a culture where “How old are you?” was one of the first questions inquisitive strangers would just up and ask me. Along with “Are you married?”, “How many siblings do you have?”, and “What is your religion?” And then they might compliment me by saying, “I think you’re getting fat.”
At first, I was shocked to be asked such “personal” questions by complete strangers, but once I got used to it, I started to wonder why we get so hung up about these things, anyhow. Why shouldn’t everyone know I’m turning 32?
When people ask you how old you are, do you tell them honestly? Lie? Deflect the question and change the topic to, say, geometry?
Do you look forward to birthdays, or dread them?
What’s the best birthday present you ever gave yourself?