Bonne Fete

On Sunday, I was invited to a birthday brunch. It wasn't actually for myself as most people don't know about it. My friend did a birthday dinner for a mutual friend back in November. Now, it was the latter's husband who was the recipient of a celebration.

Like last time, the generous appetizer spread of figs, charcuterie, cheese, and other small eats was enough. But there were also entrees of siu mai, chicken and potatoes, beans, and a beef bread lasagna. After a brief break, we had desserts of fresh longan, a fruit mix of pineapple, kiwis, and lychee, and a home-made Biscoff cheesecake.

Throughout the meal, the teenagers from both households were asked about their braces, schooling (math, science, art, drama), and after-school activities (speed skating, hockey, rugby, and so on). It was both timeless (this happened back in the day) but also modern (social media and smartphones). I had little to contribute because I had no progeny myself and as for my own childhood, I grew up poor and didn't experience any of those things. Even my high school offered nothing but the basics.

The family vacation tales were also a bit foreign to me. Cruise ships didn't sound appealing and neither did shopping in Japan. But there were some interesting stories: a French canal cruise on a small river barge and a 100 km excursion (up to Tombstone Provincial Park) on the majestic 740 km Dempster highway in the Yukon. I could see myself doing both, but while booking a slow cruise along an idyllic countryside is straightforward, the logistics of an Arctic car trip would be hard for non-driver like me to solve.

During my 2-hour commute home (public transit on Sunday in Ottawa is not for the weak), I thought about my own birthday celebrations. I prefer spending it alone and in fact, there has been only 1 communal one for myself. As a child, my family didn't have the money for them. As an adult, there were two on the same day during my last year in University. The lunch outing was among a small group of friends from my program and dinner was with a closer group that included my crush.

Both were rather awkward. At the Mexican cantina, I didn't know my lunch buddies very well except that we went to the same classes and worked together on group projects. The evening meal at a "gastro-pub" was fine but it wasn't the romantic dinner between 2 lovers of my fantasy. So obviously the actual reality could only be bittersweet and disappointing. Since then, I've rather been relieved that only my mom sends me a congratulatory email on my birthday. Thanks but no candles or bonhomie for me.