Revelation: my birthday is January 16th. I am, needless to say, a
winter baby. What's wrong with that? Well, up until a few years ago, the answer
would have been - absolutely nothing. There were, in fact, many perks to my
snowy season birthday: coming just after Christmas, it was the perfect occasion
to ask for any presents that Santa might have missed off his list; when I was
younger, birthday party ideas were easily catered - the cinema or ice skating.
Okay, I am aware that I said 'many perks' - however, that
is pretty much where they end. Here we go, then - a cheerful list of reasons
why it pretty much sucks having a mid-January birthday.
·
The weather. I live in England - the North East
of England, to be exact. This means that the weather conditions on my birthday
will be one of three possibilities: lashings of rain, piles of snow, or deluges
of sleety rain and snow. Not so much of a problem when you're younger - as
previously mentioned, weather conditions are matterless when you're nestled
away in a cinema screen - but, once you hit eighteen and celebrations mean a
night on the town, you're pretty stuck. Nobody wants to go out half dressed
(because, winter or summer, that is what we do in Newcastle) to stumble down a
slushy bank and/or risk your life slipping in high heels on the icy ground.
·
The presents. Not a personal reason of mine to
grumble - in almost twenty years (sobs dramatically at the thought) I am yet to
receive a present for which I am not grateful - however, I have heard many
fellow January babies complain that their birthday present pile is a what's
what of rejected/unwanted/unloved Christmas presents. Ho hum.
And
finally, the big one...
·
EXAMS. Yes. Not a problem during SATs, not a
problem during GCSEs or even the first year of sixth form, then...BOOM! A
Levels hit and it's all downhill from there. On my eighteenth birthday, I had a
90 minute History exam. My nineteenth, for all sorts of reasons, was a bit of a
breather. But now we get to the real bone of contention - and, in fact, the inspiration
behind this blog post - my twentieth. I have just received confirmation that my
January exam timetable consists of one take home, forty eight hour exam. When
does this exam begin? 4pm on January 15th. When does Beth turn twenty? January
16th. When does Beth's exam end? Not until January 17th. Is Beth happy? No she
certainly is not! To use one of the biggest teenage sayings going (ironic,
given that - in case I hadn't already mentioned it - I will soon be twenty) this is so unfair!
Instead
of downing the tequila, my twentieth will be spent frantically scribbling about
James Joyce's Dubliners or Powell and
Pressburger's Black Narcissus. As far
as excuses for January blues goes, I think mine is a pretty good one. God only
knows what's in store for my twenty first. On that optimistic note, over and
out!
We'll be downing the tequila (and perhaps drowning our sorrows) on January 17th, kid. Don't you fret. You can have the 18th too. A 48 hour birthday. Why the hell not?
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