I'm not one for birthdays. . .

Today, 24 years ago, I was born to two happy parents and a hopefully eager big brother and big sister.

As I've gotten older, the parties have gotten less important. While spending time with the people I care about has become my primary birthday wish. Last year's birthday celebration consisted of dinner at Golden Corral and bowling with my friends and siblings. But I couldn't even recall that until I searched for pictures. By the end of this year, I won't remember today's celebration either. But that doesn't mean it's not important to me. I just like low-key, close-knit friends, food, and laughter. That's all I ask for.

And I decided I'm terribly unkeen on surprises.

I can think of two times in my life that I was genuinely surprised. One was the morning of my 16th birthday when I opened my present from my dad. It was a matching sterling silver necklace and bracelet and I cried. a lot.

The only other time I can currently think of being genuinely surprised was for another landmark birthday (21) -- I flew to New Hampshire. My mom and I had lunch with Jon-Michael and Angela at Cracker Barrel. Jon-Michael gave me a card and told me to promise him I wouldn't open it until I got to the airport. Sitting on my duffel bag in line at my gate, I pulled his card out of the envelope, opened it, and started crying. a lot.

I don't like the idea of planning a celebration for my own birthday -- that's why I like getting together and doing something equally enjoyable for everyone (which means I don't need to open presents), coincidently, on or near my birthday.

And I don't secretly long for the day that someone throws me a surprise party. If it were to happen, I'd be overjoyed. But I wouldn't want it to be one of those awkward situations where people gradually leak niblets of information that eventually lead to me knowing in advance that when I arrive at my home, mysteriously, every single light in the house will be off -- even the nightlight. And when I walk through the door, there will be people in party hats hiding behind my couch -- all the points on all their hats, sticking up as incospicuously as possible.

I have the innate ability to dream big. This is a great and valuable trait. However, there are times that I get wind of the possibilities, and that trait I possess takes off like a whipped mule and before I know it, I've got expectations higher than Everest. I'm working on this, but it's difficult to reign in a quality that under most circumstances is fuel for a particular passion, like photography.