surprise! (m)

As a kid, I would crawl under the Christmas tree, find my gifts, and unwrap them when no one was around.  After I saw what they were, I would re-wrap them, matching the creases exactly.  That, in fact, is how I learned to wrap a gift.

Why did I do this?  Some people would say I lacked impulse control.  Others might say it was simple excitement. The real reason was that I wanted to manage expectations for Christmas day, having been disappointed so many times.  For example, the year I wished for tap dancing shoes, I saw what looked like a shoebox under the tree.  It was a pair of slippers.  So close, yet so far.

And so, at a very young age, I learned to loathe surprises.

Yesterday, I met my friend Mary for lunch.  My birthday is March 14th.  Hers is exactly one week later on the 21st.  We always celebrate our birthdays over lunch--twice in one month.  This year, however, neither one of us is in town for the actual dates.  Mary set up an appointment for March 8th to celebrate my birthday.

A week ago, I called her to cancel.  "I don't feel festive," I said.  "Tough," she responded.

I called again a few days ago.  "I'm really trying to be strict about this diet," I said.  "We're going.  You can order fish.  I checked the menu," she said.

Two days ago.  "Look.  This restaurant is really expensive for what we are not going to eat.  It's a waste of money.  Let's do this some other time," I said.

She exploded.  "WHY DO YOU HAVE TO CONTROL THIS?  WE ARE GOING!  PERIOD!  I WANT TO TAKE YOU TO LUNCH AND YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY!"

"Fine, you crazy b-tch," I said.

I meet her at noon at Ming Tsai's restauarant, The Blue Ginger.  She's on time (for once).  The restaurant is nowhere near full.  The host walks us to the back room.  "Are you putting us out of sight with the ugly people?" I ask.

"Yes, at this table," he says, gesturing grandly to a group of good-looking women.  I look at the seven women.  It is a beautiful sight, indeed.  Most of my closest friends and loved ones!

Surprise!

We had a lost afternoon, laughing, eating and catching up.  I had a salad and a piece of fish...perfect until the cake arrived.  Susan bought it at Icing on the Cake and it was fabulous (of course I had some...it's bad luck not to eat your own birthday cake).  The cake was inscribed with "Happy Birthday, M!"  And then I looked down along the side and there was more writing...."Aged to Perfection."

As I looked around the table at these wonderful friends who came into my life at different times and for different reasons, I realized that I am the luckiest person in the world.  These women are perfect.  All of them.

I turned to apologize to Mary for giving her such a hard time about the lunch.  To add insult to injury, the poor thing was prepping for a colonscopy and could only have broth and water.

She looked at me and said, "You owe me."

I'll make sure her lunch is spectacular.