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Goodbye Dirty Thirties…

I turned 40 last week. And I turned 40 to a rather large fanfare – in my own head.

I had debated for a good while whether or not I was going to bother acknowledging it, or run away and hide, but as it approached and I remembered that I am no longer young, free and supple, I decided to embrace it, enjoy it and celebrate it. So I had a party.

What a palaver.

Let me start out by saying that it was a wonderful evening – I had a great time, lots of brilliant friends and family came to celebrate with me, and I felt loved, drunk and happy. This is not about the party or the result of the party – this is about the fact that finally, at 40, I have realised that although I have lots of amazing friends who are there for me, I also have “friends” who are just going to let me down.

I set up a Facebook event around 7 months before the party and contacted people to “save the date” advising that invitations would go out nearer the time. I confirmed addresses and duly created, printed and posted proper invitations to people. Around 80 people got back to me. Around 60 people did not respond.

I waited a short while, and then contacted them all again – text/email/facebook – you know where it tells you if people read it or not. From this “chasing up” I got about 30 replies, eventually. All of whom declined, the week before the party.

Now let me just confirm – these are not acquaintances or people I don’t know very well – these people are my friends.

The “declines” fell broadly into 3 categories:

1) The Ignorers

They literally did not reply to me. I haven’t heard from any of them since

2) The Elaborate Excusers

“I would like to come, but I have a friend whose wife left him 2 weeks ago, and I need to be around for him in case he needs me” – So you are not going to make any plans or go out to work or have your own life in any way “just in case?” I am your friend too.

“I won’t know what I’m working until the date of your party” I just don’t believe this. If coming to my party was in any way important to you, you would find a way to find out. Also you are a f*cking postman and have had that job for 20 years.

“I think I’m going on holiday, but I don’t know what date I’m flying yet” Well – lets hope you find out before the plane takes off

“I had pneumonia last week, and still don’t think I’ll feel very well” Sorry to hear that. I see, however, that you’ve been at work and are going to a gig on Saturday. Still – if you can see into the future, then you know best

“My mum is on holiday, so I can’t get a lift” No other cars/trains/buses/taxis in the world?

3) The Maybes

“I am definitely going to be there if I can, but I’m going to be in Leicester and my car has been playing up, and it might not get me back in time” You’re not coming, are you?

“I am out earlier on in the evening, and I don’t know what time the other event finishes” You’re not coming, are you?

“It all depends on whether or not my hours at work are going to change” You’re not coming, are you?

(None of them came)

But there are two worse types of party-denyers:

a) the ones who said they were coming, and then just didn’t turn up. And didn’t say “Happy Birthday”, didn’t send a card, and haven’t asked me if I had a good day.

b) the liars.

Yes, I have friends who think absolutely nothing of lying to me, and then failing to cover their backs by not keeping up the lie on their social networking sites

“I am going on holiday and fly on the day of your birthday party” – negated by the photo of her at a concert in a nearby city the night after the party, and a photo of her and her husband 2 days after having lunch in a nearby stately home

“I am having an emergency operation that has now been scheduled in for that day” – negated by the twitter feed which was updated hourly throughout the day discussing the rubbish day at work she had, and then tweeting photos of herself in a pub at night

“I am already at another party that night” – negated by the Facebook status: “Friday nights are so boring – TV and wine for me”

“I’m at a gig, sorry” negated by the fact that the gig mentioned was actually the following week.

I know that not everyone wants to come to a party. I realise now that not everyone likes me as much as I thought they did, but I cannot understand why these elaborate and strange excuses happen. If you don’t want to come – don’t come! It’s simple. You don’t even have to give me a reason if you don’t want to. “No, sorry” does actually work.

I think I’ve worked it out, though – because I had a lot of “maybes” and none of them came. I knew they wouldn’t. But it was obvious to me that they didn’t want to lose friendship points by giving me an outright “no”, so thought they would come up with a really good and valid reason not to come, but at the same time pledging to try their hardest to overcome the adversity, and therefore stll ensure their friendship status. All the time having zero intention of attending.

Because, frankly, if you don’t know what you’re working until the day in question, you need to sort that out with your HR. If you don’t think your car will make it back, then you need to fix that. Or spend the intervening fortnight thinking of another way to move from one place to another. If you are keeping an evening free on the offchance a friend might want you, remember that you have other friends who definitely do want you. If you’re going to fake an operation, remember that I follow you on Twitter. Which is timestamped.

Beause the fact is, these are all excuses and not reasons. And if it was important to you to be there, then you would have found a way. If your daughter was getting married, would you have just accepted that your work timetable hadn’t been published? No. You’d have found a way. Now, look –  I’m not saying my 40th birthday party is as important as being the Father of the Bride; I am highlighting the fact that if you’d have wanted to be there, then you would have been.

You all just made choices, and your choice wasn’t me.

So I am just going to accept that there are people in my life who are not there for me, who aren’t interested in me and who don’t want to spend time with me when it’s important to me. And that’s OK.

Because there are people in my life who wouldn’t have missed it for the world. People who drove around for 2 hours because they were lost, and nearly ran out of petrol, but who didn’t give up and still got there, because they cared. People who went into pubs to ask for directions in full 1970s costume and wigs, because they cared. People who went to the trouble of buying me thoughtful and personal gifts, because they cared. People who got up and danced with me on my birthday, despite not loving the music, because they cared. People who are my friends.

So, now I’ve got that off my chest, I’m focusing on those people. On the ones who are on my photos, who I can look back and laugh with. On the ones who bought me a drink and called me an old fart. On the ones who threw up out of the car window, and the ones who took all the rubbish home in their car so we would get our deposit back. Because they are my friends.

And the rest of you? Life is too short, and now I’m (hopefully) about half-way through, I’m going to spend it with people who plough through excuses and actually make it.

Happy birthday, Bectora. Happy streamlining.

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