Small Quirks About Traveling and Birthdays - Salt Lake City, UT

Spending these past few weeks in the western states, there are several things I have learned that I have never thought to consider:

Firstly, my current location is at a high altitude and quite dry. I'm sure mountain climbers are well familiar with these challenges, but as a green traveler, by the end of the first day here, I was completely worn just from regular breathing and remaining upright. By the time I was in bed, I thought I was miserable, trying to intake oxygen but unable to escape the parched and enveloping air. As it turns out, this was dramatic as I became accustomed to the climate and resumed normal breathing by week two. (And now, why is home so humid?) I've never contemplated that locations could differ not only visually and spatially but also in the way that it physically affects you, even while indoors.

Secondly, time change. I understand the concept of time change, so the issue is getting the direction of change correct. Especially since I'm not on vacation and the time of day actually matters, it is deceptively unintuitive to keep track of whether to add two hours, subtract two hours, or do nothing because the clock is correct. More important yet, should I eat lunch during the lunchtime of the current or former timezone?

Lastly, I realized this week that this is the first year I will be away for work on my birthday. I was reminded of this by the lovely cake pops that were placed on my hotel bed at check-in.

In a way, it feels like a rite of passage as I join the ranks of business travelers who either impressively or unfortunately spend more nights in a hotel than at home each year. That's a subject for another day.

The thing is, I like to perceive myself as a highly practical person. In that sense, a day is a day is a day. For example, I don’t care whether I have celebratory dinner with my family on my actual birthday or if it's two weeks past.

I remember once in an Econ class in college. I’m sure I should have been paying attention, but was momentarily distracted by my inability to recall my own age. I think this occurred in March, or some month that was significantly past my birthday, and I spent a good several minutes trying to calculate from my birth year whether I was 19 or 20. I definitely settled on 19, which was totally incorrect, and I attribute at least part of this forgetfulness to the failure to celebrate age changes properly. The years all start to blend together.

I say all of this half offhandedly, but of course, thanks in large part to the wonderful people around me, I’ve always managed to feel very loved year upon year. I don’t overhype the date of my birth, but I feel very fortunate when people celebrate a day that’s special specifically to me (and my same-birthday cohorts). 

People have been known to ask me cryptically but insistently what kind of cake I like, and I just assume that they’re interested in learning about my preferences. A week later, the exact type of cake shows up, and surprise – my housemates are celebrating my birthday. (2015)

A good friend comes to my house after I’ve had a day full of in-person birthday wishes from all my favorite people - it's the first time that college is in session on my birthday. My friend brings me a tall bottle of chai latte, because she’s younger than me and couldn’t buy alcohol yet as I was turning 21. I obviously love chai lattes. A long letter is attached, which I read and kept on the mantel above my bed until I moved from that apartment a year and a half later. (2014)

I’m not sure what will happen this year, but you know, it’s a long weekend, I’ve accumulated another year of life experiences, and in a way, I'm easily pleased: I need to celebrate only a small amount to be richly reminded that I'm thankful for the people who care about me and also to remember that I have to up my age counter by one once again.