Colin writes: My partner, Emily, and I share the same birthday. This year, I turn 29, and she turns 30. Emily wants a joint celebration. I say Emily’s birthday is a much bigger deal than mine: There should be a big party for her and smaller, separate event for me. Who’s right?
Emily is trying to use you as a human shield to hide from her 30th birthday, and you know what? I applaud her. Remember, age is not just a number. It is the drumbeat of the march to your grave. (Happy birthday!) We all deserve to mark our decades passing however we like — big party, small dinner or, in my case, staring into space alone — without being bullied by the little 29-year-olds who still feel immortal. I think Emily has found the perfect celebration for herself, and I will add nothing to it other than my congratulations, and my insistence that this column be piped in icing on the cake.