Welcome to Carrie Gravenson's website. It will make you laugh. It will make you cry. It will make you laugh again. You seem emotionally unstable.

Happy new year! For me.

I had a birthday on July 27th.  I had my usual existential crisis of being psyched to have a birthday but unpsyched to be aging yet again.  Can't have both, it seems.

My mother took me to a fancy-ass lunch at the exclusive members only dining room at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  Those who know me well know that I pretty much live at The Met.  It is my favorite place in the world.  And yet, I refuse to shell out the $60 it would take to be a member to eat in the fancy-ass special dining room.  That's why I keep my fancy-ass mother around.  She's good like that.

On my way home from lunch with my mother, my father called.  I'm omitting the boring details but here was pretty much the conversation:

Me: Hi, Dad!
Dad: Hi, Care!  How are you?
Me: Good.
Dad: Just wanted to let you know that [family news].
Me: Okay, have a safe flight.
Dad: And something else... oh, I wanted to let you know that [family health news].
Me: Okay, good to know.  Keep me posted.
Dad: Something else... something else...
Me: ... [keeps from laughing]
Dad: Well, I guess that's it.
Me: Okay, bye.
Dad: Bye.

Did you see that?  He totally forgot to wish me a happy birthday!  How cool is that?!  I don't think my father has ever seen the classic Molly Ringwald movie Sixteen Candles wherein the main character's entire family forgets her sixteenth birthday but I was thrilled to be a part of this inadvertent tribute.

The best part about my conversation with Dad is that I could tell he knew he forgot something -- he just couldn't remember what.  He had a lot he wanted to tell me and got sidetracked and just forgot the main purpose of the call.  And I was no help.  It was too glorious and funny.  Later, I went out to allow my friends to get me completely drunk and feed me cupcakes (see photo) -- as that's what "adults" do for birthdays.  I was happily recounting the story of Dad forgetting when he called to officially wish me a happy birthday.  So all was set right again.

And now I'm slightly hungover and year older and there are 364 days until the madness begins again.  My birthday goal is to write more because, y'know, I'm a special sacred gift to the world and this is one way for me to share my awesomeness.

Birthday love: The final tally.

The starting-on-time thing.