Although I'm ashamed to admit it, my birthday is important to me. Luckily, I have been blessed to be surronded by wonderful people (and my brother Fred) who make a big deal out of it every year. And unfortunately, this year I had to spend the day away from my loved ones (and my brother Fred). Not only that, but I was stuck sick in bed...watching a Hillary Duff movie.
Usually when I'm ill, I just immediately assume that my illness is some form of cancer. A headache is a brain tumor, a sore throat is throat cancer and a painful feeling in my toe is an extremely rare form of the disease that doctors haven't even diagnosed, let alone developed treatment for. (This paranoia isn't entirely unfounded. I have a family history of cancer and I have worked a great deal with carcinogens like ethidium bromide and formaldehyde...ironically, it was often in an oncology laboratory). But in India, there is no need to be overly concerned about cancer. There are so many other goodies to worry about: Cholera, Malaria, Typhoid, Dengue, intestinal worms, and so on. Couple my symptoms (pain way beyond Delhi Belly, because I've been there, done that, and this is worse) with that the fact that I've probably been exposed to contaminated water (don't ask) and this whole thing just looks bad. But am I going to see a doctor? No! I don't know if I trust doctors here. What if they still believe in using leaches? Just kidding, of course. But I don't have any health insurance right now so I need to get back to Canada where I have my free health care to seek treatment. It's okay, it'll only be another week and a half. And in any case, being ill on my birthday gave me an excuse to lay in bed and watch Hillary Duff movies, which indirectly led me to take stock of my life.
For those of you who don't know who Hillary Duff is (where have you been?!) she is the teen princess of acting and singing with a squeeky voice to match her squeeky clean character. I don't find her even nearly as interesting as other teenage celebritries like Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen, who are frigging financial geniuses or Lindsay Lohan who seems to descend further into moral decripitude every day. But she is an apt catalyst for my self-analysis because she is younger than me by about 5 years and far more successful than I'll probably ever be. Not to imply, of course, that I want to become a celebrity. I don't. At all. I absolutely hate being the centre of attention. And I know from my friend Sophie that fame, and all the things behind it, takes serious guts, guts that I don't have (especially if I have that intestinal worm). The money would be nice, but that's about it.
Seeing Hillary Duff on television made me think about my life and my goals. And I've concluded that although I am not as famous as her and will never achieve anything that even compares to her success, I will hopefully succeed in my own way because I am on the right path. Sure, there are lots of things in my character that I would like to change, some small and some very big. But in general, I think that I'll be okay. And although I turned 22 on April 7th, I can't feel badly about being old because there are so many other things that I'd like to accomplish that there's no time to wallow in self-pity. There are other countries to visit! Other university degrees to attain (and pay for)! And plenty of other diseases to catch! When I come back to Canada, after I see that doctor, I am going to celebrate my birthday properly. I'll be able to be with my loved ones (and my brother Fred), eating matzah and possibly watching a movie. I wouldn't suggest a Hillary Duff one, though.
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