I’m generally good with dates. I know when people’s birthdays are and I know when things happened (yes, Kennedy was shot November 22, 1963, my grandpa was born November 22, 1908, I got my driver’s license August 24, 2004 and the last cousin reunion I attended was May 29, 2011 (me and my aunt, who is also good with dates, once had a discussion about which date it was. I was right)). This particular skill frightens people sometimes, especially when I can tell the birthdays of people I’ve barely met (come on, Diana’s older brother told his friend what date his sister was born while I was standing next to them in the ticket line to the movie theatre and I just happened to remember it) but usually it’s a really good skill.
That is, till you want to trick me. Or you just want to change things. If you want to celebrate your birthday three months later that’s okay, but don’t make me pretend like I don’t know when it actually is, oh no, you will get your gift on the actual day or close by and then maybe a card when you choose to celebrate. Also, you can’t trick me into believing that a party is for a birthday when it really isn’t since I know your birthday is eight months away.
Of course I think that people can celebrate their birthdays whenever they want, I’m just going to be a bit confused when you tell me you’re having a birthday party in May when we both know your birthday is really January 14.
The bad part about being good with dates is not when things happen after they are supposed to, but when they happen before, as was the case this past spring. An old friend of mine had a big birthday coming up, I knew about it because I know her and I’ve known her and her birthday for more than twenty years. I was prepared and somewhat planned, I knew I had five weeks left before the actual date because I knew that date for sure.
That’s when it happened. My friend had a late decision about an early celebration and instead of five weeks to knit something I all of a sudden only had two weeks and a pressing deadline in front of me. (One would have thought that given all the children’s birthday parties I attended at this friend’s house as a kid, I should have remembered that since her birthday was after the semester had ended, she usually had her birthday party in late May and so this shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did. After all, I’m good at remembering dates, not logical plans from two decades ago.)
In the end it all turned out well. I rushed to the Internet to choose a pattern and to order some yarn, it arrived quickly enough, I put every other knitting project on hold and when the party day arrived, I could present my friend with a brand new hand knit shawl (granted that I had to buy the gift bag and wrapping on the way to the party and do the wrapping in the store, but that’s not the important part, it was done before the party, that’s the important part).
I think she liked it very much.