Happy Hobbit Day

   I have celebrated this glorious day all according to tradition by dressing up hobbit-y and preparing plenty of food. Admittedly, it was mostly lunch prep for work but it still counts.
   As a way of luring myself out of the flat I also went for a coffee with a new friend at my local nerdy café. It'll have to do for celebration, and truly, I don't think Bilbo nor Frodo would mind having their birthday celebrated that way.

   I myself have also reached a whole new age level, and am now... mostly overwhelmed to be honest. In the last year I've become romantically close to a select few people that has come to mean very much to me. Together with my best friend they decided that this was the year that I'd be spoiled rotten as a way of making up for the covid years of no celebration at all. I was wined and dined by friends the night before my birthday and as for my birthday I went from a dreamy breakfast in bed worthy of a hobbit with one partner (and my metamour) to a movie night drowning in cuddles and cheesy pizza with another person I'm dating.

   It feels a bit bizarre to be a reasonably functional adult reduced to some childish goo by the simple act of receiving thoughtful gifts. I've never been very good with compliments or being in the centre of attention because I keep asking myself about other people's hidden agenda, so birthdays are a strange lil' challenge for me. Don't get me wrong, I love being celebrated and noticing people making an honest effort on my account, but I'm still incredibly uncomfortable with it. I get awkward and act like I'm an embarrassed five-year-old.

   However, now as I wear the clothes, or read the books, eat the chocolate, or watch the movies I was gifted I won't be able to deny that there are people out there who likes me. People who made an effort for me. And that sure is a fantastic feeling.