I always pause for a second when asked my favorite holiday. I know the answer immediately, but it often gets an slightly odd reaction, seeing as how there is no place for it on typical calendars.
My favorite holiday is other people’s birthdays. Nope, not my own—other people’s. I’m too indecisive to enjoy my birthday as much. I’m far too indecisive for celebrating a day dedicated to me. Plus, I’ve never liked getting older. But I get excited simply anticipating celebrating another person’s special day. I’d much prefer a birthday party to Christmas presents or a Thanksgiving turkey.
My preference for birthday parties leads me to an odd—no longer very hidden—talent. I am really good at remembering people’s birthdays, even if I’ve only met you once. People sometimes come up to me to test my talent after we discuss it, and I nearly always know the date (or at least the month). Of course, this also depends on the number of drinks I’ve had when the date is divulged.
I can barely remember a single statistic about science, probably because my head is bursting with birthdays. Ah, well. I’ll take cake over chemistry any day.